Ahh. . . the Sweet Smell of French Fries

My nephew actually uttered this in the car on the way home from Red Robin one evening. Direct quote that my mother will bring up at his high school graduation, wedding, and whatever other time she can be embarrassing. Welcome to the family, Z! My "other brother darryl" evidently is opening three more restaurants in Miami, according to his website (see sidebar link). He was so annoyed by me this evening, critiquing said website, that he turned off his IM so I was just typing to air. His restaurant was featured on "Deco Drive", which I'm told is like Entertainment Tonight, but local and somehow he got filmed. So I'm waiting for this huge file to download of my brother on camera. (he didn't make the cut but they were nice enough to send him the clip?)

Although, I am not a television star (like J on the cutting room floor) . . . I am very sunburned. I edged some of my lawn, which has not been edged since the 1970's. Then I cut down some trees. My mother informs me that I cut them down WRONG and just made a mess but they are cut down, none the less. I like cutting down trees, or more clearly, thicket. Harold, the previous homeowner, was very depressed when his wife, Alice, passed away and proceeded to do NOTHING outdoors. No lawn maintenance, no weeding, no clipping or cutting. A weed that is left to it's own devices for thirty years becomes very big and sometimes becomes a tree. So that is what my backyard landscape is made up of . . . very large twenty to thirty foot weeds. I have four inch trees that grew up threw the chain-link fence so that the chain link is in the middle of the tree. It's a landscaper's nightmare.

Ahh . . . the sweet smell of french fries. Just focus on that. . .

The dead king

My nephew came over . . . brother needed to borrow the truck for the weekend. Took me out to Zumba for dinner, forgot how good and cheap that is. Z had all his books from his writing workshop in his backpack, so after we did some math homework, we read his books. He drew little Caldecott medals on the fronts. So much attention to detail, the illustrations are amazing. The best was "The Died King" (first grade spelling) which I will scan in as soon as I exchange the scanner. I wish I could draw half as well as this seven year old. He and I will have to go to CCS this summer for classes.

ack.

It's really sad that I can find out more about where I work from livejournal than from actually being at work. (I know, the dooce rule, but it will be short) The students are buzzing on their lj's and it won't be contained anytime soon.

Sadness and Snow

Alas, I will not be renewing eharmony . . . so there will be little to make fun of in the next week or so. I'm sure I will fill the emptyness with something else. No more ill thought out photos, no more profiles with five things that I probably so could live without. No more multiple choice questions. Sigh. The end of a very short era.

In other news, let the nephew play with the camera this weekend so will have some pictures to post as soon as I get around to digging the camera out of my purse. I am also toying with the idea of getting a summer job. Or taking some major classes. Maybe contracting. That way I could just build the garage myself. The possibilities are endless.

It's snowing here. The parents have, like, seven inches. I only have a dusting . . . not enough for a spring snow day. This makes NO snow days for the year and the kids will all be really, terribly, cranky tomorrow. I don't look forward to it. The snow at the 'rents was very pretty and, though it is April, was good to look at. That's what you get for living in Michigan.

Only person in MI

According to Mr. Crabbypants, I am the only person in Michigan that doesn't know that the Secretary of State's office does not take debit cards. The only person . . . in the whole state. No one else . . .

I think the Secretary of State SHOULD take whatever form of payment they can get. They should not be persnickety about payment methods, especially since I have to pay them ALOT of money (my fault, I could downsize to one vehicle but then the other vehicle would feel all abandoned and how do you choose?) and now I have to pay them on time. This is new. I always did mostly pay them on time, because I get pulled over all the time for crazy stuff, like having expired license tabs on my birthday (No, really officer, the tabs are in my purse. I just wanted to clean the plate off first. [holding stickers up]). Ah, the days when you could just save that cash until the end of the month because the tab said "April" and April had ten more days.

So now I have to go back to the Secretary of State with cash (or check, I suppose). Bugger.

