I'm Nuts

As the note I left for my husband at 6:15 this morning declared, apparently I am nuts.

A few months ago, my husband and I saw a small teak stool to be used in a shower in a Tuesday Morning brochure. Having recently remodeled our tiny master bathroom, we thought this would be a nice addition to our beautiful, frameless glass shower...as well as an aid in shaving my legs in the shower.

We were Tuesday Morning novices. We were clueless. We went out in search of the shower stool a few days after the brochure arrived at our house.

Needless to say, we could find no remaining shower stools. A few months before that incident, we had seen luggage in the TM brochure. We foolishly went the following Tuesday evening. Yeah, no luggage left.

Last week I went to Tuesday Morning for a couple of items I'd seen in the latest TM brochure. But I couldn't find them at the three locations I went to. I was soooo sad. I'd lost at the Tuesday Morning game again. However, one of the clerks at the last store asked me if I needed help (a loaded question). I described one of the items to him. To my delight, he informed me that the items I was after were not in yet, but would be this Tuesday. He warned me to be at the store at 7:00 AM.

So, this morning I awoke to my alarm at 5:00, got ready, braved the early morning traffic, arrived at the store, and took my place in the line outside the shop at 6:45. I was about 12th in line.

And...

...I WON!

I got the items I wanted. No more, no less.

And then I was a responsible citizen and voted.

Not a bad start to a Tuesday morning.

It's a Boy...

...for Britney Spears.

As a person with some fertility issues, I just want to puke. Somebody hand me a blue-colored cigar and let's celebrate.

Do you think she registered for a car seat at Babies 'R' Us?

Update on Condiments

You may recall my post about the size of discount store condiment packaging and the potential related hazards. I thought you'd appreciate an update. We have in fact learned from our mistakes. Yesterday we signed up at Costco, which is an awesome place. As we wound around the aisles, marveling at the various appliances, recreational equipment, books, cleaning products, produce, meat, and other delightful items, we eventually found ourselves face to face with a two-pack of enormous bottles of ketchup.

We laughed and walked on.

But we did get the two-pack of mustard. The bottles are smaller and seem sturdier.

Wish us luck.

My New Favorite Store...

...is Ulta. It's, like, my "ulta-favorite" now. (Imagine me flipping my hair and doing a Valley Girl accent. Oh, and sorry for that horrible pun. I couldn't help myself.)

Seriously, though, I'm like a kid in a candy store there. During college, a friend and I would enjoy browsing in Sephora during our semi-annual trips to the Galleria in Dallas. Those shopping days were so much fun. One time I bought a nail polish that was a metallic Tiffany blue color. It cost $10, but I didn't care. Splurging was allowed on those days.

So now we have an Ulta in Burleson. I may never leave town now that I don't have to go to Fort Worth for the good stuff. Between the new shops here and online shopping, I'm set.

Now, some of you might be thinking, Uh, don't you think you should buy your makeup and hair products at the grocery store or somewhere that has stuff that normal people use? I do use some "normal" stuff--Suave shampoo (though I sometimes use the Aveda shampoo, which my husbands likes) and I do use Cover Girl blush sometimes. I'm pretty frugal, but I do like quality products. The right ones are worth it.

Here are some of my latest, greatest purchases:

• Urban Decay's mineral makeup (great for my skin) in Illusion (the color)
• Opi nail polish in My Chiuahua Bites (love their color names--wish I could name makeup colors for a living)
• Maybelline eyeliner in Sapphire Glimmer (I'll try that out tomorrow; I know it's not a designer brand really, but buying it feels so much more of a luxury when you buy it at Ulta)

Target, don't worry--you'll always be my top favorite.

The Reality of Teachers' Salaries

In a week or so, most school-aged children will go back to school. It will mark the second year since I resigned from my teaching position. I miss the kids. But the educational system continues to hack me off.

An opinion piece in today's Fort Worth Star-Telegram discusses the increased pay for first-year teachers. School districts have been making huge increases in starting salaries for teachers so that they can actually acquire teachers. Okay, that's fine. I'm a little annoyed that it's a huge amount more than what I got as a first-year teacher, but hey--that's life, right? You win some, you lose some.

Here's the problem....

