A vote and a note

I’ve mentioned him before: The amazingly talented Peter Podgursky.

Well he’s done it again. Peter created a great short movie that is up for some national recognition – and I’m damned and determined to get the word out for people to watch and vote for this great movie: The Night Caller.

For those that are worried about ratings, etc – no worries, it’s a little spooky, but totally family friendly – and in under 7 minutes you can watch it during your hulu commercial breaks.

Please take a moment and cast your vote for The Night Caller to screen on PBS WNET Channel 13, the most watched public television station in the country at http://www.thirteen.org/sites/reel13/category/vote/#

Something Bad followed by Something Good.

Background knowledge: I’m in Grad School getting my Masters in Education so I can teach 5-12th grade Communication & Language Arts

Today in class I had to present two chapters to a group of fellow classmate. I had to present two while every other student had to only present one, due to a combination of the amount of chapters being covered versus people and because the professor hates me.

I had colorful handouts, great examples, technology based aids, and enthusiasm coming out my nose. I knew my stuff and I was on mark. Because of all the chapters we were covering today, we were told to keep the lesson under 15 minutes. 10 minutes or so and power through. Then as I give my first chapter, the teacher says when I stop around 10 minutes that we were suppose to take 15 minutes and I finished too early. BOO.  Second chapter finished too early too – around 10 minutes. I was going for UNDER 15 mins because she had emphasized the need to “power through”. Boooooooo.

Most of the feedback was good. Good aids, actions, blah blah blah, with the exception of a problem I have had forever: I talk too fast.

Every feedback form said this. Spoke too quickly, talked fast, micromachine man, sounded like an auctioneer of info, etc etc.

So then I’m down. Back to where I’ve been often this semester: I might be lousy at this, I may hate it, and I may be barking up the wrong tree with this teacher thing. I probably am. Continue? Care? Quit?

Then Rose, a classmate from Kenya, comes up to me and asks to speak with me. She talks about how organized I am and driven and enthusiastic and how much she loves my voice inflections and ability to communicate. She said she loves when I speak up in class and during my presentation today she wished she could speak like me.  She asks where I am currently teaching (I am not) and what my area of study is.

My spirits rise a little and I’m feeling a little more focused on all the things I am capable of, even if it isn’t speaking at a pace that makes people think I’m not out to Paper Moon them.

Then Rose asks me if I’ll come over some weekend and talk to her daughter. Her daughter is in first grade and, according to Rose, doesn’t have any really confident outgoing organized people in life. She doesn’t have someone who speaks like I do (Rose has a thick African dilect) or who “bubbles” (I get called on my bubbliness often… when I’m not at home… carbonating.)

I don’t know if she’ll call or if I will in fact go and meet her kid. It might be neat. But even if it doesn’t happen, she totally made me feel good about me. With all my damn quirks and quips, apparently someone still thinks I’m good enough to influence their kid.

Give Away? I don’t give a …

So I kind of dislike give aways. Not because I don’t win  - I usually do, then end up with something I didn’t really want, but was just too competitive to let anyone else have – but because it takes a whole blog post away from some one/thing I’m usually interested in and gives way to marketing, capitalism, quiznos (insert Easy A quote here).

BUT, my goodest….goodliest….goodgodiest friend Jade is doing just that: A give away for something adorably mom/child/family-cute: not at all Sage-related.  Go ahead and take a peek and then enter to win or whatever whatever. Marketing, capitalism, blah blah.

And here is where I’ll insert my shameful plug for something I think is great.

Google.

Google Chrome, Google Plus, Google Desktop, Gmail, Picasa (google pictures), Google reader, Google docs, Google calendar, and iGoogle, and much much more (just Google it).

 

And I don’t even have to give it away, because it’s always free anyway.

 

Dorka?

I got a hair cut.

I was thinking a trim, maybe 4-5 inches off to leave me about an inch below my shoulders. The lady heard an inch above the shoulders. And after the first cut I corrected her. After. So the end result is a wee bit (aka a super ton) shorter than I would prefer.

So like a grown up practical adult I drove home with M in silence and promptly ran to my room to cry into my pillow for a good hour. M wasn’t comforting, I wasn’t logical, and I finally realized that whatever, it’s hair.

The next day I woke up and worked it out. Something about a straightener and just not giving enough care about it anymore worked in my favor and I went to school and received many compliments on my new sassy cut. So much volume, so cute, a much cooler look.

Then one student said, “did you cut your hair?” I said yes.

kid: “You look like blarhghag”

me: “I look like a DORK?!?!”

kid: “No, you look like DORA”

me: “oh. okay!”

kid: “I hate Dora”

 

dammit.

Spray here

Spray on sunscreen is the greatest thing I’ve come across in a while.

Better than sliced bread.

Because if you don’t slice bread, then you’re just eating a roll – and rolls are good

But if you don’t spray on sunscreen,  you get burned.

And that is how you know if something is good: If the alternative is fire

Reply…

I hate when I’m instant messaging with someone and it goes from:

“Friend is typing” to “Friend has entered text”.

I feel like the “Friend has entered text” lasts way too long. What are you doing, Friend? Are you sitting there, looking at what you wrote me and wondering if I can handle it? Is it a joke you think I won’t get? Are you breaking up with me but you’re scared to pull the plug?!

Just hit Enter already!!

And then… without fail they send: “yep”

Let’s talk about hair

Once when visiting my mother, I decided to make scotcharoos. Upon completion of said baked goods, I deliver to M a perfectly cut, perfectly prepared ‘roo. A big chomp into revealed that I had baked into this delicious morsel… my hair. And a long brown hair extending from M’s mouth to the roo made this public knowledge to not only M and me, but my mother as well.

With a giggle and a tug at the hair, M dislodged my sugar-coated mane from not only his mouth, but the ‘roo as well and continued eating with a smile.

“THAT” my mother declared, “is true love!”

This is how we do domesticity

I have texting on my phone now. Unlimited. I’m basically as cool as any 14 year old out there. Except I can drive (I don’t) and I’ve master my skin and hair (not even semi-true) and I have this really awesome boyfriend (husband) who holds boom boxes out my window (also not true. He may fart in bed and then I scream and all hell breaks loose, but same diff). But I’m cool now either way.

Last night after work (which wasn’t a long day until about 1pm when I had to have a meeting concerning the Retirees and old people flocked in and were all slow and old and I just wanted to crawl into my eyelids and sleep through all their wrinkles), I folded laundry. Sure, the laundry had been done for 2 days and sitting in the dryer (in fact, I think it was in the dryer and M took it out so he could actually DO his laundry completely, and then he put it back IN the dryer, but whatever whatever). So I folded my laundry. Then, I made dinner (picked up the computer and ordered pizza hut delivery online, but same diff). Then I ironed my husband’s iron-free shirt and dry clean only pants so he could go to court today (thankfully not for committing crimes, but to shadow the federal judge for an afternoon).

Basically, this is my domestic take on bringing home the bacon and frying it up. And then using the bacon grease to make my own candles, which I give to poor light-less orphans.