A Portrait of a Reader With a Bowl of Cereal

My Day in Facebook Status Updates

2009-10-01T23:38:00.002-06:00

Emily is awake.

Emily is massaging.

Emily has turned into a salesman, in order to drive more business into her spa.

Emily came home to cat puke on the floor.

Emily spent a lot of time searching fro 'Lea Michele' on youtube.

Emily made chicken caesar salad.

Emily just discovered her cat had jumped onto the stove, taken a piece of chicken, and was hungrily trying to devour it before she caught him.

Emily laughed at SNL's weekend Update Thursday, the only thing SNL has going for it at the moment.

Emily laughed at The Office.

Emily laughed at Community on NBC.

Emily did not so much laugh at Parks and Recreation. Come on Amy Poehler.

Emily convinced her sister-in-law to go see a midnight showing of 'Whip it".

Emily and her sister-in-law went to the wrong theatre, and then went to the one those people directed her to.

Emily and her sister-in-law found out that in fact, nobody was really showing a midnight showing of "Whip it" because they had canceled it earlier in the day, but forgot to take it off of the internet.

Emily never got to eat her gummi bears she had bought specifically for the movie, and now they are chillin' in the fridge.

Emily is now up late with not much to do.

Two things:

2009-09-22T23:26:00.004-06:00

Seriously - How cute is Kristin Chenoweth? And how good is Pushing Daisies? I was so excited she won!

and #2 - Vanessa Williams, when you shake your head and mouth the word 'no' I don't respect you because you were too cool to do a stunt with glasses, I actually like you a lot less because you think you are too cool.

Hair Apparent

2009-09-14T22:37:00.002-06:00

I have received more comments on my hair in the past two weeks than I have in the past ten years. My hair has always been a little wild, but I'm okay with that. I like having red messy short hair. It's like a really good accessory - even if my outfit looks a little strange or I have a huge zit on my chin, my hair can make me look just a bit cooler. And I am grateful for that. And I really don't mind when people notice it, or say something about it, because, hey, if i didn't want people to notice me, I shouldn't have my crazy hair. I get it.

But sometimes, people go a little overboard.

A couple days ago, one of Ben's students compliments him on the fact that he married someone with 'cool hair'. I'm in with the high school crowd I guess. And somehow my choice of hairstyles reflects on my husband's superb taste. And not one, but a couple of students have let him know that.

Last week I went to the little coffee stand in the grocery store to get a drink and the lady who sells me my Izze says 'I see you all the time, and I love your hair.' I said ' Where do you see me all the time?' (because I felt bad because I thought this was someone I should know who i don't) and she said 'Like, around the store all the time. When you're here.' Apparently she has been watching me when I come in? Ok. A little strange.

Last week I also went into the gas station to buy a drink and the guy behind the counter compliments me on my 'lion hair' and then goes 'Rawr' with his little lion hand motion. He really honestly did this motion with his hands like he was pawing at me. I literally took a half step back because I thought he might reach out and touch my hair. I smiled, thanked him, and then walked back to my car.

Lion Hair?

KC authorities' efforts to rescue children from prostitution gain national attention - Kansas City Star

2009-08-10T12:42:00.001-06:00

KC authorities' efforts to rescue children from prostitution gain national attention - Kansas City Star

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It's a kick in the shorts, to say the least

2009-08-05T22:15:00.002-06:00

Today at Target, I bought some office supplies for a presentation I am giving tomorrow for work. It's kind of a big deal, and I was already stressed out and not in so great a mood.

So imagine my surprise when the lady checking me out says 'Oh, I see you are here buying some school supplies for yourself?'

What I said - 'No, it's actually for a big presentation at my job tomorrow.'

What I wanted to say 'For the love of Pete, lady, how old do you think I am?'

See? I told you that being a grown up was hard! I don't need these kind of setbacks!

floating in the pool gets all philosophical

2009-07-26T22:05:00.003-06:00

The past week I have been privileged to be invited to go float in a pool. Said pool in the backyard that belongs to a family that a friend of mine is house-sitting. We have been taking full advantage of the pool and the weather and floating, swimming, and reading poolside this past week when we weren't otherwise engaged. I mean, come on people, I would've been there every day if I could've, but I had to get some stuff done.

Some of the 'stuff' I had to get done was searching for jobs. My summer tryst with a certain job is coming to a close, and I am about to be part of the very active group of people looking for jobs once again. Most of the jobs I have been looking for have been massage related, seeing as how I have completed school and all, but this whole job quest has got me thinking about being a grown-up.

Thus the following thoughts were going through my head while floating sublimely underneath a blue sky today:

What exactly are 'grown-up pants' and where does one purchase a pair? I feel like even though I graduated from college several years ago, graduated from another college recently, have been married for over six years, own my own home, etc., I have still yet to become a grown up. So when does that happen? 30? 40? 75? or is it attached to some non-linear event like marriage, kids, career, etc? (That's two 'etc.' in one paragraph, by the way.)

There are all these things that when I really think about it should automatically make me a grown up. I pay all my own bills. I have to file my own taxes every year. I have to clean the bathroom every week because nobody else will. I take care of two cats. I have to water the flowers outside and worry about whether the hydrangeas will get too much sun this summer. We are rebuilding an entire room this summer in our house(and by 'we' I mean my husband) and I don't have a curfew. So technically, I should be a grown up, right??

There are things coming up in my life that I have to be a grown up for. I have to be assertive and authoritative and I'm not sure how to be those when deep down inside I still think I'm in high school sometimes.

So how do I make myself grow up?

Or do I, as a dear friend puts it, 'Fake it until i make it?'

The Uncontrolled Downfalls of Movie-Going : Part One

2009-07-15T22:41:00.003-06:00

Movie theatres just smell funny. They smell like a mixture of all sorts of really good things and all sorts of really bad things together. Last night my husband and I went to see the 12:10 am showing of 'Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince' and while the movie was all-in-all pretty good, I was reminded once again that I can't breathe for the first few minutes when I walk in a movie complex.

There's the aroma of popcorn, of course, but then you also have to add some sugary candy smells. And then some nervous sweat which leads to BO. Compound that with about 50-60 different colognes and perfumes, nachos and hot dogs, mix in some wet dog and some peppermint, and that my friends, is what a movie theatre smells like. It's stifling. It's awful. It's actually kind of gross.

Can't we open the emergency exits and air that place out every once in a while? Hundreds and hundreds of people come in and sit and take up room and air, and leave all their smells behind over and over, day after day, and nothing fresh ever gets back there. There is oxygen in some movie theatres that has been cycling for days, years, decades. That poor oxygen, it needs to see the light of day! Some other little molecules need to come in and take their place for a while.

Just for ten minutes everyday, let's open all those doors folks. If not for my sake, then do it for the carpet and the upholstery. Won't somebody think of the fabric?

2009-07-12T13:15:00.001-06:00

Ahhhh. . . The lake. Where you can buy fudge and get a tatoo all at the same store.

2009-07-11T23:01:00.001-06:00

Ahhhh. . . The lake. Where you lay in bed at the end of the day and still feel like you are going up and down on the waves.

2009-07-11T21:28:00.001-06:00

Ahhhh. . . The lake. Where you can get six big bites in under a second.

2009-07-11T19:41:00.001-06:00

Ahhhh. . . The lake. Where skeetball still costs one dime and air hockey a quarter.

Note to self -

2009-07-07T21:18:00.000-06:00

Leave Blogger template alone!! I lost all of my blog list . . .

2009-07-04T23:22:00.001-06:00

Fourth of July: swimming in a lake with friends and family. Marveling at the way Nathan's hair doesn't get wet. Watching Kelley canoe around. Grilling and eating got dogs and brats. Shooting off lots of fireworks. Almost two and a half hours of shooting of fireworks over a lake. Only getting showered by sparks once. Witnessing the loudness that is a sparkler bomb. Watching a pair of teenage boys blow up a glass bottle. Eating homemade ice cream. All in all best fourth of July yet.

2009-06-30T09:41:00.001-06:00

Mobile blogging . . . Trying it out to see what it does.

Well, that's what that was.

2009-06-28T12:45:00.001-06:00

My little buddy in the lavender bush died overnight. Poor guy. We tried.

Fledgling or Nestling?

2009-06-27T23:28:00.002-06:00

Today Becca informed me that there was a baby bird in the grass in our backyard. It seemed to have fallen from a nest that was very high up, but it didn't appear to be hurt. It was just a little guy with feathers growing in and also some down. As soon as any of us walked near him (or her) it opened it's little beak expectantly for food.

I guess deep down, I do have some maternal instincts, because I did immediately want to help this little speckled thing.

So I did what any person needing knowledge does, I came inside, and I googled.

Turns out you can touch baby birds, and their mother will still associate them. I always thought it was some sort of taboo - but apparently birds don't even have that great of a sense of smell, and wouldn't be able to tell if you touched their kid or not. Interesting.

The other thing I learned was that I should try to get the bird back in the nest. Which was very high up. So that option was shot. Even with the ladder my husband was -ahem- borrowing at the moment for other renovations, it was a no-go.

So we decided to move him. But by that time it was dark. So my husband says 'Hey do you really need me for this?' and I responded 'Yes, I need you for moral support!' (And, to hold the flashlight)

'Operation:move baby robin' was successful as we transplanted him/her/it to a lavender plant that was the closest thing we have to a bush in our yard.

I am pretty concerned that one of the neighborhood cats will get him, but maybe, just maybe, the lavender will hid his smell. (I didn't even think about that until right now, I am a genius!)

We also dug for worms for this him/her/it, because we haven't been able to observe if the mom is still coming down and feeding it. She should be, but who knows. I'm not really sure that robins are that smart. Especially the one that's been following my husband around this week as he has power tools in his hand and is demolishing walls. We fed the bird three littler sized worms, and he gobbled them right up. I have to admit, it was pretty cute.

The worst thing that happened was when we transported the bird, a neighborhood cat came by with something crying/squeaking/squawking in it's mouth. So maybe he'll eat whatever that was (another baby bird? a mouse? baby Sasquatch?) and be too full for other things all night. Bill is a particular vicious outdoors cat, even though he does have an emasculating name like Billy. And a collar with hearts and a bell. But don't let that fool you, he'll gnaw a finger off.

So, all things going well, I'll hear back form the wildlife expert I emailed tomorrow telling me what to do, and when I walk outside tomorrow, the bird will still be under the lavender, all extremities still attached.

And hey, if it's under the lavender all night, it'll be relaxed, right?

Amazing things you see as a Massage Therapist:

2009-06-24T09:20:00.002-06:00

1. People with extra toes.
2. People with toes coming out of the top of their foot.
3. Triple nipples.
4. Back-ne.
5. A lot of hair where it shouldn't be.
6. Interesting tatoos that you can't ask about.
7. Big surgery scars.

And that's just some of the interesting things I saw during my clinical rotation, which I finished in May. So now I just have to take Nationals and call it good. And plan some sort of graduation party . . . .

I promise - I'll be back

2009-03-31T14:39:00.002-06:00

I don't know if there are many people who check this blog, lurkers or whatnot, but I will be back to write more at some point. I run across things every day where I think 'this will be a really fun blog entry' but with working and going on clinical rotation now, I am hard pressed to find two minutes to actually hop on the computer and write it out.

I will be back once everything calms down, or sooner, if I can find some time, or take a day off work. I blog to keep my creative writing skills flexed and ready to go, so I'm not quitting anytime soon.