Happy Lawnmower and Bats in the Moonlight

Very exciting! The lawnmower's oil is changed. The truck's oil is changed. The tires have been rotated. All is right with the world . . . except that I now will have to mow my lawn. I will mow my lawn tomorrow morning because I have bunches to do and I will wake up all my neighbors, the heathen set mainly because the rest will be at church. I will not be like Mr. Crabbypants and get up at the CRACK of dawn to mow (everyone everywhere is so glad he has a lawn service now) but I will be mowing in the 9 to 10 am area. I will probably only mow my front yard and maybe the side because my backyard still has giant holes and ruts from the "car getting stuck" incident, which we will not discuss at this time, because I just told my brother to read my blog. Since the holes are big enough to plant shrubs, I may, in fact, plant shrubs in them.

M is hopefully coming with me tomorrow to "great aunt wrangle" which will entail taking her to ice cream and confusing her with all the flavors for a time. This is so my parents and brother can move all of her things to a new apartment. Then M and I will just drop her off at the new apartment as if nothing happened. As if we are just taking the long way home. My great aunt, who is the sweetest, most wonderful woman in the world, inherited the paranoid gene and constantly thinks that people are stealing her things and replacing them with other similar but not quite the same, and certainly not as good things . . . because she knows her things and these things, well, they are not hers.

Keeping in mine that she is blind, can't walk, doesn't hear well and doesn't have anything to keep her mine occupied, I would probably think people were taking my bedspread too. If only to have something interesting to talk about. But tomorrow we are taking her bedspread and everything else. We are moving it to an apartment that is the same, but not quite the same . . . but does have a better view out the window. My great aunt has macular degeneration and can see in some spots, so the view is kinda important. This apartment is much, much closer to Stately Wayne Manor so it will be easier for my mother (my great aunt's only caretaker) to visit on a regular basis.

My father and brother pointed out that they have never met M (which I know that have . . . somewhere in the fourteen years) and are eager to meet her. I guess I'll have to take her to Stately Wayne Manor for the tour of the grounds. Saw a bat out there tonight. I could see through his wings in the moonlight. Very cool.

Perfect Card Carrying Geek

As it turns out, I'm a sucker for the "Dune" mini-series. I've read Dune by Frank Herbert at least four times though and the Sci-Fi channel did an excellent job of interpreting it. No Sting . . . but Paul Atreides is much cuter. This makes me a card-carrying geek . . . if they only had cards, but that would be too cool and FBI or superhero like. (in my own little mind - geek cards would be good for haircuts and money off boot cut jeans) I love a book that needs four Appendixes.

Someone today told me that she aspired to "be like me". She thinks I am "confident" and admires that "kick ass attitude" and I had to explain to her that it is mostly all a front. She was amazed that I don't party every night . . . as I was rebutting the "I wish I had your life" comment. She really doesn't wish that she has my life. Today I came home early (for me) because I refused to sit in the yearbook room, rotting and checking proofs, if there are no kids who care enough to show up. I did my taxes. I royally screwed up my taxes. I did my taxes again. I surfed the net. I watched "Friends" (an episode I hadn't seen . . . Rachel gets horny) and then I ate some leftover chili. (don't have a garbage disposal, have to eat the chili) Watched Dune and NCIS simultaneously. Watched Dune and Scrubs the same way. Now writing this blog. Yeah, I have a life to be envied.

Dancing Cats with Jessica Simpson

During this whole eharmony experience, there are two things that will make M close you out. Listen up, males of the blogosphere, anyone that mentions their cat or that they "enjoy dancing" is closed . . . with the curt checkbox "Based on statements made in this person's profile, I am not interested in this match." Today the nerdy eharmony demons matched me with someone who had both statements - can't live without his cat . . . loves to dance. CLOSE. Plus his profile said he was 33 and from his pictures he either posted pictures of his father or he was NOT 33. Maybe 33 plus 10 and then poking one eye and closing the other.

Now granted, males of the blogosphere, you are allowed to love your cat. I love Mr. Catman and I haven't ever touched him during his lifetime. You are allowed to shake your bootie . . . and enjoy every minute of it. You just shouldn't put them in your profile, cause you won't pick up wild and crazy girls like M and me. Under no circumstances should you lie about your age or post pictures of your father in the place of yourself. It makes for an awkward first date.

I know, I know, assuming that people would want to go out with M and I but we are kinda fun. And we can laugh about the concept of a cat in an eyepatch for, like, three hours intermittently.

