happiness gives me writers block

Maybe.

Insofar as teaching goes, I find it challenging. Sometimes I'm so frustrated that I cry, but it doesn't make me terribly unhappy. I think if I didn't want to be good at it then it wouldn't matter whether or not it was challenging. You really have to appreciate challenges if you want to grow as a person, I guess. Shut up. It's the only way I can think about it without wanting to give up on the whole institution of teaching and going for the first corporate job I can find.

My job is the biggest conflict in my life right now. Other than that and finances being tight on a paycheck to paycheck basis, life is just about perfect. At the very least, I have no reason to complain.

For my birthday my dad picked up a new pair of winter boots for me. Unfortunately they were too tight- I have wide feet, I guess. So we took them back and tried on the next size up, but they were just too big. While he was busy with something else, I tried on some new running shoes. We ended up getting those instead. Now I just have to wait for the weather to get warm on some days and I think I'll take some short jogs. I hate how my body feels when I don't get enough exercise. Of course, this hasn't stopped me from being lazy as a tree sloth for the last 4 months. My bikes are calling me, the running shoes beacon me, I hear my indoor soccer shoes whisper fantastic stories of ass kicking games every time I open my closet door, and my jerseys and soccer shorts remind me of playtime every time I catch sight of them. Then I look outside, wrap myself tighter in my blanket and snuggle down deeper into my futon with the fluffy pillows.

I'm going to digress and mumble about random things.
I guess that's what I've been doing, but I thought I'd just take a stand and let you know there is no serious point to these next paragraphs.

Westley downloaded Dane Cook's Retaliation and not only did I laugh my butt off, I was astounded. If you ever want to know how Shoe talks, listen to Dane Cook. They have completely different voices, but Shoe will say the same things in the same manner as Dane does. And they have similar attitudes toward annoying people. It's creepy. Maybe they know each other. ("If you ever turn around in my driveway again, I'll cut your f*ckin head off." Come on, Shoe, you know you'd totally say that.)

Is it just me or do the Silversun Pickups just sound heavenly?! I think I'm in love. Want. More. Now.

I'm glad winter solstice is past so the days can start getting longer. Then I can go outside and play. I don't know what it is about an all out sprint, but damn does it feel good. Just as good as it does to ride my ass off on the trails.

Mumbling over.
For Christmas I got Westley Guitar Hero 3 and a guitar controller. He hooked it up and he just loves it. He's an addict, and I wonder what I was thinking to create such a monster. A big orange hairy monster with gigantic black claws (but that has more to do with dream he had rather than his actual appearance). Anywho, it prompted some thought on my part. On a great topic such as this:

Wooing women throughout the 20th century.
1900-1920. Gentleman caller might take you out for a drive in his flashy new car (heat optional!) or a ride in his buggy.
1920-1940. A gentleman might take you dancing.
1940-1950. Think Fred Astaire singing to you and dancing you in to an astonished love smitten stupor. Bring on the sore feet!
1950-1960. Every guy wanted to be Elvis singing to his favorite hot chick. And they tried. Some died trying. Darwin, thank God you were right on this one. We're better off.
1960-1970. Free love. Wooing optional. My reply: Go shower. Now.
1970-1980. Three words: What's your sign? And my personal reply to that: Gag me with a spoon (and I'd be so ahead of my time!).
1980-1990. Picture John Cusack with his boom box blasting Peter Gabriel to Ione Skye. You wanted to be him, you know it. Or you wanted to be her. I did. (I don't care how old John Cusack gets, I will love him forever.)
1990-2000. I have no idea how to sum this one up. Not that impressive or even notable. Probably has something to do with meeting people in chat rooms. A/S/L?
2000-2010. He looks at you with a sly grin on his face, picks up his guitar controller and says, "this one's for you, baby," and proceeds to play you Talk Dirty To Me (as made famous by Poison) with only a few mistakes.

My personal reply to that? Raucous laughter.