Plus, I have soem pretty amazing stories from clinic already, and it's only been two weeks!

In the past four months I have had:

2009-03-06T15:50:00.001-06:00

Bronchitis
Pneumonia
2 colds
Pinkeye in both eyes.

My immune system hates me!!

Winning a battle, just starting the war

2009-02-23T10:10:00.002-06:00

FBI, police rescue child prostitutes around U.S.
Feds rescue dozens of teens, arrest more than 50 alleged pimps

WASHINGTON - The FBI has rescued more than 45 suspected teenage prostitutes, some as young as 13, in a nationwide sweep to remove kids from the illegal sex trade and punish their accused pimps.

Over a three-night initiative called Operation Cross Country, federal agents working with local law enforcement also arrested more than 50 alleged pimps, according to preliminary bureau data.

The teenage prostitutes found in the investigation ranged in age from 13 to 17.

Historically, federal authorities rarely play a role in anti-prostitution crackdowns, but the FBI is becoming more involved as it tries to rescue children caught up in the business.

"The goal is to recover kids. We consider them the child victims of prostitution," said FBI Deputy Assistant Director Daniel Roberts.

"Unfortunately, the vast majority of these kids are what they term 'throwaway kids,' with no family support, no friends. They're kids that nobody wants, they're loners. Many are runaways," Roberts said.

Kids in custody
Most of the children are put into the custody of local child protection agencies.

Agents in cities from Miami to Chicago to Anchorage, Alaska took part in the operation.

The federal effort is also designed to hit pimps with much tougher prison sentences than they would likely get in state criminal courts.

Government prosecutors look to bring racketeering charges or conspiracy charges that can result in decades of jail time.

"Some of these networks of pimps and their organizations are very sophisticated, they're interstate," said Roberts, requiring wiretaps and undercover sting operations to bring charges.

The weekend's roundup marked the third such Operation Cross Country, and is part of a broader federal program launched in 2003 to crack down on the sexual exploitation of children.

Stupid Day Spa

2009-02-10T09:28:00.001-06:00

About a year ago, I did an amazing thing. I quit what was quite possibly the worse job I have ever had. I didn’t have a new job lined up, and I knew that maybe it wasn’t the smartest thing in the world, but I did it anyway.

The next week I took stock of where I was, where I wanted to be, and I went back to school.

And now, a year, one job, and 9 classes later, I am still dang happy that I made that decision.

Happy Anniversary, Self!

awesome things from this weekend

2009-02-02T22:50:00.002-06:00

1. Opal threw up on my feet on Friday, awakening me minutes before my alarm clock.
2. I slept until noon on Saturday. Seriously.
3. I participated in cosmic bowling.
4. I had jello shots at previously mentioned cosmic bowling.
5. I ate hashbrowns with nuts in them, and they were delicious.
6. The Super Bowl commercials were worse than anticipated, while Bruce Springsteen was surprisingly better.
7. I got to watch last week's episode of Lost, and it's still the best show ever.

Doing it all wrong

2009-01-26T22:17:00.002-06:00

Every once in a while, I feel the need to post something thought provoking, even perhaps a bit deep. Not because I think that my opinion is so very important, nor because I feel the need to be smart and philosophical. In fact, I'd much rather write something that was witty and full of humor than something that drones on and on about my own forays into the world of classical thought.

But alas, I'm afraid I have been thinking.

Thinking about how despite our 'American Dream' work ethic, and our continuing slide toward workaholism, our country seems to be in a bit of a pickle.

Even though our corporate motto is harder, better, stronger, faster, more, we are really none of these things. We aren't better for it, are we? Our continual chasing after whatever it is we're chasing didn't solve our problems. It might have even created some of them.

Today, a day being called Black Monday by some because of the more than 70,000 jobs announced to be cut in our country alone, the stock market falling and falling, and people losing their homes, I can't help but think that perhaps we're doing something wrong.

Of course, this is all my opinion, but what if today instead of pushing ourselves to the limits, stressing ourselves out, and going above and beyond perhaps what our mind can handle, what if we decided to take care of ourselves? To take a break and not feel guilty? To take our full hour of lunch, and leave by five, no matter what we've got in our inbox.

How about we examine what we're doing in our lives, and decide if that's really an truly what we want to do? What if we thought about what made us fulfilled and happy instead of what somebody else is telling us should make us fulfilled and happy?

I'm not talking about a nation full of slackers. I'm talking about people really knowing how to balance things. People who find who they are not in their job, but in their joy. People who decided they want to live life to the full, and pursuing what that really means. People not afraid to take a few days, months, years, decades, to figure out what they want to do.

I understand that this is not just something I've thought up. It's not even revolutionary, because there are people who live by this. And they seem, well, joyful. The thing is, I don't work with a lot of them.

Having entered a truly money-based business is corporate America a month ago, I have to say that I am saddened by the way my colleagues and I live our our days. Never ending projects, reports, staying late, stressing out, feeling jaded. It's not some phenomenon, it's some sort of misguided work ethic, turned into a monster that promises MORE! MORE money! MORE status! MORE awards! MORE power!

So I am saying 'no' right now. I know it may seem young, and idealistic, and some people will continue to say that it's foolish to live any other way, but I just can't. For the sake of me, my health, my family, my faith, everything, I just can't do this much longer than I absolutely have to.

And I think it would benefit us all if we would just slow down, and truly look at what this crazy pace has gotten us. Nothing real great, I don't think. So I encourage you to think about what made you happy when you were a kid, and try to get back to that place every once in a while. Think about what hobbies you used to really enjoy that maybe you've stopped, and how to start them again. Do something truly ridiculous everyday, take a nap, take a whole day off and don't feel guilty. Instead of looking for how to cram more things into less time, enjoy spreading your day out. Instead of doing four things really awfully, do one thing with great care and with great quality.

But most of all, what I encourage you to do is to spend time with the wonderful and amazing God that created you. Because I think He might have some pretty good ideas at what he created you for, and who you truly are, with no lies, no walls, no facades to get in the way. And if you need a place to start, just remember that no matter what, you are a child of God. And go from there.

Because maybe, just maybe that's the right way to do things.

Movie Montages

2009-01-18T13:37:00.002-06:00

Many members of my family have been trying to think of all the movies that certain scenes in which someone runs into a glass door. It would be a dang good movie montage to put all of these clips together.

The only thing is we know that we've seen it in tons of movies, but when trying to list them, we can only think of a few.

So my challenge to you: Help us think of more! Leave a comment to remind us of a great face-into-glass moment from a movie.

A must-read for all of us who love teachers

2009-01-09T15:49:00.001-06:00

What's Wrong With Teachers?
By Tamim Ansary

The Chinese philosopher Confucius was known by many titles but his proudest honorific was "great teacher." In fact, over the centuries, teachers have been revered figures in many cultures and countries.

I thought about this the other day when I ran across an online rant about teachers seeking more money in some school district somewhere. "FACT," this ranter wrote. "LAZY TEACHERS JUST WANT A THREE DAY WEEKEND! Just say NO to them, they are already OVERPAID and UNDERWORKED, and the public needs to remind them who they work for ..."

Unfortunately, this fellow is not alone. A few years ago, when I wrote a column suggesting that teachers were underpaid, I got a flood of responses from readers. Some agreed with me, but they were mostly teachers. Others -- perhaps half -- not only disagreed but expressed quite a surprising hostility toward teachers. In essence, they said teachers had some nerve expecting to be paid like engineers when their work was more like filing and babysitting.

Growing disrespect
I was aware, of course, that teachers have long been under attack. In 1979, Pink Floyd recorded an immensely popular song that featured a boot-stomping chorus of children chanting, "We don't need no education! We don't need no thought control!" interrupted by the singer shouting, "Teacher! Leave them kids alone!"

When I first heard this song, my mother was an elementary school teacher in the last years of her career, and I was acutely aware of how she struggled every day to stay upright under the blows and buffeting she received from tyrannical bureaucrats, clamorous parents and unruly children. What made her struggle all the more grinding was the growing disrespect she could sense for her profession in the society at large.

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One such current took a seminal turn in 1978, when California passed a ballot measure known as Proposition 13. With that initiative, the state slashed its property taxes by one-third. Within five years, 37 other states had enacted similar legislation, and within a decade the prairie fire of tax revolt had spread to every corner of the nation.

But property taxes had been the primary source of school funding; that has been an American tradition. When those revenues shrank, something had to give. No one wanted to cut necessary programs, so budget slashers looked for unnecessary ones. The pressure they were working under, however, predisposed them to see more and more programs as unnecessary, as "frills." They had to. Summer school classes vanished, arts programs dropped away, school libraries were closed and many extracurricular activities, such as music clubs and even sports, which had once softened the core programs of basic skills training, were eliminated.

This sparser education gave students less to look forward to at school and less fodder, therefore, for fond memories later. When they became adults, these students were apt to remember school as bitter medicine: Good for you at best, but nothing to look back on with nostalgia, any more than one looks back nostalgically to root canal work, though one might appreciate still having teeth. This feeling surely infects, at least subliminally, public sentiment toward teachers.

The tax revolt, however, was just one current. Coincidentally, in the years leading up to Proposition 13, school reformers were developing a set of ideas that ended up fitting in neatly with the coming funding crisis. They proposed to improve schools with measures that not only would cost no money but actually depended on spending less. In brief, they proposed to replace funding-driven solutions with punishment-based ones. The old view, in place since the 1930s, had held that the key to good education at the K-12 level was to research how kids learn and then fund activities that promoted learning, no matter what the cost. The new reformers by contrast recommended that we as a society decide what kids should learn and then punish those who failed to learn it, ultimately by withholding funds from schools and teachers.

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Someone to blame
The new approach failed to deliver the desired results, and this has had consequences. It's true that today some observers see progress, but others see none. Both opinions probably reflect political agendas, and neither rests on indisputable evidence, which leaves the public free to believe, as it does believe, that America's educational system is in crisis. And if there is a crisis, someone must be to blame.

But who is to blame? Potential targets abound, of course: bureaucrats, educrats, the left, the right, the spineless middle, "kids today," funding cuts, throwing-money-at-the-problem, society at large -- each of these is someone's favorite scapegoat. Teachers, however, hold pride of place as potential blamees: They're the hardest targets to miss.

Public school teachers are all the more vulnerable to blame because of another current in that perfect storm of social forces I mentioned above. Throughout the 19th century, when few people went to school beyond eighth grade, teachers were almost universally women; society regarded them as hobbyists working for "pin money" to supplement their husband's incomes, or they were marking time while waiting to get married. Since they supposedly weren't supporting families or even themselves, they didn't have to earn much and they weren't paid much. Things changed, deepened and diversified in the 20th century, but it wasn't until the late 1960s that the teaching profession became unionized. After that, teachers' salaries and benefits improved at a pace exceeding the national average for a period. Teachers never reached parity with high-end professions such as medicine and law; even so, by the 1980s, compared to most workers, they enjoyed enviable benefits including job security, health plans, pensions and summer vacations.

The trouble was, they were flowing against the tide. Teachers were developing dynamic, politically influential unions just as union strength in general was fading: The bulk of the old industrial unions lost ground as manufacturing moved overseas. Many workers, unionized or not, were losing benefits just when teachers were gaining theirs. In the 1980s, private companies began scaling back health plans. Employers cut down on pension contributions. Economic changes eroded job security. Technological changes forced many workers to contemplate not just changing jobs but careers. These trends, which continue to this day, cannot help but feed resentment toward teachers. (It's those summer vacations people seem to find most galling.)

