So Yeah.

I am officially stressed.


p.s. Last night I was telling Jeremiah about another wonderful song from the eighties - I even played it for him.

And he was all "There is no way you remember that. It came out when you were two." And I responded with, "Then why can I sing it by heart? This song is a shit ton of awesome. A two year old does not forget something like this."

I don't know how he can doubt me. My sixth grade science teacher used to report to my mom that I was singing early eighties songs in his class. He couldn't name them because they were old, but you better believe I knew those songs.

Jeremiah even doubts that I own it. Babe? Don't ever doubt my eighties music collection. Ever. You will always lose. Always.


Two Days!

Two days left until the end of the school year!

Two days left to finish packing and labeling my entire room.

Two days left to say goodbye to an incredible group of students.

Two days.

What will YOU be doing in two days?


Dont, Don't! Don't You Want Me?

One of my favorite songs is "Don't You Want Me" by The Human League. It is a fantastic song. I sing it almost every day on my way to work. I sing the girl parts and the boy parts. Mostly I sing both because I am the only one in the car.

But also because the girl gets gypped with a smaller part. Totally not fair. Plus, I actually listened to the lyrics and the guy sounds a bit like a douche head. I mean, he goes around singing "Don't you want me?" Cocky.

I have asked Jeremiah to sing the man part of the song and he refuses. So I sing both when I am with him, too. This seems to disturb him slightly. Maybe because I use the deepest voice I can. 

It has been featured on Glee. And over the weekend when Jeremiah and I were watching Cyrus, it was on there. I totally knew Marissa was going to sing. So she and I sang together.

I thought I would provide you with the clips.



In case you were wondering, Drunk Emily, who makes an appearance approximately once a year, is quite similar to Drunk Rachel on Glee. There is a LOT of dancing. And singing. And laughing. 

p.s. It is almost my birthday.

p.p.s. Three more days of schools, yo!


So that's a no to the gummy worms?

I came in my room last week before school (with a friend who was walking around with me) and the guest teacher (who was approximately two hundred and fifty-one years old and filling in for me while I went to meetings) was trying to fit his entire plastic lunch box in my mini-fridge. Most people just put in the things that are necessary to keep cold. Nope, this guy wanted to put his whole box in there.


Coworker friend is already snickering.

Me: If you move out of the way a second, I'd be happy to rearrange some things to make room for your lunch box.
Him: In an old man voice. Oh, Okay. Who are you?
Me: I'm the teacher. I'm Emily. More snickering from the friend.
Him: Oh, Okay.
Me: Let me just move these sour gummy worms (typically these are not my treat of choice, they were for the students. But a few days ago I had that meltdown and ended up eating the pink worms out of the bag and I don't like the other colors so I occasionally try to pawn them off on others)....Would you like one?
Him: blank stare
Me: They are a delicious treat. I'm going to go to hell for lying. The citrus worms are disgusting.
Him: more blank staring.
Me: Okay. So I guess you don't want any. Let me just get them out of your way. Friend actually turning away to openly laugh. Probably laughing at both the old guy and me. 

So old people don't like gummy candy? That seems sad. 

This is what I get for trying to be nice. Okay, so not really nice, more like getting rid of flavors that I don't like,  but still.

 p.s. I came to work yesterday and Saturday. I have been at work everyday for the last eight days. I am really tired. I never want to pack again. Or unpack. Except that in two months I will have to unpack everything. I'm not asking for "Oh, poor Emily." but a little empathy might be nice. Because, yeah. It sucks.
p.p.s. I just got back from taking 29 students to the zoo. The temperature today was 109. Swamp ass and mountain dew.
p.p.p.s. Four more days of school!


Definitely Related - A quick overview of a root word and some affixes.

Dear World,
Let's have some fun with words, shall we?

Finite = bounds, limits, certainty

The nice people that came up with this word threw some affixes on it and called it definitely.

So spelling definitely should not be an issue. If finite means certainty or limits, definite means with certainty or limits, and definitely means in a definite, certain, or limited way.

These words are all related.

Not a single version of any of these words contains an "a".

Please stop spelling definitely like this: definately. As far as I know, "finate" is not a word.

In addition, in a world where everything is spell-checked and auto-corrected, how does this word still get spelled incorrectly?

Anyone else tired of seeing a specific word misspelled?

That is all.

Five more days of school.


There's Something Different About You...

A friend/coworker came up to me while I was ushering my students to the bathrooms or special or whatever. She looked a bit different, but I could not put my finger on it.

I was all, "Buffy, are you okay?" (Not that her real name is Buffy, but wouldn't that be cool to have a friend named Buffy?)

She started laughing. But only on half her face. The right side remained stoic.