As long as I'm on the subject of pictures - what is up with men and posting pictures? One would assume that the picture is supposed to reflect what you look like. The whole point is to see someone in person eventually. Yet some men have their senior high school picture, their ID picture from work, pictures with celebrities (Jessica Simpson, impressive), pictures with their girlfriend's cheek and arm still in it, pictures with the actual girlfriend (ex-girlfriend?) and lots and lots of men want me to see them running. Few people are attractive when running . . .

With the age of the digital camera, one would think that someone could take a current picture of themselves and slide it into eharmony. Come on guys, do it for all those families you want to raise! (they say that a lot on eharmony . . . with the cats and the dancing, it sets off the gaydar like mad)

You just woke up?

Mind you, I am thirtysomething. Yet my father calls this morning because he wants to gloat over a cheap price on a camera (fujifilm 5100 for 250.00 - good price if you want a 5100) and I'm all sleepy on the phone . . . because I WAS SLEEPING when he called. ". . . it's eleven o'clock for $%#@# sake." But I was up until three and that would be eight hours. We just talked about how I was having trouble going to bed yesterday as we were hurdling towards Wal-mart in that tiny race car of his. "Well, you get a watch and just go to bed at eleven." was his advice which I felt did not take into account my point that I wasn't tired at eleven. I can tell what time it is despite my lack of a timepiece. It's not like I don't know it's eleven o'clock . . . it's that I go to bed and stare at the ceiling. (actually the TV but that is a whole other issue) But this was the man who would insist I get out of bed at 7 am to "start the day" after I had worked 2nd and part of 3rd shift at the hot dog factory. He never did understand that I couldn't go to bed at 4am and then be excited about getting up at 7am. (heck, no matter what I do I'm never excited at 7am) I just have to be more "disciplined" about sleeping I guess.

You know . . . I could just NOT answer the phone.

See a picture of

muuhahahaha

Cat with an Eyepatch

Best thing heard today. Hilarious.

Daylight savings time saving me

Got distracted and didn't finish the proofs tonight . . . but it was super keen to get out of the yearbook room by 7pm while it was still light. More work for Monday. Plus the English 9 journals that I forgot to bring home. So good to goof off.

Nerdy eharmony demons confirming the conspiracy . . . or reaffirming. Another "request to communicate". I've stood firm in my sabbatical. Sorry John, but I'm working on the premise that people like to be treated with a certain aloofness and so I used the two day rule. Sorry to "Tim" too but one does not want to look too eager. (hee,hee, lecturing about "too eager" and yet subscribing to eharmony. Who am I kidding?) Maybe I should write things during mojito epiphanies more often but since I haven't looked at the profile either, everything could just end up spelled wrong . . . I ramble even when completely sober, so maybe I was brief and to the point.

Ugh, bad mexican food. Hate it. And also hate those restaurants that you always run into people you know . . . but don't really want to talk to.

Also I was a very bad example of a union member today. No marching after school, no marching on the way in (Starbucks had a long line), no marching at all. Now no one will vote for me for union rep. Sadness.

Nerdy eharmony demons

I so want to talk about work today. Must not spill. Must remember lessons of others. Want to leave on my own terms.

On the eharmony front . . . they must have a mole . . . or an implant in my head. I have vowed not to look at the eharmony site until Sunday. Had a two (large) mojito epiphany and decided that the whole "closed" thing sucked and that I would lay off for a week. No one had communicated . . . no one seemed that interesting, yet it pisses me off when you get that closed message before you even had a chance to look at their profiles. Of course, during this two mojito epiphany, I changed my profile too . . . I vaguely remember the revisions, but they were snotty. Eharmony sends you emails at the same time every day, notifying you of any matches, etc. Today I get one that someone wants to "communicate". I think the nerdy eharmony demon people somehow know I'm disgruntled and have sent this offering to get me back on the site. Either that or guys like snotty profiles.

I'll go and answer "John's" questions . . . just because I hated when I sent questions and no one responded. But listen nerdy eharmony demons, I won't look at any other profiles . . . you'll just have to get them all to communicate so I'll have to feel polite. It's the two day rule all over again but with a screen and a keyboard. The bar is much more fun . . . and has mojitos.