But there's more
When industrial unions struggled for higher wages, they were going up against the owners of specific private businesses. People outside those companies had no stake in the struggle and no personal reason to care which side won or who got how much of the company's profits.

Teachers, by contrast, get their money from taxpayers. When they seek a raise, they seek it from "us," not "them." Teachers and parents may have a natural confluence of interests, but teachers and taxpayers have an inherently adversarial relationship. For a taxpayer, the question is never simply, "Do teachers deserve more money," but "Do teachers deserve more money from me?" Anyone who feels a reluctance to say yes is predisposed to assign a lower value to teachers' work and consider it easy. And indeed, when people reacted to my column about teachers being under- or over-paid, their opinion correlated pretty precisely with whether they saw teaching as difficult and sophisticated or as a rote, near-clerical job that anyone could do.

Want More Tamim?
Read other columns by Tamim Ansary.And now, to complete the perfect storm: School reform based on standards, testing and accountability, the movement born in the 1970s and still going strong, tends to reduce teachers' decision-making powers and their creative role in the educational process. It's the accidental but inevitable by-product of a reform project that seeks to systematize education by establishing exact, detailed curriculum objectives, mandating how these are to be taught, testing to see if they have been learned and dispensing funds according to test scores. This approach tends to reduce teachers to mere conduits between curriculum development specialists and kids, between kids and testing experts, between tests and funding agencies. Their job can be codified into a function. This prevents the worst teachers from wreaking damage but prevents the best teachers from soaring. The metamorphosis in the teacher's role helps to validate limiting their earnings but also reinforces whatever disregard the public may already feel toward teachers.

Best and brightest
Lee Iacocca once said, "In a truly rational society, the best of us would be teachers, and the rest would have to settle for something less." Although this is clearly not how it works now -- people whose grades and SAT scores give them broad options tend to favor more lucrative professions -- some extremely gifted people do still go into teaching, simply because they feel a calling. It's the same reason some people become artists. But if the concept of "Great Teacher" doesn't exist in the public imagination, what will draw the best and brightest into this career?

In a 1969 survey, 75 percent of parents said they would be proud to see their children grow up to be public school teachers. By 1982, that number had dropped to 46 percent. I haven't seen more recent surveys, but I would bet money it's dropped further still. If the best steer away from teaching, teaching will justifiably strike the public as a lower-grade profession: It's a vicious cycle built on a self-fulfilling prophecy.

Many people feel that bad teachers should suffer appropriate consequences. They're frustrated that our current system makes it hard to demote or fire a teacher. I agree. Why should teachers enjoy immunity from the consequences of doing terrible work?

By the same token, however, teachers ought to be able to look forward to reaping appropriate consequences for doing great work, and I’m not talking about money. I'm talking about respect. I'm saying, as a society, let's find our way back to making "teacher" an honorific, so that our greatest teachers will enjoy a prestige equal to that of our greatest artists, generals, orators, inventors and sports heroes. If we do that, I predict we’ll wake up one day and say, "Hey, what ever happened to that 'crisis in the schools' people used to fuss about?"

Goodbye to the Holidays

2009-01-07T08:44:00.000-06:00

I like putting up the Christmas Decorations. The front room gets all sparkly and glows at night, the presents look so cheerful, and the Christmas music plays in the evening. It’s cozy and warm.

At the same time, I enjoy putting up the Christmas decorations. I can put everything in its place, I can remove clutter, and everything goes back to normal. My house looks like it does all the time, and I start to get hopeful for the changing of the seasons, and warmer weather, and longer days.

By the time that Christmas is over, I guess I’m over Christmas.

In review

2009-01-05T12:03:00.000-06:00

It’s been a rough ending to the year 2008 around here. Along with my awesome stint with pneumonia, including a great trip to the hospital (did you know chest x-rays can cost up to $600? I sure didn’t!), my old job broke up with me. That’s right, I got laid off. In fact, they told me the same day I went to the emergency room which really just shows poor planning on everybody’s part, I think.

Having never been fired or laid off before, this whole experience was pretty new to me. And because I really liked the job I had, and the people I worked with, it did, in fact, feel like I had been broken up with. I actually cried. More than once.
I was jobless for the whole month of December which was both nerve-racking (shopping with no prospects in mind=cheap but really thoughtful gifts), and nice, because I missed driving in at least 3 or 4 days of bad weather, and I baked cookies and other Christmas treats. I caught up on some TV such as The View (ugh), Days (ugh), and Oprah (ugh-ugh). I wrapped presents, mailed out Christmas Cards and slept a lot. Mostly to get over Pneumonia, but also just because I could. I was very well rested.

I kind of forget how much I hate to search for jobs and begin a new job until I have to do it again. I must have mailed and emailed my resume out to at least a hundred different places and checked Careerbuilder and Craigslist everyday for new postings. I wrote cover letters that were great, and cover letters that were bs.

And I sat around and waited for somebody to call.

Somebody called and I started a new job last week. Woot.

At least my old job had the balls to break up with me face-to-face. I’ve had boyfriends that couldn’t even do that.

Remember Summer? Because I do.

2008-12-16T21:37:00.001-06:00

Ongoing Dreams

2008-12-01T10:19:00.002-06:00

I tend to have a lot of the same dreams over and over. I'll dream about being a lifeguard again, being in college and having to take a final for a class I've never been to, or the ever popular I'm in a play and it's opening night, and I realize I don't know my lines and have never been to rehearsal.

Last night was a variation on one dream I have all the time. I'm driving my car down the highway, but something is happening to impair my driving ability. Like, I'm sitting on the Passenger side of the car, trying to reach the pedals from there. Or I'm in the backseat, trying to grab the steering wheel.

The version last night was similar, but I was really, really, really short and couldn't actually see over the steering wheel. I was sure driving on the highway though. I was pretty panicked.

I dont think any of these dreams mean anything other than I like to give myself panic attacks even when I'm asleep, so, way to go me!

It must have offended him in some way

2008-11-26T10:31:00.002-06:00

Two days ago, while at Walgreens (Walgreens and I are tight, you know, having pneumonia and all) I saw an old man picking up Kleenex boxes and reading the back of them. After he was done, or maybe somewhere in the middle of reading it, he got tired, and threw the box on the ground and picked up another one.

There was already a pile of four or five at his feet, and he was adding to it quickly.

I really wish I knew what was going on there . . .

Doctor, Doctor, Give me the news . . .

2008-11-24T11:19:00.002-06:00

And the news is:

Pneumonia!

It's true. For the last two weeks, my body has been sabotaging itself by collecting all sorts of various junk and storing it in my left lung. Way to go me!

It started out as Bronchitis which was being passed around the in-laws and made it's way to my house. Of course I quickly caught onto the trend, but my immune system decided to take Hoilday early, leaving my poor little lungs to fend for themselves - which they didn't.

After seeing the Doctor once and calling her umpteen times, we get to last Wednesday which is the day I tried to go back to work. I'm fine, I thought. It's just a little virus that is being taken care of by the two antibiotics I am on. I am good to go to work.

Fast forward to noon on Wednesday, my co-worker driving me home so that my husband can come get me and take me to the Emergency Room. Why? Because everytime I breathe, and sometimes in between, I feel like there's a little man with a taser inside my chest, laughing sadistically and pulling the trigger. Or, conversely, like I'm in some sequel to Speed, and I can't fill my lung capacity over a certain percent or my chest will explode.

Four hours in the ER later, and my Doctor tells me my lung is disgusting. That's the actual medical term I think, disgusting. So I get new antibiotics, a breathing treatment (which my husband thinks looks like me smoking a hookah and proceeds to take my picture on his cell phone) and I'm ready to go home. No needles, IV's, or blood. Well done.

So let's see: I've probably read 10 or so books, including the whole Twilight saga (that's right, I'm now a giddy teenage girls about those, sorry), watched hours and hours of crap TV while I barely paid attention, and slept a lot. Like, I somehow became one of my cats, I slept so much. Ollie and Opal were quite proud of how lethargic I had to be, I think.

And that's my story. I am felling better, except I am pretty sure I strained several of my chest muscles coughing so much, so coughing is quite a endeavor, and sneezing is completely horrendous. It makes me curse out loud.

My opinion? nobody should get Pneumonia. Not only does it make you feel like you're in the Victorian ages stuck with the plague, but it's just a bad idea in general.

Especially if the little man has a really powerful taser.

My birthday gets overshadowed

2008-11-05T11:11:00.003-06:00

But I guess that's what happens when history is getting made right?

On a serious note, I am more relieved that anything that this l-o-n-g process is over. At least for the next 2 and 1/2 years. Or, heck, Palin could be in Alaska planning for 2012 as we speak.

But the yards signs are coming down, I haven't heard a radio ad, haven't seen a tv ad, and Oprah has stopped doing the ugly cry. (Seriously, she was there in Chicago, and CNN kept showing her bawling with her beloved Steadman.)

I'm just going to tell you that I am not saying who I voted for, or what I wanted to get approved. I am taking a completely politics-free holiday for the next several weeks, and I don't want to hear about it.

However, before I leave the realm of politics, I would just like to share with you some words of wisdom from my mother, who used to say this to me a lot when I asked questions about the future, or was upset about something:

'I subscribe to the 'pan' theory. It'll all pan out in the end.'

Last night's Hilarity

2008-10-19T10:57:00.002-06:00

Enjoy!

And then there was this to open the show:

Finally there was this, the icing on the cake:

Friday Things I have been thinking about instead of doing work:

2008-10-17T10:19:00.002-06:00

1. Why on Earth do people still give Ryan Seacrest jobs? Aren't we all tired of him by now?

2. Just how cold is it going to be for the game tonight, and what should I wear?

3. How come I don't have any apple cider here at work? I should definitely be sipping on come warm cider right about now.

4. What are my cats doing right now at home?

5. Why is Mark Wahlberg upset about this?

Coach's Wife's Log - Stardate 10/1/08

2008-10-02T13:55:00.003-06:00

Gametime: a lovely 7:00 pm, later than the normal 3:15 primtime games we get.

Drive to stadium: Lovely

Walk around stadium after parking because only one gate was open to get in and guess what, it sure as heck wasn't the convenient one by the parking lot: not so lovely

Number of fans at game: Many, unfortunately, not seated on opposite sides of fields, so many yelling battles and snide remarks were made from opposing fans

How many times I reminded myself that normally, I like teenagers: Several

How many times I contemplated going over to the bunch of students yelling inappropriate things and pretending I was an administrator of the school district: Several times

How many times I had to tell myself that I was an adult and shouldn't be annoyed by the high schooler sitting in the stands: Several times

Scoreboard malfunctions: 0 (because it was never turned on)

Drink of choice after game: hot chocolate to unfreeze posterior.

equation

2008-09-30T09:49:00.001-06:00

Full-time school + full-time work + home business + massage practice = 32 hours of my 24 hour day.

Which also = no time for things I would rather be doing, such as writing here, on my blog.

Coach's wife's log - Stardate 9/12/08

2008-09-16T14:48:00.003-06:00

Weather Conditions: Tornadic. Sirens going off in several counties.

My mood: Apprehensive. Surely they will reschedule, right?