"Are you drunk?" I whispered, even though my students were well out of ear shot. And even though if Buffy was drinking at 9:45 in the morning, I might have to stage an intervention.

Nope. Not drunk. But she's still smiling. It's like I'm conversing with The Joker.

"Did you have a stroke? Can you raise your right arm? Say a coherent sentence for me." I demanded.

No. She did not stroke out. Still laughing. Sort of. Business on the right side, party on the left.

"Botox?" I asked intrigued.

No. But now that I know she's not in danger of a stroke, a victim of bad Botox, or in need of intervention,  I'm laughing hysterically and tears are welling up in my eyes and I'm starting to wheeze. Damn the asthma to hell.

My students are looking back at me like I am crazy. Only because they can't see Miss Buffy's face. Because if they could, surely she would be the one getting quizzical stares.

Apparently Buffy's dentist is fond of the numbing injections before doing work. She was brave enough to come in to work afterwards. I don't think I would have been that brave.

She even sent me a picture of herself that I keep on my phone, so when I am sad or need a smile, I can look at it and laugh.

I am a horrible friend, aren't I?

Six more days of school!


Because My Earlobes Weren't Big Enough

As I have been packing up my room (Everything has to be boxed and labeled as our school is being demolished the Friday school lets out. Yes, this does add an immense amount of stress.) I found a pair of earrings.

They were a gift from a student at Christmas and I have been looking for them all over my house. Well, big effing surprise, they were not even there. They were at school. The whole time. Still in the bag they were received in. D'oh!

These beasts are HUGE hoops. Huge. They are silver and then have a bead inlay, which consists of genuine fake pearls and a variety of seed beads (I think that's what they are called.) in turquoise, green, blue, and yellow.


Today I am wearing them because I always wear the jewelry that my students give me. No matter what, I wear it. Several times.


This is not going to help my giant ear situation I have going on, Friends.

Not at all.

Seven more days of school!


Boys and Girls, I am Sorry.

Today I wore my Cynthia Rowley black dress. It is so fun. Strategically placed pleats. Grey trim around the neck and arms holes with a large grey stripe across the bottom. The dress is fun to wear because it is flippy. I walk and it goes flip swish sway. In that order. It flips, it swishes, and then there's the sway.

It looks similar to this:
Dress that is almost the same but NOT really at all the same except for the length.


 At my house, there was no wind.


But then, when my hands were full and I was walking my students across campus, a strong wind blew up. And my dress went up. Like, full-blown, Marilyn Monroe, hands covering the lady parts (and my ass) dress went up. I blame the pleats, really. The dress is designed to be swishy. And swish up it did.

I am trying to think of a time in recent history when I have been more embarrassed. I can't. The kids thought it was hilarious. I tried to stand against the wall and yelled for them to "keep walking, keep walking!"

They will not refer to me as hero anymore but that weird teacher that flashed them on the way to computers.

I can see it now.

Parent: What did you learn today?
Child: What my teacher has on under her dress.

Thankfully, the horribleness that is Spanx covered my ass. Literally. So there wasn't much to see.

And then? Because the day couldn't get any worse, I slid in the cafeteria. I caught myself, but not before my left leg slid backwards about ten miles and I looked like Elf trying to ride the escalator (or escalavator, if you are me and you are drunk in Vegas).


Eight more days of school!


About Five Months Ago, I Bought a New Car.

I got a new car! About five months ago!

After checking out lots of cars (Toyota Rav-4, Honda CRV, Ford Edge, Nissan Rogue, Subaru Forester, and Subaru Outback) I finally went with the Subaru Forester. It rated well in the reports/reviews, and I've been so happy with my Outback that I felt content staying with a company that I liked. Plus, when I drove it, Jeremiah pointed out that I seemed the most comfortable.

Here's the shocker, though.

I ended up buying NEW, which I had no plans to do. But then I thought about it. I keep my cars a long time. I have never purchased a car and made the choices myself. And I wanted to make some choices and have a car that was MINE.

Emily's Car History:
1. Earl, a station wagon. Big safe car from dad. Had it for a few months. Ran over things (friend's garbage can) and didn't even know it because it was so big.
2. BBC (Big Black Car) A Cadillac Coupe Deville. LOVED this car. Had it for years - high school and college. Big enough trunk to store bodies (not that I've tried) and the ride was smooth. And it had the nicest leather. And it had a moon roof. And it was FAST. This one came from dad, who bought it off my brother.
3. Subaru Legacy - Dad bought Old Red (before it was affectionately called Old Red) and sold me the Legacy at an astonishingly low price. Newest car I'd ever owned. I loved this car. I felt safe and secure in it, especially considering I was logging over a hundred miles a day some days, between driving to Grand Haven to student teach and then to Grand Rapids to my grad classes.
4. Subaru Legacy Outback "Old Red" - Dad traded me when I moved to Phoenix because my car didn't have air-conditioning.

