The Cheesecake Grinch

Now it's 6th block, and we're listening to "Swing Life Away" by Rise Against. I love IMEEM. You can find anything there and it gets around the school firewall. Which, my blog is finally around the school firewall, but only because our tech team finally gave teachers "getting around the firewall" priviledges.

Here's what just happened to me in the teachers lounge. Yesterday a teacher was absent because she couldn't get a babysitter and her children were out of school. So, like all effecient and tidy moms who are never behind in anything else in their lives, she baked all day with nothing else to do. :) The good news, we reaped the rewards of her lack of finding a babysitter. She brought in, hmmm, I don't know, maybe a roll of some kind, some macaroon-looking type of cookies, and small cheesecake bites that appeared to be covered in nuts and drizzled with chocolate and caramel.


Now those cheesecake bites looked like my thing. But, I was so busy this morning that I didn't step into the lounge where the food was, but I noticed it from the copy room (since they are attached.) The second time I rushed into the work room to make copies, I thought to myself I needed to grab one of those darling little bites. The teacher who brought these goodies was in the work room also so I thanked her for being so generous and bringing treats to the faculty....mind you, I still haven't had anything yet.


She says to me, "Well, if you like cheesecake, you need to try one of these because there's only one left, and I think they are good if I did make them myself."


I said: "Thanks, I will grab it." And I put in my copies to be made before heading to the cheesecake.

BUT....another teacher, male I might add, stepped in, grabbed the cheesecake piece left, and stepped out.


I said: "Did you just get the last cheesecake?"

He said: "Yep."

I said: "That's what she told me to get."

He said: "I know. But I've only fingered (yes, he used the word fingered) this part, so I'll split it with you."

I said: "GROSS! No thank you. I don't want anything you've fingered. You can enjoy it."


He said: "It sure is good....or do you want to tell me how bad it is?"


What a grinch.

Feeling This...

Today in class we are listening to Blink 182 and "Feeling This" is playing. I'm not particularly listening to the lyrics, although students are mouthing the words.

I'm feeling the Christmas spirit. :)

Shelby just reminded us that Christmas is one week from today. Yay. The kids are in a really good mood despite the fact that their finals start this afternoon and take them to the end of the school day on Monday.

I'm feeling the Christmas spirit. This morning I was feeling drained and weighed down by all the things I have to finish over Christmas break. But now, at this second to sit down and write for a bit, I'm feeling a little of it wash away. I know it will get done...hopefully sooner rather than later.

I'm feeling the Christmas spirit. Melanie returned my coffee mug this morning with a fresh, piping hot cup of Toasted Pecan. It's yummy. And warm. And soothing.

I'm feeling the Christmas spirit. Hannah brought me a Christmas mug full of malt balls. She had no idea I loved them so much.

I'm feeling the Christmas spirit. Ashleigh gave me a sign that reads: Dear Santa, I want it all." And I really do.

Pull out the couch and ask me how that makes me feel

4th block drives me insane. It is the reason teachers question their existence in the classroom, and think seriously about pursuing another career. It's the class that irritates me so much I want to scream, and then tells me stories that make me laugh so hard I can't even remember ever being mad at them. It's the class who makes up excuses and uses every second of the one minute I give them to gripe after handing out their assignments.

They pretend to be organized.

They never pretend they have their homework done.

They pretend to be interested. They never pretend that this class, at this moment in their lives, really means anything.

They are liars and they are sneaks. They tell story after story after story.

They bother me...often. And they never use their manners.

They are happy the highest grade in the class is an 82%, and they revel in their 42% class average. They are cruel and offensive and obstinate. They are funny and loving and yes, even smart...if they would do their work. I love them and I hate them. They are my catnip and my Kryptonite, my liverwurst and onions, my birth and death (this was Preston's idea.)

Anyway. 4th block. There's nothing better...and there's nothing worse. It's the trenches of education. Or, I should end this with their words..."Yous edumacated, Ms. Dardy."

Jukebox Hero

When I think about Christmas presents, I think about stockings and Cabbage Patch Dolls and race track cars and bibles and bicycles. But one gift that really sticks out in my mind is the jukebox from Christmas 1979...and it might have been 1980.

It was such a great gift that rather than sitting in my bedroom, the whole family enjoyed its radiance. Parked between the kitchen and dining room in our house in Gainesville, and I parked in front of it, staring at it work it's magic and drifting off places the beat would take me. The lower half of the jukebox was hard plastic, with disco lights behind it. Those lights were mesmerizing, and we'd turn out all the lights in the house just to watch them flicker to the beat of The Oak Ridge Boys "Elvira" or John Denver's "Country Boy." It's record player thrilled us with Alvin and Chipmunks albums and with the 8-track, we played Kermit strumming his banjo and wailing "Someday we'll find it, the rainbow connection, the lovers, the dreamers, and me." Over, and over, and over again.

White Christmas at the Gillioz...

Five dollar ticket, $2 popcorn, a century old theater, and watching White Christmas from front center balcony--this is where the magical night began.

Surrounded by chandeliers, tight theater seats, and gilded walls, we watched Bing Crosby woo Rosemary Clooney (my dad's first crush), while Danny Kaye and Vera-Ellen danced the night away. Bing's blue eyes mesmerized us and Rosemary's voice carried us to the ski chalet in the mountains of Vermont. We left singing Snow, Snow, Snow, Snow, in different octaves and spent the weekend wishing for the snow that finally fell Sunday night.