My husband: Stuck in the basement of the school with the freshman team.

Appointments before game: Haircut. Badly needed. Needed desperately. So desperately, driving through tornadic weather ensued.

Hair looked: Smashing.

How long hair looked smashing: about 2 seconds, until stepped outside in torrential rain.

Final game time: 9:00am Sat. Morning

Where I was at 9:00am on Sat. Morning: In bed.

Updated -

2008-09-05T10:25:00.002-06:00

We may have revived Ben's RAZR V3.

The day was not a total loss!

Coach's wife's log - Stardate 9/3/08

2008-09-04T14:39:00.002-06:00

(I've always wanted to start out by saying stardate, I just never knew what it was. So I decided in my world, Stardate=real date.)

Yesterday's game, the first of the season.
Weather: Rainy, windy, colder than September should be.
Score: 20-0.
Did we win: No.
Losses accounted for besides game: 1 RAZR, black, V3, in my husband's pocket the entire game while it rained.
Wet, cold, inappropriately attired, Freshmen Cheerleaders: 4
Amount of cheers they lead: Approximately a new one every minute.
The best thing I brought: a red fleece blanket.
How I looked after the game: Drowned.

The last week

2008-08-29T10:24:00.003-06:00

In the last week, two absolutely amazing things have happened. I shall describe them in detail.

First, last Friday, my sister-in-law and I managed to squeak out some tickets to see Kathy Griffin, who was out at Starlight, performing comedy in an outside venue. We arrived early, found our seats, and bought some margarita's.

Becca found the tickets on Craig's list, and although I was kind of afraid of meeting some guy in a parking lot to get these tickets, all turned out okay. (But I was trying to remember all I had learned in my self-defense classs on the way to get the tickets, just in case.) They were for seats about 26 or so rows from the front, and no one too tall blocking the way.

People Kathy talked about:
Brittany Spears
Justin Timberlake
Cher
Larry king
Rosie O'Donnell
David Cook
Paula Abdul
Eminem
Obama (she kept asking anyone if they got the 'VP text' that was supposed to go out that day)
Her mother
Miley Cyrus
and my personal favorite 20 minutes:

Nancy Grace!

Turns out Kathy finds her as annoying as I do, which is awesome. I could summarize all that she said, but it just wouldn't be as great as hearing her do it. She had no opener, and spent over two hours onstage! Needless to say, it was a great night, and I really want Kathy Griffin to be my BFF now.

The second great thing happened on Wednesday. We are all at work, just doing the normal job related duties and all of the sudden there's a strange woman knocking on the door (we keep it locked). When I answer the door, said woman says 'Hi! I'm from so-and-so business park, and for being our tenant, today is FREE ICE CREAM DAY!'

Not kidding.

Ever seen the episode of The Office where it's free pretzel day? Same thing, only the business park pays for a fully loaded ice cream truck to come around and we get to go outside, line up, and get whatever we want for free! I got a chocolate taco, and it was fantastic. And I felt like I was closer than ever to the TV show 'The Office' which is enough to make anybody smile.

So all-in-all, I'm just saying, my week has been pretty good, and to top it all off -THREE DAY WEEKEND!!

Sometimes you read sentences so good....

2008-08-15T14:44:00.002-06:00

...You have to share them:

'Ariel looked queenly and elegant and ten times younger than her real age. Like [her daughter], her hair was blond and her boobs were big. She drove a convertible, wore diamonds with denim, and she never missed a homecoming game. She was so Southern that she cried tears that came straight from The Mississippi, and she always smelled faintly of cotonwoods and peaches.'

-Sarah Addison Allen
Garden Spells

List of possible real meanings behind the 'HOLD ON!' license plate that was attached to the black car in front of me yesterday:

2008-08-14T13:20:00.002-06:00

1. Hold on, I'm trying to get it in second gear!

2. Hold on, I'm talking on my cell phone about very important things!

3. Hold on, I can't be expected to read my book and drive and do both things well, can I?

4. Hold on, I dropped something on the floor and have to bend over and get it, thus making myself completely invisible from your vantage point!

5. Hold on, I may need to make a right turn at any moment, and therefore will keep my blinker on the entire time we are on the highway.

6. Hold on, I've completely forgotten how to drive!

7. Hold on, what do those yellow lines on the road mean?

8. Hold on,I can only get this car up to 40.

If Only

2008-08-06T09:35:00.002-06:00

Find more amazing LOLcat photos here: www.icanhascheezburger.com.

Things that I think represent all that is wrong with the world (Part One)

2008-08-04T10:40:00.003-06:00

1. Barbara Walters.
2. Cage fighting, extreme or otherwise.
3. Joe Francis and his Girls Gone Wild empire.
4. The TV show 'Flipping out' on Bravo, but mostly the main boss, Jeff.
5. Shayne and Suede on this Season's Project Runway.
6. Cilantro.
7.The people (yes FOUR different people) who played frisbee golf THROUGH the wedding we were shooting, who didn't have the decency to go around us, or at least skip the hole.
8. Workaholics who I know had kids and a spouse at home, waiting for them.
9. Corporate America (I can say that, I am part of it)
10. Not being able to download Flash Player on my computer at work, without putting in an IT ticket in, and even then, I'm sure they'd deny it.

for your entertainment

2008-07-24T11:08:00.002-06:00

For one day only, the amazing, one-of-a-kind, the unbelievable, two-headed feline!

(Why does Opal allow Ollie to sit on her like that?)

Poor guy

2008-07-16T15:14:00.002-06:00

This morning I went to work and got stuck behind a man at a major intersection who did not go when the light was green. I gave him a little honk, but no such luck. The guy behind me started to honk. No movement. I laid out another honk, this one louder and longer. Nothing. By this time, the lane next to me had cleared so I went around the stagnant car and took a peek at the idiot that was being so oblivious.

The guy was asleep, sitting up in his car, mouth open, doing the sleepy-head-bobble. I have no idea how he was keeping his foot on the brake.

Gettin' all Thomas Kincaide on it's ass (installment two)

2008-07-10T10:00:00.002-06:00

For those of you who don't unerstand the title, feel free to see part one here.http://em-b.blogspot.com/2008/04/that-poem-was-gooduntil-you-went-all.html

I've been thinking for quite a while now that I would really like to try a body pillow at night. I could use it under my knees when I'm on my back, or I could curl around it when I am on my side. Either way, it would help my spine align more naturally. But that's besides the point.

Thinking about buying a pillow like that brought to mind this huge blue and green pillow my sisiter had when we were kids. It was as tall as I was when I was 7, and hideously midnight blue and forrest green striped, and a little fuzzy. I really wish I had a picture of it, because it might have been the ugliest thing we owned. We loved that thing. If we brough it out to the TV room, we could both lay all over it while we watched Saturday Morning Cartoons. (The Caboose Clubhouse Gang, anyone?)

I haven't remembered that pillow or those Saturday mornings in quite a while. It's funny when things like that, things you haven't thought of for years can come out of nowhere. I can still remember the smell of that pillow.

Bugs!

2008-07-07T19:21:00.002-06:00

Last night the two cats woke me up by chasing bugs. In the complete dark. On the bed. How did they see these bugs? I don't know, but they most definitely were there when I turned on the light. They're fiesty litle predators. We had tow hunt down and squish two before I could go back to bed. It's the summer, and I have a feeling this has only just begun...

Seriously, sometimes I think they sit around during the day thinking of new ways to make me lose sleep. Hey! I kow! Let's throw up on the bed! Let's chase bugs and run into walls loudly! Let's pretend that we have every right to be in the basement and scratch on the door for five minutes straight! Let's meow at the faucet!

However, on the other side, I think Opal got stung by a bee on her little chin. It was sad. She hid for quite a while, and had a little red dot on her chin, but this morning everything is fine. Crisis averted.

It's the Patriot 'Act'

2008-07-01T20:47:00.001-06:00

Enjoy:

A good and sad read

2008-06-30T10:55:00.003-06:00

An article from 'The Catholic Key' an online publication:

KANSAS CITY - It can't happen here. New York or Los Angeles, sure, but not here in Kansas City. It only happens someplace else, right?

"Human trafficking is more prevalent in this region than most people know," said Janel D'Agata Lynch, program manager for community services at Catholic Charities of Kansas City-St. Joseph.

"Local people were shocked when the news broke about the massage parlor raids in Overland Park, Kan., and earlier this year, the central Missouri boy who was found, along with a second boy, in the St. Louis area.

"Human trafficking is not always 'some place else,'" D'Agata Lynch said.

A report released in June by the State Department's Office to Monitor and Combat Trafficking in Persons, labeled the U.S. as "a source and destination" country for thousands of men, women and children trafficked annually for purposes of sexual, and to a lesser extent, labor exploitation.

Procurement and sales of human organs, illegal adoption of children under the age of 18, and mail-order brides constitute other forms of human trafficking.

Melissa Snow of Shared Hope International, a non-profit organization founded in 1998 serving sexually exploited women and children, told The Catholic Key that the Midwest has become a kind of pipeline for human trafficking. "The truck traffic on Interstate 35 may be carrying more than meets the eye," she said. "I-35 bisects the country from Laredo, Texas, to Duluth, Minn., with access to highways leading east and west. Truckers can load women and children into their cabs and transfer them to other trucks at truck stops along the way. They can park so close together that children can be moved without their feet even touching the ground - invisibly."

An unknown number of American citizens and legal residents are trafficked within the country, mostly for the commercial sex industry, including prostitution, sex entertainment and pornography. The State Department estimates that between 100,000 and 300,000 American children under the age of 18 are at risk of being trafficked within the U.S. for commercial sexual exploitation.

Kristy Childs, director of Veronica's Voice, a local organization she founded in 2001 to help prostituted women reclaim their lives, said she had been contacted by or worked with more than 5,000 women.

In his February 2007 pastoral letter on pornography, Kansas City St. Joseph Bishop Robert Finn wrote that, ". pornography is a serious sin against chastity and the dignity of the human person. It robs us of sanctifying grace, separates us from the vision of God and from the goodness of others, and leaves us spiritually empty. Attraction to pornography and its gratifications is a false 'love' that leads to increasing emotional isolation loneliness and subsequent sexual acting-out with self and others. It depends on the exploitation of other persons: frequently the desperate or poor, or the innocent young. Use of pornography has cost persons their jobs, their marriages and families. Traffickers in child pornography may end up in prison. It has often been associated with and has contributed to, acts of sexual violence and abuse."

Snow said victims come from all ages (the average age of entry into the commercial sex or sex entertainment industries is 13), racial and socio-economic backgrounds. "People try to compartmentalize: 'Oh, they asked for it,' or 'That girl has always been a slut.' We have to re-educate people and change the language to place the blame where it belongs: on pimps and traffickers, not on the victims, especially the children," she said.
Kristy Childs said much the same thing.

"These women and girls are not prostitutes, they are prostituted," she said. A trafficking and prostitution survivor, Childs is familiar with many situations young girls and women unwittingly find themselves in.

The United States Conference of Catholic Bishops' Web site on human trafficking cites research done by Richard Estes and Neil Alan Weiner of the University of Pennsylvania, which indicates that 75 percent of sex trafficked children come from middle class backgrounds. Rural children are often more naive than inner city children, making them easier targets.

Traffickers include criminal networks, strangers, other youth, pedophiles and a transient male population, even family members and acquaintances.