So you can see several things - One, being that my dad has been AWESOME in helping me out with cars. Thanks for that, dad. I always appreciated it but even more so now that I've done the whole car-buying thing.

Two, I've honestly never picked out my own car. I have loved all the cars I've had (minus Earl), and they were mine, but I wanted to choose something that was just for me.

So I did.

And I got picky. I developed a list of non-negotiables. I had a list of acceptable colors. And I didn't settle.

I wanted:
  • Heated seats - and FYI? laughing at someone when they ask for this in a car is a great way to NOT seal the deal.
  • Fog lights - again - don't laugh at me. I have bad night vision and these REALLY help.
  • iPod hookup - not just USB connection, but the actual thing for my iPod.
  • Steering wheel controls - because they are awesome.
  • Blue or green color on the outside.
  • Dark interior cloth or grey leather.

So one evening while working late - I was heading to Michigan for my graduation the next day - I got an email from a dealership asking me what they could to get my business. I said that they really did not have anything I wanted, as I wanted the blue Forester. If they were willing to make a deal on an upgraded (limited) forester in the sage green, we could talk.

He ended up giving me a great deal, plus covered oil-changes for two years, and hundreds of dollars in giftcards (Target & Subaru). I made a down payment to hold the car, and I bought it.

These pictures aren't the greatest, but here's my new car!
The coolest thing about it is that sometimes it looks green, sometimes blue, sometimes grey. I love it. Plus, it never looks dirty. Unless a bird poos on it. That you can see.

Bright lights.

I have bigger wheels with the upgraded limited. I am not sure what that means, but apparently it is impressive.

The back seat is amazing. The seats recline. Cupholders and armrests. Holders in the door designed for water bottles.

Huge back window for safety. And you can't see it, but it has a HUGE panoramic moon roof. Which I use. Not in the summer, but spring, winter, and fall.

Steering wheel controls! Bluetooth (which I never use, because I don't use my phone while driving.)!

Okay. I LOVE the iPod hookup. Love. As in, best thing ever. The limited also has the larger screen.

Love my shifter. Makes me feel sporty. Heated seats.
 I was able to make a very considerable down payment because every month I set aside money (as I did not have a car payment to make on Old Red).

The night I brought the new car home, it was parked next to Old Red. And I sat in the new car and cried. Jeremiah found me in the driver's seat, sobbing. He was trying to comfort me from the backseat by rubbing my shoulders.

Me: But.Sob.It.Sob.Isn't Old Red! Sobs.
J: You will love this car, too. You just need to get used to it.
Me: No I won't. Sniffles
J: Yes, you wi...Oh, my god! The cup holders back here are illuminated! They actually light up! I mean, I'm sorry. I know you are sad.

I have been driving it for about five months now and I can honestly say that I love it. It's a nice ride. I still sometimes have trouble believing that it is mine. Jeremiah has even declared it his dream car if he ever wins the lottery. It's a NICE car, Friends.

A few weeks ago, I sold Old Red. It was really hard, but I feel as though it went to a good home. Some biker who biked across the United States. He wanted a big car to throw his bike in to keep it safe. I got more money than I was expecting, so that was good.

Oh, and just in case people were wondering about the other cars and why I did not opt for them:

Rogue - Not enough head room in the front seats. I am only 5'5''. I should have plenty of room. And I didn't. Plus, the lower models had NOTHING special about them. Everything was an extra or an add-on. Including the basic roof racks.

Edge - This was actually a close one. I LOVED the quick pick up. Then I tried to make a tight turn in a parking lot and it was horrible. The Edge is built on a truck frame, and it shows in the turns. Not a good car for city people. Plus, the Ford people were RUDE. One guy made a joke about us leaving by saying "What? You aren't going to buy from me because I'm Hispanic?" No, asshat. I am not buying from you because you are stupid. Two totally different things.  And.and.and. They kept my driver's license and I didn't realize it until I went to another dealership to drive another car and didn't have it.

Outback - Honestly, I loved it. Slightly more expensive. Slightly smoother ride. But something about it just wasn't right.

CRV - Used CRVs have hatches that open on the side, which bothered me for hauling stuff. The driver's seat and passenger's seat are not separated by a center console, which would have been problematic as I set my stuff on the floor of the passenger seat. Without that console, crap could easily roll over to the driver's side and become a hazard if it were to become lodged under a pedal.

Rav-4 - Didn't like anything about it. Didn't even drive it.

p.p.s. Also a big thanks to my brother and Jeremiah, who tolerated a lot of questions and offered suggestions. That way I was able to go in and not look like an idiot while talking about the cars. Oh, and my favorite line was from Jeremiah, who was constantly being approached by dealers about tricking out cars while I was shopping. He would say "You know, SHE's the one that you want to be talking to. SHE's buying the car. And SHE doesn't care about rims. SHE cares about safety features and heated seats. You might actually want to talk to HER."