There isn't much of a difference between what a new teacher makes and what a fifth-year teacher makes. I mean, there's really not much of a difference. This has always been the case, at least in my experience. So, the public school system may acquire teachers, but is it keeping them? If you get only about a $100 a year pay increase each year, what's the point of staying? Fortunately, many teachers teach because they care about what they do. But in today's world of growing class sizes, limited budgets, high-stakes testing, discipline problems, and all the family issues that factor into students' lives, sometimes it can be too much. And good teachers leave the field of education.

Here's another problem....
If you're a good teacher, you have pretty much only one option for advancement and higher pay: administration. But shouldn't the quality teachers stay in the classroom, doing what they are talented in? Even if excellent teachers go into training positions, they need to stay in the classroom in order to not lose touch with, as I heard so often when I was a teacher, "the ones in the trenches." And veteran teachers should not be expected to train other teachers without monetary compensation. That's one of the problems with teachers--they care so much about students, that they'll do whatever is needed--without being compensated. And eventually, they'll get worn out. And education will lose the best teachers.

Another school year is about to start. And I'm not one of the ones in the trenches anymore. But I'm still mad. And there are more things I'm mad about related to education. But I'll stop here for now.

Live (as in "alive") Lawnmowers

First of all, I have to apologize to myself for not taking the time to write for me. I've wanted to be a writer since I was 7, and I've neglected this blog horribly. But sometimes you're just not "in the zone." However, that's all the more reason to write. I did order a book of writing exercises recently, and have completed 9 of them. So that's something. Through those exercises, I'm learning that perhaps I ought to focus on children's books. (Eegads, not that anyone else in the world wants to do that, eh?)

Nothing too spectacular to share today, except just a quick story of a hilarious vignette I saw on my street the other day.

As I was driving by a neighbor's house the other day, I was nearly accosted by a lawnmower, moving independently into the street, with no apparent aid from human hands. I glanced up from the menacing machine to see my blonde (I'm a blonde, too, but this woman is blonde) neighbor running toward the lawnmower as it came toward my car (intent on chopping me to bits, I'm sure), one hand outreached for the runaway, and the other hand...on her cell phone that she was still speaking on. People who cannot effectively drive while talking on their cell phones is one thing. People who try to talk and mow...folks, just don't try it. I think that task is best left to stunt professionals.

Quote of the Week

Okay, it seems there's never any time for me to write. But I know I need to just make the time. But I really need to make myself work, so I'm just going to post a line from a movie that I saw recently.

"We must have British nipples."

~Bob Hoskins as Vivian Van Dam in Mrs. Henderson Presents

If you haven't seen this movie, I recommend it. It is set in WWII London, and it has a deeper significance than nudity. To read about it, click here.

She lives!

Yes, I'm still alive. ;)

The past few weeks have been ridiculously hectic. I began working on a project in mid-December, and it finally was completed (for the most part) this Tuesday night. Several people were involved, and the project had its ups and downs, but for now, it's done. Yesterday was a long day, too, because I had to attend a conference, which was kicked off with an announcement of the project and a sneak peak of what it looks like.

There were times when I thought it would never end. There seemed to be so much work to do, and difficult situations sometimes became more difficult, and sometimes I got so frustrated that I wanted to cry...and sometimes I did.

But hours, days, and weeks rolled by, and the deadline of the project did arrive. Those of us who were working on the last phases of the project worked hard that last day. And now it's over. Endings do come, even when it seems like they never will. Part of why I enjoyed being a teacher was that feeling I had every year that that particular school year would never end. But I knew that it would. It always did. Seasons come, and seasons go.

We encounter difficult seasons in our lives. I met a colleague face-to-face last night (we'd communicated only via e-mail before) who lost her father a year ago. He had been diagnosed with a brain tumor, and three months later, he was gone. She is around my age. Also, she injured her back around the time of her father's passing and had to have back surgery recently. She can't pick up her 2-year-old daughter. I shared that I had lost my mother a year ago and that my husband had had his hip replaced a month after her death. It was comforting to know that there are people who can relate to what I've experienced. And really, we all face suffering and pain in our lives.