Children are lured from inside their own homes through the Internet (one in five children have been approached online), in school, at movie theaters and arcades, bus and train stations, at the homes of friends or at dance clubs. Runaways are particularly vulnerable, often being approached or coerced within 48 hours of hitting the streets, Snow said.

According to Catholic Charities USA, vulnerable children can be exploited through their need for love and affection, their need to belong or fit in, low self-esteem, physical or psychological needs, or problems at home. Traffickers may promise affection, money or designer clothes. The child is often isolated and alienated from friends and family. Once a trafficker moves a child to a strange place, forcing her into prostitution is simple.

Catholic Charities USA described domestic minor trafficking victims, whether middle class or not, as usually coming from dysfunctional and unstable families, often with serious drug or alcohol problems. There may be a history of physical or sexual assault. Runaways may participate in "survival sex" to obtain money for subsistence, and when compounded by immaturity and poor sexual decision-making, a child's vulnerability to traffickers increases.
The Campus Coalition against Trafficking said that pimps can earn up to $632,000 per year by selling four young women or children.

There are many ways a trafficker can control and enslave a victim. According to the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services, control is achieved by confinement or physical restraint (both threatened and actual) and frequent moves from city to city, often across state lines. Victims may be isolated from other people, made to feel fear, shame or self-blame. Traffickers may use or threaten reprisals to the victim or her family. They may make false promises or give misinformation. Frequent beatings, slapping or rape create traumatic bondage. Victims may even form an emotional attachment to their captors due to repeated stress or a need to survive.

When trafficked children or adolescents are brought to the police, Catholic Charities USA said courts often discharge them right back to the pimp, to the family they ran away from, or to foster homes, from which they bolt as they are usually too damaged to adjust. It can be a vicious circle.

Childs offered several other reasons sex trafficking victims don't leave their pimps: they lack money and identification, they may distrust law enforcement or service agencies, and 95 percent or more are dealing with drug addiction issues. Most often control is gained through drug dependency.

Childs said, "These women and girls have been used over and over, trick after trick, day after day, year after year, arrest after arrest, high after high - until they become a bigger liability than an asset. . They become discarded cargo, dumped like trash in the streets, to survive the only way they know how. We need to let them know we are here to help before that happens."

"Each situation is vastly different," D'Agata Lynch said. "It's a complex issue. When someone is rescued, the justice department has to determine if the person is a victim, if coercion or physical threats have had a role in the situation. We are trying to educate and raise public awareness, and help the victims of trafficking. Once a victim is safe, if they request it, Catholic Charities can provide services within the scope of what we already offer: emergency assistance, counseling and case management. We have to learn more about identifying victims."

Ilene Shehan, chief operating officer of Hope House Battered Women's Shelter in Independence said, "People need to look under the surface, there may be something else going on."

D'Agata Lynch said, "Mail carriers have good instincts about what's happening on their routes. Perhaps a lot of coming and going at a particular house; that might be a big clue."
Shehan said people in northwest Missouri come face-to-face with victims every day, at dry cleaners or laundromats, fast food restaurants, factories and farms. "You never know, unless you look beneath the surface, if the young man or woman or the child you just saw is a forced labor or sex trafficking victim. We likewise don't want to think that a trafficker could be an acquaintance or a member of our community."

First and foremost, trafficking victims need safety and security. Catholic service organizations provide support services to both adults and children, including health and mental health services, employment services, English language training, housing assistance and other material assistance programs.

The federal government has continued to work toward eradicating human trafficking worldwide. This effort includes several federal agencies, including the Department of Justice and Health and Human Services. In 2006 approximately $28 million were appropriated for domestic programs to boost anti-trafficking law enforcement efforts, identify and protect victims, and raise awareness of trafficking.

The FBI and the Department of Justice Criminal Division work to combat child sexual exploitation through the "Innocence Lost" initiative which resulted this past year in 43
convictions.

Two presidents have signed into law Trafficking Victims Protection acts in 2000, 2003 and again in 2006. Twenty seven states have passed criminal anti-trafficking legislation. The departments of Justice and Health and Human Services have increased the number of anti-trafficking task forces, which partners state, local and federal law enforcement agencies with non-governmental organizations, to 42. In metropolitan Kansas City, the Coalition Against Human Trafficking, Catholic Charities, Veronica's Voice, Hope House, Rose Brooks and Synergy House in Missouri and Joyce Williams/Safe Home in Wyandotte County, in Kansas, plan through a federal grant to train doctors and nurses to identify domestic abuse and trafficking victims.

Under a Department of Justice grant, Shared Hope International is aligning with 10 newly funded Human Trafficking task forces across the country, including Independence, to better identify domestic victims of trafficking and provide them with needed resources. In October, a nine-week assessment of the Kansas City-Independence area will be launched, with a loaned employee of Veronica's Voice serving as an evaluator.

In May, the U.S. Justice Department announced that the Independence police department and Hope House were awarded 3-year grants of $450,000 each as part of the national Human Trafficking Rescue Project initiative to combat human trafficking. Hope House plans to use the grant to provide rescue and investigative services to victims, as well as certification of trafficking, Shehan said. Certification allows survivors to access all available services, programs and benefits, including medical treatment, food and rest, funds and resources.

"The grant and the rescue initiative together underscore the fact that domestic violence and human trafficking are not just legal issues or battered women's shelter issues, they are community and country issues," she said.

Jerry Young of the Kansas City-St. Joseph diocesan Human Rights Office said his staff has collaborated with city and state offices to raise awareness of human trafficking both here and elsewhere in the world. "We are helping to educate people and looking to make the burden of proof of trafficking less difficult for both victims and law enforcement. People have a right to freedom," Young said. "Freedom from exploitation and freedom of human dignity."

Summer Colds

2008-06-27T13:20:00.003-06:00

I really think that having a cold in summer is not justified. It's beautiful outside, my newly planted flowers are blooming and needing watering, and all I can do is sleep. It's perfect backyard Bar-b-q weather, and I can't breathe out of my left nostril. Last night we sat outside to watch the lightning bugs and all I wanted to do was crawl up with some cats in my bed.

On the plus side - I actually work at a plce where taking a sick day isn't a gut-wrenching, guilt-inducing big deal. Hurrah!

words and art

2008-06-17T08:30:00.005-06:00

The Game:
a. Type your answer to each of the questions below into Flickr Search.
b. Using only the first page, pick an image.c. Copy and paste each of the URLs for the images into fd's mosaic maker.

The Questions:
1. What is your first name?
2. What is your favorite food?
3. What high school did you go to?
4. What is your favorite color?
5. Who is your celebrity crush?
6. Favorite drink?
7. Dream vacation?
8. Favorite dessert?
9. What you want to be when you grow up?
10. What do you love most in life?
11. One word to describe you.
12. Your Flickr name.

My answers:
1. Emily
2. Pasta
3. North
4. Purple (right now)
5. Bono
6. Mimosa
7. Greece
8. Chocolate Molten Lava Cake
9. Healer
10. God's Grace
11. Trying
12. It's a secret

Stolen from my friend's(Knees-in-water) blog.

My bank account just got stimulated

2008-06-16T13:55:00.002-06:00

Yes, that's right. The money that President Bush paid me to be his friend (anybody remember that SNL skit? Anybody?) is in the bank account, and hanging out until I find the camera I am looking for an Ebay. I guess I am being a responsible citizen, stimulating the economy and all. All I can say about the other option (using the money for gassing up vehicles) sounded pretty sad once I figured that that amount of money would only hold out about 6 months. Bah. Humbug.

Two days ago

2008-06-03T13:24:00.001-06:00

I saw two St. Bernard puppies. I could still have sat on one of their backs and my feet would not have touched the floor.

That is all.

Variations on a theme (summer)

2008-06-02T15:48:00.003-06:00

For the past six summers of my life I have spent eleven to twelve weeks at a camp 45 min South of the city. I had either been in between years of school in college, or I had found an employer that worked with me on my schedule or let me off completely to work at camp.

My husband introduced me to camp, and the first summer I worked there we were just dating, and the summer after that, we went to camp for three weeks, got married, had our honeymoon, and came back and finished out the summer in the married cabins. My husband had camped there, teen-staffed there, and worked there off an on since he was in high school. The way he talked about camp . . . and the way he and his friends seemed to love it so much, I had to be a part of it.

I am not sure what to do with hot weather when I am not at camp. There is no snack shack with lemonade and ice cream, no waterslide, and no lovely thick, disgusting, chapel carpet. I think I'll have a bit of culture shock. My days will not be filled with quizmastering, setting up candles and taking them right back down, and making obnoxiously long and loud wake-up calls. On the other hand, I will never have to look at another taco night, never have to stand under the 'tower of power' being run into by 6'2" teenage boys, or make 15 gallons of pink lemonade every Tuesday night and pray that I don't spill it as we roll it to the sports center.

I guess all of this was just to say that it will be an adjustment to be at home in the city during the summer. I will probably be inside more. I will probably not be as tired. I will probably see my husband more.

But I will be a little sad when 11:15 rolls around everyday and I am not lighting candles and deciding what soothing music to put on for midday.

Those are mimosas . . .

2008-05-26T15:59:00.003-06:00

. . . My favorite drink of the summer.

And while you're thinking about Mimosas, mosey on over to a blog I contrubute to, along with my sister-in-law Becca, entitled 'Dear Sir, Ma'am, or Entity Unlikely to Respond.' We loved Timothy McSweeney's 'Letters to Entities that are Unlikely to Respond', so we are writing our own. They may or may not be funny, I leave that up to you. You can find a link over there on the right hand side, or just go here:

www.dearsirormaam.blogspot.com

editing = not my forte

2008-05-19T14:15:00.002-06:00

You may realize while reading that I make a lot of typos, yet I graduated with a degree in English. I go back and read entries and find mistakes often, but I am too lazy to fix them. I am not sure why, but I really really really hate reading abck ovr things once I have written them. Which explains how I manged to turn in a Midterm paper for my Shakespeare II class with half of it missing because I had run out of ink, and not gone back through to look at it after I printed. My instructor wrote a note that said: "With what I can read, it seem like it could be a good argument....however, the situation remains foggy at best."

Walgreens - a hotbed of crazy

2008-05-14T15:23:00.002-06:00

I love going to Walgreens. Love, love, love it. Yesterday, I was having one of those 'everything annoys me' type of days. So instead of deciding to get some icecream of chocolate, I went to Walgreens and told myself I could pick out a new lip gloss in order to make myself feel better. Not too expensive and not fattening at all. And -bonus- I had a prescription that I needed to get taken care of. Problem solved.

While I am at Walgreens wandering around looking at all the wonderful things there are there, I hear a woman yelling in to her phone and the conversation goes like this:

'NO! I'm not kidding you, they still haven't gotten your prescription ready! I know! They're like....inbreds or something. I mean, how long does it take to fill a prescription around here! Jesus H. Christ, it's like we're asking them to get all the chemicals and condense them into pill form while we wait! What's it take, a scientist?'

Well.....yes. Pretty much. A pharmacy tech. Thanks for asking.

Conversation number two between man and woman:

'Do we need a humidifier?'
'No, honey, we do not.'
'But it's on sale.'
'I see that.'
'Don't you feel like you're dry?'
'What do you mean?'
'You know, like your skin could glow a little more.'

Ouch. Not sure you wanna go there, Insulty McSulterson.

Number Three between pharmacy tech and man at counter.