Do you hear that, car dealers? Women can buy their own cars. With their own money. Shocker, I know.

 So there you go! Anyone else make any recent car purchases?


So I Bought a Giraffe This Weekend...

We went to Goodwill this weekend. Mainly because it was fifty percent off day, but also because I wanted to get out of the house a bit. And shopping for cheap books? Always fun.

When my arms were so full of books that I could carry/search no more, I walked over to Jeremiah, who was searching for records while standing next to A GIANT (stuffed) GIRAFFE. The giraffe was almost five feet tall, and it was wonderful.

Jeremiah: Find some books?
Me: Oh, yes. Who's your friend?
J: Huh?
Me: The giraffe! Are we going to take it home?
J: No.
Me: I want it!
J: No.
Me:Why not?
J: It's way over-priced.
Me: JEREMIAH. It is only twenty dollars and fifty percent off that. It would cost approximately two dollars a linear foot. That is NOT a bad price for a giraffe. Especially one of this quality.
J: Sighs
Me: I love it. I am going to buy it. I might even take it in to work. My students would LOVE a giraffe. Would you go get a cart?
J:No. I am looking at records.
Me: Okay then, you stay here with my giraffe and these books (dumping the books into his hands). Be right back! I get the cart, return, put the giraffe in the cart (making him well over six feet tall) and then this:
Me: So, watch the cart. I am going to go look at clothes.
J: Emily! No! Don't you DARE leave me here with this!
Me: Jeremiah. Yes. You know I can't drive a cart. This is true. When I lived alone I used to take two hand baskets instead of a cart. I hate carts.
Me: Can't hear you! Take care of my giraffe!

Later when I was done shopping, I found Jeremiah because he was the only one driving a giant giraffe around in a shopping cart. And boy, he did not look happy.

Which is odd, because the giraffe made everyone else happy. Old people smiled. Little kids pointed and talked to it. Everyone loved it. Jeremiah, on the other hand, wouldn't even carry it out of the store. So I did. And as I did, a mom said to her son "The giraffe is leaving now. Say goodbye to the giraffe!" and the little boy waved and said "goodbye, giwaffe!"

I fought for a proper ride home for my giraffe friend, but Jeremiah insisted that it go in the trunk.

And now, pictures. Because you have to see the wonderfulness that is my giraffe.
"Helloooooo? Anyone home?"

No, the trim is not finished. Focus on the giraffe, people.

The dogs barked and growled. The cats ran upstairs. Maddie did some interesting crawling/running/escaping.

Right now Leona is upstairs in my studio. She matches beautifully and I am trying to decide if I am going to take her in or keep her home.


The Cardinal

Every day I have a student whose hair sticks straight out in the back. Like a spoiler on all those ghetto-y road racing cars.

Straight out, like it's pointing at someone. What way to the bathroom? That way! What direction to the buses? That way! Follow his hair!

I think it's adorable, but he gets so upset. Maybe because it's so much hair. It's not some wisps, it's a significant chunk.

Sometimes I try to comb/pat it down for him. I even use water, but it doesn't work.

The other day he comes up to me:

Student: Miss?
Me: Yes?
Student: I tried today to comb it down, but it just didn't work. Pats his head furiously. This is the end of the day, by the way, so it escapes him that his hair has been this way all day. 
Me: Oh, I like it. I think it adds character. It makes you special. We can all recognize you from the back, and that's important.
Student: Do you know what my brother calls me? I should mention that I had his brother several years ago, so I can picture this clearly in my head.
Me: What?
Student: Cardinal.
Me: Snorted. I totally could not even control it. And the smile/smirk wouldn't leave, either. Awe, man. Sometimes big brothers aren't very nice. But you know, cardinals are really cool birds. And you kind of have the signature feather tuft going on back there...
Student: Sighs. Yeah, I know...He walks away absentmindedly, patting his head as he walks. His hair bobbing along behind him.

I am honestly going to miss this group of students. Not all of them, but most of them. The Cardinal yesterday wrote on his "star of the week" paper (that is not for a grade, so he wasn't sucking up) that I was his hero. Most kids pick their parents. A couple of them pick Jesus. I was so flattered to be up there with such good company. I got a bit misty-eyed, but managed to make it through.

Last night however, I had a dramatic episode (that's the nice way of saying that I had a small breakdown) and was wailing so loudly and so high-pitched that the neighbor's hound dog started baying with me. And the the other neighborhood dogs heard him and they joined in, too.

Just me and the dogs, yo.