Last night the attendees of the conference were taken on a bus tour of two blighted areas of South Dallas--Fair Park and the Frazier area. The organization I work for is involved in efforts to revitalize these areas. Our tour guides (a local Baptist preacher and a community development corporation director--both of whom live in these areas) showed us land that has been left vacant for years--land that had been the site of apartments. Now much of the land is contaminated. We saw car washes and convenience stores that are the sites of drug deals, and a motel that is the site of murders and other illegal activity. It was depressing. But we also saw the construction of new housing units that various organizations are working to create. We saw older, larger homes (just down the road from run-down homes) that are in the process of being gradually restored by people who care, who want to make this world something that everyone can enjoy and contribute to positively.

Sometimes, even as we are working so hard, it seems that it will never end. But it will. That's what I like about God. He is faithful. He has brought me the summer every year of my life. (It's my favorite season.) God controls time. Our job is to do something good with the time we have. And someday, it will all end. That's the promise of heaven. And homes won't be fall apart. Mold and lead will not threaten our heavenly habitats. There won't be murders, addiction, greed, and corruption. Differences won't separate the children of God. It will end. And I think our job now is to try to make our world, as much as we can, a mini replica of what heaven will be like.

Do what you can in your part of the world to work toward that effort. If we don't show people a taste of what is in store, how will they know what they'll be missing?

Say It Ain't So....

And we thought our kids didn't care about getting an education. (This is a very sarcastic comment.) Check out http://www.boxfreeconcepts.com/download/highschool.html to find out what I mean.

And we wonder where employers find a lot of their incompetent employees. Let's check out the people who purchase this website's products.

Hear Ye, Hear Ye...

...Princess Suri of Neptune has descended to Planet Earth. The media have not yet reported any tentacles, but I have my suspicions that a thorough examination would reveal some odd appendages.

Don't you love it that Brooke Shields had her baby on the same day? God sure has a sense of humor, doesn't He?

The Gift of Music

Last night my husband and I went to the Bass Performance Hall in Fort Worth to see Itzhak Perlman, the violinist, perform with the Fort Worth Symphony Orchestra. Little did we know what the night would hold. That evening was a gala concert held in the honor of Van Cliburn, the pianist, who happens to be a long-time resident of "Cowtown." Cliburn was presented with a key to the city as well as a citation from the governor of Texas. April 4 was declared Van Cliburn Day. Mr. Cliburn struggled to speak, overcome with emotion. He thanked Almighty God for classical music, saying he could not live without it. He shared with the audience that when he hears a good piece of music, it is as if he were feeling the breath of God. He also explained that each of us is an instrument in "the great orchestra of life," bringing our unique talents to the world. He also talked about how music is invisible, but it is real. I couldn't help but think he may have been making a reference to God as well.

Videotaped presentations of well wishes were delivered by First Lady Laura Bush, one of the gala's honorary chairpersons, Secretary of State, Condoleeza Rice, and Placido Domingo, one of the world's greatest tenors. When I was in college, Mr. Cliburn came into the bookstore at which I worked. He was very gracious as I asked for his autograph. He seems to be a very humble man, and the honor that was given him last night was certainly deserved.

After this portion of the evening, the music began. Of course, we sang the National Anthem first. I wish we did this more often as citizens. We should also say the Pledge of Allegiance. God has certainly blessed this country, as we forget that far too often.

Then, Itzhak Perlman entered, walking with the crutches that I remember him using when I watched him on Sesame Street as a little girl. I can't describe what it was like to watch Mr. Perlman play. He played the violion solo of Beethoven's Violin Concerto in D Major, Opus 61 from memory. The other orchestra members had music in front of them. Not Mr. Perlman. There were times when Mr. Perlman was not playing and the orchestra was that he slowly rocked side to side, a tender smile on his face. One could tell he must feel embraced by that piece of music. I wondered how many times he had played that piece in his life. It was an amazing experience.

For the last portion of the concert, the orchestra was accompanied by a chorus, a soprano, and a mezzo-soprano in performing selections by Verdi. Two of the four pieces had religious themes. I couldn't help but think of King David as the chorus, representing the Hebrew slaves of biblical times, sang about the River Jordan and Zion.