I was half disgusted (as a hater of all songs that objectify women), but he knew that. Which is why it was pretty damn funny. Had it been something sweet (Dan Folgeberg-y or James Taylor) and flawless, I might have swooned. But since it's Guitar Hero, it's just not going to happen.

Anyway, thought I'd share.
Happy New Years!

you got some 'splainin to do.

Er, well, I do. There's been an extreme lack of posting on this blog. At least there is is to me. I've started writing about three different posts, and only one of them has made it to the screen and it felt as if it had nothing to do with anything current in my life. I don't know this writers block is just overload with school and life in general, or if it's the brain damage that's a result of school and life in general. Overload can be classified as brain damage, can't it? If that's the case, then I'm being redundant and therefore I should state that I do apparently have issues. Severe ones. Get some Jellybellys and call someone random STAT.

What's been going on lately? The birthday came and went without any major hitches. It was very nice, in fact. Movie-dinner-concert on Saturday (the day after, but who cares?) and a surprise visit from Westley the day of. He rescued me from a birthday night alone. But I was ready to make the best of it; the short and I went out for comfort food and to the toystore in town, and I was ready to go home, pop in an old movie and chill out. Then I heard a truck pull in the driveway.. And that was the beginning of an awesome evening. Black forest birthday cake. That's how awesome it was.

Christmas looks as if it's going to be nice; at least I won't be searching for places to go to distract myself from the incredible lack of family. I'm an only child, my dad's family is in Seattle, my mom's brother does things with his wife's family on Christmas day, my grandparents died a few years ago, their relatives live in Ohio and we're not that tight. Which leaves me and my mom to fend for ourselves. I go visit my dad and stepmom, her mom (who annoyingly refers to me as her other grand daughter, more on that later), my step siblings, their significant others, and my niece. But I feel guilty leaving my mom alone. I mean, my cat doesn't love anyone THAT much. And you can only watch A Christmas Story about 15 times before you start craving something a little less seasonal. (NADAFINGA!)

I'm not complaining; lots of people out there have less, and I realize that. But I wanted to give you an glimpse into my holiday happenings (or lack thereof). The best thing about Christmas these last few years has been watching the short tear into his presents. You know, I think I still wish I could get that excited about getting stuff. When I was a kid, it seemed very fulfilling to get a doll, a sled, skis, tapes, a keyboard, or whatever. The best Christmas I had as an adult was when my mom gave me an awesome set of knives, gardening tools, and an iTunes giftcard. It was fun because it set me off thinking about what I'd need to move out. I went downstairs and took inventory and made a list of all the things I had already and all I'd need in my own place. (I'm lame; I didn't move out of the house until I was 31. It would have been different had I decided to stay in Australia or if I hadn't come home pregnant, but then that's something else entirely.)

I *should* be solidifying lesson plans for tomorrow but the short just got out of his bath and is sitting in the hall buck naked playing with matchbox cars and base ten blocks. That's way too amusing. I wish I were that comfortable with the concept of Naked Time. But then he's a little hardbody and hasn't reached the stage where he starts getting concerned about it.. let's hope he never does. He has, however, lost a front tooth and then new one is coming in nicely. :)

We need to read and go to bed. I might stay up a little later just so I can make sure everything's all lined up for tomorrow.

Every school in this county either had a two hour delay or was closed today. I don't know why; we had a heck of snow storm this weekend, but we're all dug out now. I wonder if the windchill was below zero. They'll call school for that around here. And don't pull that "you're lucky to have a day off" crap; it's not all that awesome to sit here in my jammies and try to work out my classroom issues and find things to do like clean the house or make a meal. I might not have had to shower today but I also know that what waits for me tomorrow is a group of snow day crazed children who are tricky enough to teach anyway without snow days the week before winter break. On top of that, I'm already two weeks behind the language arts pacing guide (who the hell that happened, I have NO idea), and this just puts me further behind. And contrary to the rumors going around here, I DO like my job. It's a hell of a challenge, but I welcome it most days. I might cry about it others, but that's normal, and I get over it.

But it was nice to sleep in and take a nap and forget life's challenges for a while.

I'm off like a prom dress...
:)