'May I have your wife's birthday?'
'December 19th.'
*tech types in birthdate*
'Are you sure?'
'Yes, December 19'
'That's coming up as incorrect'
'But that's her birthday.'
'I've tried three times now, and it is denying me access.'
'Well, you have the wrong date. Her birthday is the 19.'
'Okay, let's try to pull up your file. Can I have your birthday?'
'December 19th.....oh.....wait.'

Walgreens: Dinner and a show!

This Week = The Best Week Ever?

2008-05-07T13:25:00.002-06:00

Two nights ago I was delighting in the sounds of Swell Season, and tonight, I will be sitting in box seats watching Wicked as it's national tour finally takes the stage here. This might just be one of the best weeks of my life, musically speaking.

Last nigh in Review

2008-05-06T11:06:00.001-06:00

Last night a wide variety of people and I were at the Uptown Theatre to revel in the goodness that is Swell Season. We sat in the balcony in the first four rows and had an excellent view of Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova as they entertained the crowd, told us funny stories about how a self-help book can ruin a relationship, and at one point insulted the people in the box seats.

Glen started out the concert unplugged and un-miked singing ‘Say it To Me Now’ which was just amazing, and I’ve never heard a concert audience reduced to such silence. Other highlights included Marketa singing a brand new song that she wasn’t sure was finished or not, but it was absolutely lovely. They also covered a Pixie song which I can’t remember the name of right now, but was about clothes and eyeliner.

They encouraged us to sing along with ‘Falling Slowly’ the song that recently won them an Oscar. About that time was the time he explained that he dropped the f-bomb so much because the Irish like to get back at the English for making them speak English by making it really, really profane English. ‘Lies’ was intense, and then they sand a song about how mix tapes are essential to relationships. "Drown Out' was beautiful, and "Star, Star' was sentimental without being mushy and cliche.

After their set, they came back and played an encore that was almost as long as the first set, including Marketa’s ‘If You Want Me’ and an ode to Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. Their Violin Player played an original song of his own which was also a highlight.

Anyway, they are truly a band where their recording is great but doesn’t do them justice. They are amazing live.

For Becca:

2008-05-01T22:12:00.002-06:00

The hilarious FourFour who recaps America's Next Top Model Put this picture on his blog on Tuesday. I think it sums up how I feel about Dominique.

Well...it's here

2008-04-29T08:50:00.002-06:00

It used to be that bug bites for me meant summer had started. Apparently, the bugs are starting earlier and earlier, because I received my first big huge bite on Saturday. So I guess now, itchiness heralds the arrival of Spring. Huzzah!

That poem was good...until you went all Thomas Kinkade on it's ass

2008-04-24T15:51:00.001-06:00

I am not sure why I love hotels so much, but I do. It started when I was a kid, because even then I have memories of being super excited whenever we stayed in a hotel. Maybe it was because if we were staying in a hotel it meant vacation, but I really think there’s more to it.

Hotels meant little cute soaps that have never been touched by anyone else. It’s a cozy space where bedtimes don’t apply, the air conditioner can be on full blast, cable TV for free, and you’re going out to eat or you’re eating continental breakfasts full of cherry turnovers and chocolate cake doughnuts. If you picked the right one, there’s a sweet pool and a hot tub. The TV is right at the foot of your bed, you can turn off all the lights without leaving your bed, and if you have to go to the bathroom – bonus!- it’s only three steps away!

Hotels mean you’re on an adventure, and likely pretty excited about it. Even now when I’m not such a little kid, I still am happy when I’m greeted by the sight of a perfectly tucked bed, a locked mini-fridge, and a coffee maker with individual sized coffee packs to brew.

I remember staying in hotels at Disneyworld when I was 9-10, and staying in hotels on the way to the Grand Canyon when I was 13-14. Then of course, there were the sweet cabin/hotel rooms/resort thing at Big Bear, the place we stayed in the summer whenever we went to Lake of the Ozarks. Big Bear was particularly awesome because for some reason when we were there, Sara and I got to stay in the bedroom, and Mom and Dad slept on the fold out sofa bed. Maybe the sofa bed was bigger, I don’t remember. What I do remember was the fact that Harry and the Henderson’s was always on TV, the bedspread in the bedroom was animal print, and the stairs around the dining room table were big huge cluncky things that has big brass furniture tacks in them. The chandelier was a big thing hung from the ceiling as well, and dark wood and brass fake candles, if I remember right. The whole thing, along with the fake wood paneling gave off a very renaissance dungeon feeling, but goodness, I loved that place. We didn’t have a boat, or jet skis or anything cool like that, but we could stay all day swimming in the lake practicing our back dives, floating on our life jackets, and fishing n the evening. I believe that we lost one fishing pole, one set of keys, a couple of flashlights, and various other things to that lake. We didn’t swim in the pool all that much, even though they had one, I mean come on, if it’s pool vs. lake, lake wins everytime! It’s amazing the things we did to amuse ourselves.

There was also a strip of arcades on the dam, and a candy store where you could buy a bouquet of maybe 15-20 tootsie roll pops for a dollar or something obscene like that. That store also honored the ‘Indian shooting a star rule’ and would give you free ones if you turned the wrapper in. I love Skeet ball, and we played it all day. The dam was great because you could cuss while you were there. ‘Is that the dam tower?’ ‘Where’s the dam taco shell company?’ “Hey Sara, move that dam rock!’ That’s pretty rebellious when you are a kid.

All in all, I’m sure that everyone has a spot that really truly represents happiness to them. I think the lake was one of those places, and somehow it came to symbolize all the joy and carelessness and happiness that comes along with childhood.

I really thought this was all about hotels, because I stayed at one recently, and I was going to describe it and all it’s weird quirks, but somehow it just turned into some sort of sentimental walk through Lake of the Ozarks, which I guess just means that I myself am feeling a little sentimental. But not in a Thomas Kinkade-pretty-cottages-and-flowers-kind of way.

(I had a poetry teacher once who hated Thomas Kinkade. So therefore everything that was flowery and clichéd and boring became Thomas Kinkade. As in ‘That poem was good, until you went all Thomas Kinkade on it’s ass in that third stanza.’) (and now I'v found my new favorite quote, and the title for this entry.)

Sometimes I hate blogging, because I can’t get myself out of the ‘intro, three paragraph, conclusion’ formula. And I feel guilty when I don’t have a conclusion.

So no conclusion today suckers, I gotta kick my English major habits.

Things that add up to an entire entry

2008-04-21T12:46:00.003-06:00

So a full time job and full time school makes one’s blog become stale….
There were so many things that at I wanted to check in and write about, like:

1. Going to the book store last Wednesday and finding a book called ‘Becoming a millionaire: God’s way’ I kid you not. I always knew the prosperity Gospel was out there, heck, I see Joel Osteen on the TV all the time just like the next guy. It’s just that is wasn’t even disguised as anything but a smack-you-in-the-face ‘God wants us to drive better cars than other people’ Book. Really? Really.

2. The elevator is where most people bitch about their jobs.

3. We now have a lilac bush in our yard by the driveway, petunias in a hanging pot out back, begonias in the front, impatients in the front and the back, and peonies planted out back. It’s going to smell so good around here! I am most excited about the peonies, because that’s what we had all over our yard when I was little. Ben is most excited about the lilac plant because they had one outside his house when he was growing up. When we were on our way home I said ‘Awww, look, Ben, we’re blending our families horticulturally!’ He was amused.

4. I have a real honest to goodness salaried job.

5. My grandmother passed away on Saturday from pancreatic cancer and a little bit of plain old age. I do not know what to write about this yet.

Reality TV actually makes sense for two seconds...

2008-04-09T19:29:00.003-06:00

'So I want to ask, will we be the generation that eradicates injustice for the poor? Or will we continue to let our voice be silenced?'

-Alicia Keys,

Tonight on 'American Idol:Idol Gives Back'

People that startle me

2008-04-09T12:54:00.003-06:00

There's this guy who works in the office I work with. technically, we work for two different companies, but we are housed in the same building. He doesn't live in this state, he flies in every week from somewhere else. And he's the only guy consistently at our office.

We wouldn't have to intereact at all, and we really don't except my desk is in the front of the office, by the door. I think he feels obligated to say 'hello' and 'goodbye' everytime he comes and goes. That is the extent of our conversation.

However, the man walks around the office like he is hunting a snake that has severely pissed him off, and he's going to do that snake in as soon as he catches up with it. Fast, stomping, head down, arms swingin' away.

Everytime I hear him coming up behind me, it makes me jump. Stomp, stomp, stomp...... *open door* Stomp, stomp stomp........*door slams closed*

Roch Chalk, Jayhawk!

2008-04-07T22:10:00.001-06:00

Go KU!!!

I started my new job today

2008-03-31T17:56:00.000-06:00

And it was so much better than the frickin' spa.

Please watch this.....It might just rock your world.

2008-03-28T10:56:00.002-06:00

From the Oxygen Network website:

Sex Workers or Victims?
Join us and stand up for girls. -->

Premieres on OxygenSunday, March 30 98C

The sex trafficking epidemic has inspired federal legislation to protect young women who are trafficked from other countries. But what about the thousands of young American girls who are coerced into the commercial sex industry each year? In the eyes of the law, these sexually exploited children are criminal sex workers. Lisa Ling investigates this issue, speaking with current and former child prostitutes, riding along with law enforcement officers, and exploring innovative programs that offer young prostitutes a chance at a better life.

I wish it was.....but today is only 45 degrees.

2008-03-27T11:59:00.002-06:00

I found this picture while browsing cuteoverload.com. It took many sheep, some very carefully spread feed, three border collies, and one very bored but creative farmer.

March Madness means something else entirely

2008-03-24T17:25:00.002-06:00

'I once thought I had mono for an entire year. Turns out, I was just really bored.'

-Garth, 'Wayne's World'

If I don't get to start my job soon, I might just go crazy. Today, I cleaned, watched TV, googled very pointless things, watched a cat outside, and took a nap.

Sim-mah down now...

2008-03-20T23:09:00.002-06:00

I'm usually not as mean as I was in my last post. I usually don't call kids brats. I just get a little fiery from time to time. But it's not a slow, smoldering campfire, it's usually like a firework, or a quick blaze that dies down fast. Ask Ben!

So, on a lighter note, Target now carries the the Bumble and Bumble line of hair care and styling products! Whoopee!

Parenting 101

2008-03-19T16:16:00.003-06:00

This is for the brats next door.

And since I've got kids on both sides, you'll never know which ones I'm talking about. Let's just say one set is, so far, funny, cute, and well looked after. One set is completely, one hundred percent, kids that I can't even handle. They are whiny. They are rude. And the one thing that I can't stand - I have seen both of the twits hit their dog. Repeatedly. With sticks. Once, I was outside , and I saw the boy hit his dog. I said 'Don't hit your dog with a stick. That's not very nice.' he said 'But she was jumpin' on me.' I say, 'She's just very excited to see you, and you'll have to train her to not jump up so much. She loves you, and she's playing. When you hit her with sticks, you're not playing, you're trying to hurt her.' He rolls his eyes and whines some more. I have no reinforcement on the issue because mom and dad are never outside with the kids. The kids are there by themselves. They haven't had the dog for very long. It was a new acquisition when they got the house. And not once have I seen the parents come out with the kids and watch how them and their animals interact. And they're outside animals, for sure.