David must have thanked God for music. I think he also understood, as Mr. Cliburn does, that each one of us has been specially crafted by our Maker to provide the world with gifts that only we can give. Those gifts come from our core, our center, our spirit. And when that spirit is in tune with God and His desires, what music emits from us! What a beautiful world God has made. And are we not blessed to be instruments in making it even more beautiful?

Cough and Sniff

I have been sick for over a week. It began with a sore throat last Tuesday night. Usually, I can knock out a cold or sinus problems with OTC medications. Not this time. Nope. I had to go the doctor and get some real drugs. Thank God for antibiotics.

One recent evening when I was in the shower, trying to get the steam to open up my nasal passages, I composed this poem.

A Hay Fever Haiku

sick

feverish eyes

multiple mucus invasions

please, God

help

Thanks to the antibiotics and codeine-laced decongestant syrup my primary care physician prescribed, as well as to the heavenly Healer, I am beginning to feel as if I may one day resume my normal activities. Perhaps I'll even post on the blog again sooner than usual.

Testing, Testing

A friend just told me that a new rule for the Texas Assessment of Knowledge and Skills, a.k.a. the TAKS test, or the bane of Texas teachers' existence, stipulates that administrators of the standardized test (that would be the overworked teachers of our great state) must stand for the duration of the exam.

Quoi? C'est possible?

What idiot came up with that one?

Another question that creeps into my brain is What if my friend's principal made up that rule?

Hey, stranger things have happened.

When I was teaching (I resigned after last school year), I anticipated the TAKS with both dread and relief. The advent of the TAKS test (at least at my campus) meant that:

1) We could dress in jeans and "spirit" shirts on testing days.
2) We didn't have to prepare lessons for at least our morning classes on testing days.
3) Students would be mostly quiet for a few hours, with the exception of the snores emitting from the students who had completed the test and were grabbing some shut-eye.
4) The spring semester had arrived, so we could just barely make out the light at the end of the tunnel, which is the last day of school.

However...we were allowed to sit down. But, we weren't supposed to work on our computer. And I think that really doing anything that took attention away from staring at the heads of the students as they worked through the test was discouraged.

But we were allowed to sit down.

What is the world coming to if teachers are not permitted to sit down during TAKS testing? So, let me get this straight...does this rule imply that teachers are not working if they are sitting down? Let's apply this rule to other situations....

Are receptionists inefficient if they sit?

Should dentists stand while they examine their patients' teeth?

What about judges who sit while hearing lawyers' arguments? Isn't it well known that judges think better on their feet?

What about accountants? Wouldn't you prefer to have your CPA do your taxes while standing after being on his or her feet for several hours?

What about bus drivers? Hey, man, you better not sit down. Texas thinks that people can do their jobs better while standing.

Okay, enough of that nonsense.

But I've got another thought....What about a teacher who uses a wheelchair? Would he or she be stripped of his or her teacher's license for violating the rules of administering the TAKS?

When I was teaching, I stood for most of the day. I was a very interactive teacher, as was the nature of my subject area. But I was never required to stand.

Something is rotten in the state of Texas.

Bathrobe Prison

How is it that our miniature dachshund manages to create the most alarming situations in the middle of the night?

Here's the latest one....

On the night of February 13, I climbed into bed and read a while, as is my almost-nightly custom. The weather is still a bit chilly in the evenings, so I kept my terrycloth robe on while I read about lofty things like being an artist and how that relates to God. (See Madeleine L'Engle's book Walking on Water: Reflections on Faith and Art for more on that topic. My highlighter is running out of ink from all the passages I've marked in hot pink.) After my eyelids began to droop, I returned the book to the tower of assorted publications on my night table and lay my head on my pillow.

Any lofty concepts or beautiful dreams landed with a thud a couple of hours later. I'm not sure if I awoke to the rustling near me, or if it was my husband's declaration about our Rusty: "He's stuck in your robe!"

Sure enough, there he was, stuck in the sleeve of my bathrobe. A stuffed weiner. A terrycloth-covered tube. He was one trapped dog.

What do you do to get a 15-pound muscly and scared dachshund out of the sleeve of a bathrobe? I picked him up, grabbed the edges of the fabric, and shook it gently and rhythmically to see if I could dislodge him at all. His body slid down a little, which I took as a good sign. But then there was that long snout. He kept putting his head down as he wriggled franticly. I tried snapping my fingers above his head in an effort to divert his attention and cause him to raise his head with his nose pointed up. No dice.