Nod and Smile

So at the "lunch" meeting I went to today the speaker asked who knew what a "tweener" was . . . he meant people my sister's age. However, if you look up tweener on urban dictionary, I don't think he got it right. Evidently, there was a Newsweek article on the subject. So the guy announced that I was probably a "tweener" and now reading the definitions I hope he meant that he thought I was in my twenties. Of course, because I cannot keep my mouth shut, I denied being a tweener (thank goodness, due to the link). So let me get this straight . . . someone thought vocally that you were in your twenties in front of a large group of people . . . and you don't just say thank you?

I must keep my mouth shut at meetings.
I must keep my mouth shut at meetings.
I must keep my mouth shut at meetings.

Oh, right, I didn't want to be a tweener anyhow.

As to not get dooced . . .

I have retracted my letter, as to not get dooced or upset anyone . . . since I was told who actually did leave the note yesterday. (Yes, I am talking in code. There was a post yesterday. It has been deleted. It was sorta, but not really, about work.)

A poor telemarketer from MSU got my wraith this evening, when calling and asking for money. I informed her that I was actively trying to send one of my students to MSU and that a professor there had told him NOT TO COME.

Now I understand that MSU is not the top photography school in the country. Hell, it doesn't even rate. But that is not what sending this kid up to the art school to talk to the photo prof was about. It was about the opportunities available at State. And the guy could have been more polite and at least looked at my students stuff. I know his print work has dust all over it . . . silverprinting is going dead, digital is where this student is at . . .

This dude blew my student off, which I suppose will prepare him for real life and MSU for that matter (I do remember having to be persistent). It didn't need to happen that way though and the kid now has a bad taste in his mouth.

So I told the poor girl that as soon as the art school at Michigan State got it's head straight, I would donate some money. I don't think I'll be reaching for my wallet anytime soon.

Dannon Yogurt would make it all okay

I have to go to work tomorrow. I may not sleep at all, which is not unusual for a night before I go back. I have to write a quiz on Great Expectations but can't do it until I get to school. I've already checked the email, so I won't have a meltdown in the morning . . . yet was smart enough (this time) not to open any emails that would upset me, piss me off, or otherwise not let me sleep.

It didn't help that I stayed in bed until 11, though really it was 10 if you think about it. I kept turning over, telling myself that this was the last day to sleep in, as if I will never have a weekend again. I didn't leave the house until 6 and that was only because there was nothing to eat . . . and my neighbors were making me feel guilty by doing yard work. Horrible renters doing the yard work! How dare they. Actually only one was doing yard work, the other was standing in the middle of the yard watching the raking and drinking what I assumed to be a cocktail.

I went to the mecca of Meijers and they had nothing I wanted again. I always forget. It only takes six months to fade from my memory banks that Meijers keeps nothing I desire in stock. Every six months I go there and am shocked to discover that they are completely out of Dannon yogurt. No Dannon (except coffee, but who wants coffee yogurt? I like anything coffee to be actual coffee). They didn't have the kind of vodka I wanted (I was inspired by the neighbor's cocktail), they only had gallons of light rum, they had no frozen yogurt (substitute for the Dannon), everyone there was either a cute couple (actually cute guy who turned out to be a couple, each time) or they were on a cell phone. It was awful. This is why I spend 25 cents more an item to go to Holiday Market. I did get cute little eight ounce bottles of Diet Coke and lots of strawberries because they were on sale.

My eyes now hurt . . . because I'm not wearing any corrective elements as I took my contacts out thinking that maybe I would get sleepy . . . the letters are all blurry and it's hard to spell when one cannot see. I guess I'll go watch A&E after I find some glasses.

Terrible loathing and the fear that I will not wake up on time. Ugh.

So I was wandering around the mall this evening, when to my horror, I heard a musak version of "This Charming Man" by the Smiths. WTF!?! How did this happen? It was sung by something (not Morissey) soothing but all the words were there . . . I could go out tonight, but I haven't got a stitch to wear . . . and I'm singing along involuntarily as my brain burns. I'm now old enough that my music, music that I spent hard earned - alphabetizing books at the library for 3.35 an hour - cash on, is playing at the local mall? What's next? The Clash?