So here's the moral, if you are a parent, and you have animals and kids, you have to SUPERVISE them when they are together. Here's why:

a) The animal could be not trained yet and over-boisterous, or could be aggressive towards kids. You don't know unless you are there, observing them. The animal could be mean, and most likely needs to be trained. Or:

b) You could have psycho boy, like the boy next door who hits said animal with sticks, or his hands, or other things he can throw, and you need to teach that effing brat to be nice to animals.

That is all. Thank you.

polaroids

2008-03-14T11:45:00.004-06:00

I found these two pictures a year or two ago while digging through boxes and boxes of pictures, trying to organize them for my mother. The one of my grandmother and grandfather is before my time, but is still my favorite of them. The one of just my grandmother alone is how I think of her. I'd like to think because of the angle, that it was taken by either my sister or me on our old Polaroid camera. Of course, for selfish reasons, I'd really like to believe it was me, but I'll probably never be able to really know.

But that's my grandmother - happy, windblown, outdoors on a hot summer day, smiling. It may not be the best quality - But I still think it's the best one I've found.

Love all around.

Free books - the best chain letter I have ever gotten or an incognito pyramid scheme

2008-03-10T23:16:00.003-06:00

When I was in elementary school, chainletters were the big deal. Heck, you could totally make them up and sucker your friends into sending them via classroom noteseeking. Just write something like 'Send this to six other people or that groos kid vincent will ask you out!' I got them all the time. I hated them.

I have never sent on a chain letter in my life. I have never forwarded a chain email, either. I kind of feel like maybe it's my rebellious nature, you know? 'Send this to six other people, my ass! Where's the delete button?' I can't be that person. I just can't.

However, about two weeks ago, I got a letter from one of my mother's friends stating that it was a informal book club chain letter. I sent a book I din't want anymore to the address on the bottom of the letter. Then I sent out a letter to six of my friends with another address and so on. So at first I totally walk this letter over to the trash and start to throw it away when I realize.....FREE BOOKS.

I kind of like to read. A lot. All the time. More than TV, the internet, or the Wii. I will take long baths with my books in hand. I will stay up until all hours of the night to finish a chapter or a book. When I was a kid my mother banned me from reading books at the dinner table. When I had a crappy college class that required attendance, I would hide a novel in a different cover and read. In elementart school the days we had read-ins were heaven. In high school, Sustained Silent Reading? Don't mind if I do!!

In my hand I had my very own golden ticket. A chance for 36 books free! With no library fines attached. I think I ight have actually drooled a little bit.

I couldn't say no. Books are like crack to me people, excpet way more educational, and cheaper.

I sent my book, and my letters, and have recieved three books in the mail as of today.

I am almost giddy.

Ollie in the back, Opal in the front.

2008-03-03T19:35:00.000-06:00

Another list of things I like about having a house

2008-03-01T13:55:00.002-06:00

1. Coming home from a late night and closing up the house, checking to make sure things are locked, turning down the thermostat.

2. Stepping outside on the back deck in my pajamas to check the temperature.

3. Opening up all the curtains every morning to let the sun in.

4. Laundering anything I want at anytime I want.

5. Making lovely things to eat, like truffles, because the kitchen has enough prep room, and the fridge has enough storage.

6. Cleaning wood floors and wood doorways.

7. Watching my cats run from room to room, sliding on the floors, and running into walls.

6:45 am

2008-02-27T12:28:00.002-06:00

That would be the time that the construction workers started gutting the house next door that was ravaged by a fire in December. I was a tad upset to be awakened by the pounding and the drilling and all the other sounds that accompany demolishing the inside of a house, but whay could I do?

I made a new blog header...and yes, those are cookies.

in progress

2008-02-25T13:33:00.002-06:00

Where the heck did my blog header picture go?

I am not old, I am not old, I am not old.....

2008-02-23T21:56:00.002-06:00

Last night one of my friends had the great idea of going roller skating for her birthday. Mind you, we are all above the age of 22, and I myself am 26. Roller skating with a bunch of people your own age? Probably a fun idea. Roller skating with five other people your age and then 200 elementary school and middle school kids? We should've ran for our life when we couldn't get the lockers to work.

Don't get me wrong, while the sight of teens and tweens roller skating after each other and munching on giant pickles was endearing for almost a full second, it was the smell of sweaty boys mixed with the sickly sweet stench of too much girly perfume that really took me back.

They stood around, strictly divided by gender, a gaggle of girls not more than 5 feet away from the groups of boys that caught their interest. Every once in a while a lone being would dart out on some covert-op to tell so-and-so in the boys group that so-and-so in the girls group liked them, and would they couple skate with them? And then race back giggling and squeaking to their friend to report the results. There were, perhaps, an oddball or two that actually sat next to a person of the opposite sex, and even *gasp* held hands or talked.

My friends and I skated for about an hour, and that was all we needed to fulfill out 6 dollars and 50 cents worth of good times we paid for. And then we hightailed it out of there because we could, we were probably the only ones who had driven ourselves to the skating rink in the first place. And we were definitely the only ones who could go out for drinks afterwards, to laugh about how we had been called 'old people' by a kid with an awesome mullet.

I'm not saying I didn't have a good time, because I did. I haven't laughed that hard for that long in really quite a while. I'm just saying I've had my fill and don't need to go roller skating again for another 8-10 years.

shameless self-promotion

2008-02-18T18:12:00.002-06:00

Check out our (newly updated!)website:

www.bephotography.org

It's what Ben and I do sometimes. And hopefully, more often. So if you know anyone in our area in need of a wedding photographer, send them our way!

And the link is always in my sidebar.

Back to your normally scheduled internet perusing.

Week One

2008-02-16T14:13:00.003-06:00

It's week one without a paycheck from my side. I only freaked out semi-ridiculously one Wednesday when there was nothing to deposit. I think it's because I used up all my crazy the Saturday before when we did our taxes and were presented with the results. I've never really known the meaning of the word 'unconsolable' since I've been married to Ben, but I was truly ugly on Saturday. Snot running down my face, incoherent, I need more than just a couple of kleenexes ugly. I mean really, I'm surprised Ben can look at me after that business.

So when I start to feel a little lost, I just think, ' I would rather be here and a little lost than in that horrible spa with those horrible people turning into a horrible me.'

Also, school helps. I am so so glad that the timing worked out and I can throw myself into school.

Did I tell you I am going to massage therapy school?

A wrap up of January and Half of February, Bridget Jones Style.

2008-02-10T16:45:00.000-06:00

Feb 10 --

number of jobs quit - 1
number of bosses told that they were unethical, lying, deceitful, manipulative people who no one wanted to be around(in a letter) - 2
number of breakdowns since job was quit - 2
number of Saturdays spent sleeping in gloriously instead of going to work - 1
number of other employees who congratulated me on quitting - all 12 of them

number of times I have said "I hate the tax season" in the past 24 hours - 4,567

number of students in our household as of last week: 1 (me!)
number of students in our household going to massage therapy school - 1
number of years I have been thinking about said schooling and job - roughly one year
number of bachelor degrees I already have and already feel guilty about not using to their full potential - 1 (Hi, ESU education department!!)

number of times I have ever caucused in my life: 1
number of times I have caucused and stood in line in the sleet and snow for a hour, nearly losing my toes and my cheeks, until a blessed woman came and gave us hot cholcolate form McDonalds, because the state of Kansas expected 500 people and got about 5000, but I stood in line simply because we believed in what was happening - 1

This is Ollie:

2008-02-01T16:49:00.000-06:00

Ollie can now flush the toilet, and has proceeded to do so about every hour on the hour.

To add insult to injury

2008-01-25T12:51:00.000-06:00

My ipod is dead.

RIP, little buddy.

We don't talk around here, we write notes.

2008-01-24T00:12:00.000-06:00

Today I went to work and like everyday spen the first hour in the back, doing laundry, washing dishes, mentally preparing myself for the onslaught to come, you know, the usual.

I went up front to relieve a coworker so she could go to lunch. I sit down, get myself situated, and click on the lovely firefox icon, because I'm going to check my email.

The funniest thing happened. . . . Nothing.

I got an error message, and then the pop-up screen that said 'this site is blocked. Please type in your password to view the site.' I try several different sites with the same result, we have been blocked off the entire internet. I look at co-worker number one, who is on her way to lunch. She raises her hands at me shrugs her shoulders and says 'Yes, I know, don't even try, it's all off-limits.'

My jaw is on the floor. I look at co-worker #2 she nods in agreement and ever so slightly mouths the words 'I hate this place' to me and turns back to her desk.

After a full and exhaustive effort (type web address, hit enter, get pop-up screen saying I am blocked, hit cancel, repeat) We got nothing. No websites work except our very own site. Not even weather.com. I ask you, how threatening is weather.com?

Problem #1 with this:

We're not corporate. We're not big business. We're a small, locally owned, we have three people who work the front area on two computers. We have vast amounts of down-time. Time where there literally is nothing else to do, we are stuck at the desk. Up front we are checking people in and out, and scheduling appointments. We can be really busy for 15 minutes and then lag for an hour. All the receptionists are women my age or older, who i have never ever witnessed being unprofessional with the computer. No sound, no downloading games, no porn. Mostly I see email checking and facebook. Co-worker #1 is a mom who uses the computer to monitor her son's health while he's at school, because he has a few little things she needs to stay on top of. Every once in a while someone gets on icanhascheezburger.com, to have ourselves a good laugh. We were not abusing the interent, nor were we behaving unprofessionally, and had never been told by the spa director otherwise.

Problem #2 with this:

I am supposedly a frickin' manager at this place. I was not told about any of this until I could not get on the internet today. I had to go ask the Spa Director to come log me on because my computer froze, I had to restart and had to log back onto Citrix. This required interent access and after I went, got the director, LOOKED THE OTHER WAY while she typed the password, she walked back to her office not a word to me about any new changes. We fire and hire people, we sell new things, move inventory around, heck, even block the internet with NO MEMO to the manager? What kind of communication is this? Oh right.....it's not.

I find great amusement in telling everybody that my husband's students in high school have more freedom on the internet than I do.

So what did I do today? A lot of staring at the wall. I got up and looked out the window. I doodled. I thought about the book that I would bring tomorrow. I made a list of all the things I could have done had I had internet access. I sipped on water.

Maybe tomorrow I'll get an email about it.

This is why I don't teach right now. And also, why I fear for my husband's job at times.

2008-01-21T17:40:00.000-06:00

Schools' report cards anger NYC parents
By KAREN MATTHEWS, Associated Press WriterMon Jan 21, 2:14 PM ET

Thanks to heavy parent involvement and high test scores, Public School 321 in Park Slope, a yuppie neighborhood in Brooklyn, is considered a gem of New York City's public school system.
In the eyes of New York's Department of Education, however, P.S. 321 deserved just a B in the city's first-ever school report cards, which are based largely on how students score on standardized tests.

Such accountability efforts — widespread since the advent of the federal No Child Left Behind Act — have raised the hackles of parents and educators across the country, who fault the methodology and question the wisdom of tying test results to the job safety of teachers and principals.

Now parents in the nation's largest school system are voicing similar concerns about the grades, released in November as part of Mayor Michael Bloomberg's push to turn around underperforming schools.

"It really saddens me that this is how the Department of Education thinks that parents are best served, by boiling everything that happens in an entire school to a letter grade," said Lee Solomon, the mother of a first-grader at the Brooklyn New School, a sought-after school that accepts students only by lottery but got a C.