Sometimes you've just gotta use scissors.

Fiskars shears finally released him from his accidental prison. The newly-released prisoner ran to the back door to be let outside and then kept his leg hiked for quite a length of time. Guess that predicament really scared him.

We joked later about how Rusty just wanted to give us a stuffed animal for Valentine's Day. I know--that's horrible. If my husband hadn't woken up and realized the situation, it could have ended quite differently. But in such situations, you've got to keep your sense of humor. And then never leave a bathrobe near a dog unattended again.

AAE?

In the past few months, a strange, possibly medical, phenomenon has happened to me. I cannot live without my computer. Actually, to be more specific, I cannot live without the Internet. Somehow, I cannot continue to exist without the wealth of information and entertainment my regular dosages of online life provide. My current job requires me to use the Internet regularly, and I suppose I should be seeking treatment for this affliction. But I won't. I love it.

One of the side effects of Internet usage that I have noticed is a propensity for using acronyms, abbreviations, and the like. In childhood and adolescence, we girls all signed notes to our best friends with "BFF" and such. Before my immersion in cyberspace, phrases such as "TTFN," "ASAP," (one of my boss' favorite phrases), and "N E WAZ" required no special decoder for me. I'd even gotten used to "LOL," even though I don't like it. It doesn't sound like laughing to me. Whenever I see it, I hear a soprano singing as if she is practicing her scales. "Lawl, lawl, lawl, lawl!" I stick with "Hahahahaha" in my online writing. But don't let my aversion to "LOL" stop you from using it. I've worked past my issues with it...mostly.

A few months ago, I joined a list serv for copyeditors. The daily discussion of sentence construction, questions and answers (Q&A's) regarding computer technology, and occasional punny responses have been a delight for me, both personally and professionally. It is this list serv that I credit for my interest in these new expressions. Here are some common ones:

FWIW
IMO
IMHO
TIA
AFAIK
HTH
OTOH

Translations: "For what it's worth," "in my opinion," "in my humble opinion," "thanks in advance," "as far as I know," "hope that helps," and "on the other hand."

Recently I used HTH in an e-mail to a friend. I put the translation in parentheses in case she wasn't familiar with the acronym. She responded with "TAT! (Thanks a ton!)" She then typed "Har har!" Not LOL. This stuff cracks me up. Oh, dear--I'm such a language freak.

The other day someone from the list serv used an acronym that I couldn't figure out. Thanks to Google, I found this website: http://www.netlingo.com/emailsh.cfm. It's awesome. It has helped me decipher several comments online.

So, what does my post title mean? "Are acronyms evil?"

Doggie Fragrance

No, it's not what you think. I haven't begun dousing my dog with cologne, though a few months ago, I did see some fragrance made for dogs in Dillard's. Or maybe it was Foley's. At any rate, I'm not one of those dog owners.

This morning I walked by my miniature dachshund as he was sunning himself. He sits on the sofa every morning because the sun streams in through the back door. I bent down to kiss him on his head. He smelled like Rice Krispies! We haven't had Rice Krispies in that house ever, and I can't remember the last time I even ate Rice Krispies or Rice Krispie treats. (Hmmm...that sounds good....) Maybe there's some kind of chemical reaction when sunlight hits dog fur that causes such a warm, yummy smell.

As for the doggie cologne, though...last week, the little weiner cuddled up with my husband right after my husband put on cologne. A few minutes after that, I bent down to snuggle with the dog. Imagine my bewilderment when I smelled the cologne that my husband wore when we fell in love on our pet. Talk about twisted....

Pronunciation of the Elderly

I visited my grandparents last weekend. Several times, my 84-year-old grandfather mentioned my "blodges," referring to these lovely posts of mine. In the conversation, I used the word "blogs," but he didn't catch on. He also refers to the inventor of the chicken sandwich as "Chick-a-fil." I love it. I hope when I'm an old lady, my mispronunciations give my grandchildren this much joy and amusement.

In light of these fun moments that are the true stuff of life, I hereby declare that my only real New Year's resolution will be to post on this blog once a week. Life's too funny not to record such tidbits.