In other I am older than dirt news, Hot Topic, the store that Noir leather was . . . but it's in malls all around the country serving suburban malcontents so they don't have to look to hard for things that will shock their mommies, is carrying baby clothes. Little onesies that have "Green Day" on them. It's bad enough that all the cool t-shirts are in a store that is inhabited entirely by twelve-year olds, they now have to market to people who have procreated? Thus making me feel bad that I have not yet found the man, without tattoos on his neck, that will put up with me putting his half of genetic material in a Green Day onesie? Since I know that Hot Topic has no interest in marketing to me, who are all these twelve-year olds with a need for punk baby clothes? (My brother J is now wincing, since Green Day is sooo not a punk band)

The actual reason for the mall trip was to go to the Hot Topic and buy this skull purse that I have my eye on . . . but the Hot Topic at Twelve Oaks is scrunchy and there is too much to look at and I decided that it depressed me so I didn't go in. I went to Talbot's instead and then bought some t-shirts at the Gap. When I found the skull purse at the other Hot Topic, near school, I asked M2 if it would be silly for me . . . 33 year old me . . . to walk around with a skull purse. M2 replied that it would be no sillier than that stupid hat that I wear. She's right . . . and the handles have bones on them so I have to have it. Picture of skull purse in case anyone would like to get it for me for my birthday, hint, hint.

As you can see, I have learned to link all sorts of things. It's kinda fun, the linking.

New Questions

I have some new questions for Eharmony . . . I'm sure the eharmony people will appreciate my help in this department.

Emily’s essential questions (inspired by the inane questions of eharmony)

Emily's answers are in purple

What kind of car do you drive? I have two - a Dakota and a Neon
Do you have any bumper stickers, paintings or car augmentations? If so, what are they? No. The neon has stripes but it came to me that way. I'm a teacher so bumper stickers help with identification = possibly keyed car/truck.
You’re going somewhere . . . what do you wear? What I have on.
Home Depot or Lowes? Tough question, depends on what I'm looking for . . . Home Depot for nuts and bolts stuff, Lowes is sometimes fancier especially in the organizational department. I spend more time at HD.
Do you trust that new cold water Tide? Not really. Could be regular everyday Tide in a different bottle.
What do you own on vinyl? Too much to list here. Hightlights: Bauhaus glow-in-the-dark Bela Lugosi's dead picture disk, Smiths, really old Ministry single, Shriekback - Oil and Gold
Apple or PC? Unfortunately, hooked on PC - I know it is not the industry standard but I like them.
Easter (or Christmas, Passover, etc) is a time when . . . The Easter bunny comes.
Where do they put the good clearance at Target? Back endcaps. Sometimes mixed in with normal stock.
Do you own any clothing that your mother would call "paint clothes"? Pretty much all of it.
If your DVR is broken, Alias or West Wing? Alias
When painting a room, tape or free-hand? Free-hand
Where do you buy house paint? Where do you pick out the colors? Always Sears brand and I pick out the colors from Home Depot, Ralph Lauren usually, but then I always bring it to Sears.
Pottery barn or Crate and Barrel? Crate and Barrel
When changing motor oil, what brand? Mobil One
How important is tire pressure? According to my father, the "tire savant" very important. Keep on top of it so he does not yell about tires. Also rotate them pretty regularly to also avoid the tire yelling.
What is your opinion about the state’s current motorcycle helmet law? If people want to crack their skulls on the pavement, I say let them . . . as long as I do not have to pay for them to live in a vegatative state. I personally will always wear a full face because I paid for some of the orthodontics.
When making a cast out of plaster, what is your preferred release or"non-stick" agent? 1st dishsoap, then vaseline - for people always vaseline
What does WTF mean? What the F&*k
How many pens do you have in the room you are sitting in? approximately 40, plus some car touch up paint, a tire gauge and a palm tire with monkey made out of pipe cleaners that I got with a drink once.
What is Utrecht? a kick bleep art supply store
When replacing an outlet, do you hot-wire or go turn off the circuit breaker? my brother hot wires them but he is better at it than I am, I get nervous so I turn off the circuit breaker. Evidently, if you don't touch the wires, you're good - but I'm not that good.
Sketchbooks – for sketches, notes or both? both
What would your screen icon be at this moment? One of the girls from Sin City or Godzilla
What is the most unusual thing in your living room? Handmade steel crown that I found in someone's yard while visiting New Orleans - vampire teeth in jar also from NOLA

Please comment if I should add any more . . .