Educators have debated the push toward testing since No Child Left Behind was enacted in 2002 at President Bush's urging. While some studies show that student achievement in reading and math has increased, teachers complain that they are forced to teach to the tests and to give up "frills" like music, art and recess.

A 2006 survey by the Washington-based Center on Education Policy found that since the passage of the federal law, 71 percent of the nation's 15,000 school districts had reduced the hours of instructional time spent on history, music and and other subjects to open up more time for reading and math.

Jim Devor, the father of a fifth-grader at P.S. 58 in Brooklyn — which got a D on its report card_ said students there were "strongly invited" to attend Saturday test-prep sessions but have no time to discuss current events like the presidential campaign.
"I'm appalled at how little my child knows about social studies," he said. "They're all obsessed with test prep."

Bloomberg, who is considering an independent presidential run, won mayoral control of schools in 2002 and has sought to make education reform a key part of his legacy.
James Liebman, chief accountability officer for New York City schools, devised the grading system for the city's 1.1 million-pupil school system.

Liebman said standardized tests are a good measure of whether students have learned what they should know.

"If children can't read and they can't do math, then the educational system and their school have failed them," he said.

For New York's middle and elementary schools, 85 percent of the grade is based on performance on standardized tests, while high schools are judged on graduation rates, New York State Regents exam scores and other factors.

The school letter grades are based on a complex formula that tracks students' test scores from year to year and measures each school against the system as a whole and against schools that are demographically similar.

A school with few pupils performing at grade level can get an A if its test scores improve, while a school where virtually all the students are reading, writing and calculating at grade level can get a C if its scores slip.

If a school gets a low grade two years in a row and scores poorly on a performance review, the principal's job may be be at risk.

Critics complain that Liebman, the system's architect, is a law professor with no background in education.

"All of their ideas are business ideas," said Diane Ravitch, an education historian and former assistant U.S. secretary of education. "It's about incentives and punishment. Those are not educational ideas."

But those critics apparently are in the minority. Liebman pointed to a Quinnipiac University poll in which voters said the grades were fair by a margin of 61 to 27 percent.
"It's a system to provide information to parents to make their own judgments," he said.
Not all parents believe it's helpful.

State Assemblyman Mark Weprin, a Democrat and a public school parent, said he worked to secure funding for a theater program but schools in his Queens district didn't want it between January and March because they're busy with test prep.

"This is hurting my son's education," he said. "It's all based on the faulty premise that school tests are measuring what kids are learning."

NBC=No Better Chumps?

2008-01-16T13:34:00.000-06:00

The execs at NBC ought to be fired for making me watch Billy Bush announce the Golden Globes last Sunday. I mean really, compared to him, Nancy O'Dell looks like frickin' Isaac Newton.

Whoever told him he could do a little commentary (without any writers helping him) in between the nominees should also be sat in front of a TV showing that fiasco of an hour on loop so they can know just what kind of a major tool they put on TV.

Food- Sometimes it CAN make you feel better

2008-01-09T14:15:00.000-06:00

Last night When I got home, my sister-in-law and my brother-in-law, Becca and Joey, had made delicious baked apple dumplings. I am not kidding, these things were delectable. They were, in the words of Will Ferrell/James Lipton, 'scrumptulescent'.

And today, my dear friend Rachel who works with me, and feels every ounce of 'uck' I do about the job, brought me a decaf mocha. She knew it was decaf because she made it at Starbucks and brought it with her.

And then I coudn't even drink the coffee I had bought.

2008-01-08T14:15:00.000-06:00

This past week has been frustrating to say the least.

No really, that's the very least I could say about it. If I wanted to say more, I could call it absolutely exhausting, ridiculously hard, or even throw in some made up words like re-donk-ulous, cringe-tastic. Or just go the VH1 route and call it the worst week ever. Take your pick. Any way you slice it, I'm ready to move on.

It's mostly at work, and it's mostly things I have no control over. Things like other people's greed, and shiesty-ness. (I love to use that word but am not sure how to spell it. Shiesty? Sheisty? Does the 'i' before 'e' rule apply in made up words?)

Anyway, A lot of this week has required literally pumpimg myslef up to go to work. Giving myself little pep-talks in the car in the parking lot and pretending that it's normal. Buying myself little treats when I make it through a day. And lots of kitteh-snorgling when I get home at night. Because who can feel bad whan you've got Kitteh faces to love?

I guess my problem is I just don't think people should dislike their job. Or hate their job. Or take out their aggression on Monday, which is just another day of the week. I kind of loathe the fact that I have to have a job, any job at all, to make money. I can't stop and say 'You know what? This isn't fun anymore, so....I'm out.' We just don't live that way. I have to pay AT&T for the phone, KCPL for the heat, and Time Warner for cable and internet access that allows me to put off other more important things. I can't stop and find something I actually like at t the moemnt. Which is harsh, because when excatly do we get to do that? When in my life do I get to sit down, find out what I want and do it? I already blew my chance in college....and got a degree I'm still trying to figure out how to use. Or if I will get to use it all. It didn't neccessarily pay for me to go after what I wanted in college. I'm still stuck in an hourly wage job, desperately seeking something else.

***Warning: This little daily piece of writing has becoem a little more about my pathetic job and my sad state of affairs than I wanted it to be originally. Continue at your own risk.***

I think when you grow up, you learn lessons you donr wnat to learn, and the one I am learning lately is no matter how hard you try to fight it, your job defines you. When you meet someone you say 'I'm so-and-so and I do____' It would probably be a better representation if I said 'Hey, I'm Emily and I love my husband, making mosaics, and various shades of the color green'. Really. That's way more who I am than my job at this point in my life.

so to come full circle and actually make reference to the name of this entry, yesterday certain things would not be at work (i.e. people ) and so I knew the day would be much better. I bought myself a chocolate muffin and a turtle mocha to pep things up even more. It was going to be a great day.

Except.

I didn't check and they didn't have the convenient little sticker on top that said it was decaf. I say convenienet because that really helps OCD people like me have some reassurance that there will be no shakes-inducing caffeine in their beverage. So I had to throw it out on the off chance it was going to make me sick.

So it was only a slightly better than average day, which is what you get when you rely on food to make you feel better.

Happy New Years

2008-01-01T15:14:00.000-06:00

There was no way Opal was actually putting the tiara on. We may or may not have actually tried. Several times.

Peace to you an yours this year!!

I have great dreams, #2

2007-12-29T13:36:00.000-06:00

Last night I had a dream I went on a date with Jay-Z.

That's right, Jay-Z.

I don't even really like him.

I have great dreams

2007-12-26T23:41:00.000-06:00

Last night I dreamt that I was a freelance writer. I was doing a piece on comfortable shoes, and inserts that would make uncomfortable shoes easier to wear. I had to keep trying on so many different kinds of shoes, flip-flops, fancy sandals, tennies, and boots. Turns out, in my dream the ugly clunky heeled boots were the most comfortable, so I had to write an entire article about these ugly, awful, clunky, black boots.

It's a new banner

2007-12-18T02:03:00.000-06:00

I added a little banner up top there, for an organization that I whole-heartedly support.

STOP THE TRAFFIK is a campaign working to combat the fastest growing global crime, people trafficking—the buying & selling of people around the world today

--Exposing people trafficking
--Leading governments to action
--Unlocking freedom

STOP THE TRAFFIK is a global coalition of over 800 organisations in more than 50 countries working together in areas of advocacy, education and fundraising.

Education: Creating awareness and understanding of people trafficking.
Advocacy: Inspiring you to become an Advocate for change, through getting involved and making a difference. Engaging with those who have the power to minimise the trafficking of people.
Fundraising: Financing anti-trafficking work around the world working with those vulnerable to and those who have been trafficked.

STOP THE TRAFFIK is a movement of people from different nations and generations. Some of us sign petitions, wear symbols of the campaign, spread the message, and some of us show our support through adapting our lifestyles.

We believe that when people act things change

Icing on the . . .ground (clever, I know)

2007-12-11T21:37:00.000-06:00

I can skate down the sidewalk with no ice skates on.

2007-12-10T23:08:00.000-06:00

It's icy out there! We started getting freezing rain at about 6:00pm, and it's supposed to continue for 24 hours, and then go into a wintry mix.

The good thing is I don't have to work tomorrow due to weird circumstances, and my husbands school district just announced no school tomorrow! A whole day off together, iced in, snoozin' around with the cats.

Right now we have lit a bunch of candles, and have the Christmas tree on and that's it. It's lovely and cozy and perfectly wintry. And while I would curse it aloud if I had to get out in it tomorrow, I will enjoy tomorrow, and i hope everybody stays safe out there.

Snow!

2007-12-06T14:44:00.000-06:00

That's right ladies and gents, it's the first substantial snow of the season here in KC.

Which brings me to my post for today that is entitled:

'What your high school kid is not wearing while walking home from school in the snow'

Hat
Coat
Scarf
Gloves
Long pants
Earmuffs
Appropriate shoes

(On my way to work if I take the backroads I go by a local high school right as they are letting out)

Here's what's on the menu so far for Christmas Dinner at my house. Provided, of course, I can make everything. I've got some pretty ambitious recipes I've decided to try. I will make the Souffles and the cake at least once before Christmas. Whatever I decided the main course is, I'll probably try that one a couple times.

Individual sized Sweet Potato casseroles
Goat Cheese Souffles
Wild Mushroom stuffing
(insert main course of some kind here)
Dried Cranberry and chocolate covered almond cake
Chocolate gingerbread cookies

I feel so grown up

2007-11-30T20:19:00.000-06:00

I have my own work email address.

Woot.

I got scrunchii-ed

2007-11-27T15:45:00.000-06:00

...But first I should explain what it menas to be scrunchii-ed.

The one and only time that my husband and I sat down and watched an episode of 'Sex in the City' together was one in which Carrie was dating a writer named Bergman. He had just completed his new novel and sent a copy to Carrie for her to read. When they got together the first thing she said was that the main character in his book would nevre wear a scrunchii, because she was from New York. Then she went on about how she loved the book, but because the first thing she had said was negative, Berger was upset. Since watching the episode, whenever Ben and I are excited to share something to tell something to the other one, we make sure to try to leave the negative critique until later. Or if we don't and we just blurt out the first thing that comes to mind, or our first argument with whatever said good news is, then we effectively have 'scrunchii-ed' each other.

Last night I worked really hard on this flyer of Christmas specials for work. The owner had given us the layout and the things she wanted on the flyer and someone had said 'Give it to Emily, she's creative, she'll make it look neat.' Well, I found a neat font online that was Christmas-y but readable, spaced out the flyer so it was easy to read, put the important parts in bold, and I was even cute with my wording. I mean, come one, I am an English major so I have to have some skills in writing, right?

So thenm after I had printed one out and left it on my supervisor's desk I come in today and there are flyers up, but they certainly aren't mine, and they certainly aren't as cute or as well-worded. And when I asked about it saying 'Oh...those are nice' I got full-on, hard-core scrunchii-ed:

'Well, your wasn't readable and it was too wordy and this just makes it simple I think, and no one is going to sit down and read that,and oh,.....yours was cute and would work well for a mailer....but these just were easier for the last minute shopper to understand.'

To which I cry 'Bull!'

And my feelings were hurt.

Silly, I know.

But man, mine was way better.

And I didn't scrunchii anyone in the process.