Taggety Tag, Tag, Tag

Amy Lane tagged me this mornin'. I am to tell you 8 random facts about myself and then tag others to do the same. I don't believe there are enough people who read my drivel to tag, so if you happen upon this and feel so inclined, consider yourself tagged by moi.
1. I'm bendy. Even when I'm fat, I can put my hands flat on the ground and put my feet on top of them.
2. I wanted to be a doctor when I was a kid. It's the only thing I ever really thought about being until second semester of my 7th grade year. Mr. Tenbrook changed all that by telling me I was too stupid to be a doctor and if I did, I'd end up killing someone. No medical career for me.
3. I have a head full of useless and random knowledge and sometimes it seeps out of my mouth before I even know that I know it. It happens in my classes all the time. For example: Flamingoes are pink because of the iodine in the shrimp they eat.
4. I am the go to girl for all things inappropriate at work. If a kid has a question that should not be asked, they will ask me. Gynecological advice? Ask Ms. C. Parent issues? Ask Ms. C. Birth control? Ask Ms. C. Bodily functions not functioning? Ask Ms. C. It is bizarre.
5. I am right handed but there are some things I cannot do with my right hand.
6. I love to cook but don't enjoy eating most of the things I cook. You'd think this would be an excellent weightloss plan, since I'm the only cook in the house, but no. Oreos are not cooked by me and thusly, are delicious.
7. I haven't eaten any red meat or pork for 17 years. I was a vegetarian for 11 or so years, but my kidneys revolted and now I eat chicken and turkey.
8. I am afraid of ants. Not much else scares me or freaks me out, but ants will send me running and screaming like a tard as soon as I see them. I hate them and wish I could obliterate them.
So there you go. A little bit of an insight into the freak that is me.

It's been far too long

So it's been a while since I've posted anything. Spring break ended and I went back to work and got sucked back into the miasma that is a teacher's life. No time for social stuff. So anyway, here's a brief rundown of what's gone on since my last post:
-Our house got egged on Easter night. We caught the little fucker. I say we, but I mean my husband, who, due to his detainment of said fucker, has earned himself the name Mr. Ninja amongst my friends. He chased the kid down, screaming "your mine motherfucker!" and pinned him down using his super secret agent ninja skills to detain him until the police arrived. Fun!
-I cut and colored my hair. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, the Lady in Red once again has red in her hair.
-We attended a Shabbat dinner at a Hassidic Rabbi's house. I met his wife in my OB's office while I was pregnant. She saw my Hebrew tattoo and followed me out. That was in September or October and she's been inviting us over since then. Until recently, we always had something else going on. When she called in April, we were free, so we went. It was awesome. There was a lot of singing and praying, which are usually not my thing, but it was beautiful. The food was really good and the company was really nice. It was nice to get a glimpse of my heritage. It kind of made me sad in a way, too. I feel like I missed out on a whole life, a whole culture I could have known if I hadn't had defective relatives. Eh. Whatever. I'm just glad we got to go.
-The little fucker from above, the one who egged our house, we're pretty sure he and his little fucktard friends slashed Mr. Ninja's tires two weeks ago. We can't prove it, but we KNOW it was them. Asshats.
-Work has been tumultuous at best. We are finally done with testing, and now onto the downhill slide toward the end of the year. I have enjoyed the kids I've had this year. They are overall the kindest, most respectful, well behaved bunch of kids I've had the pleasure of teaching, but I'm so done with them. They can move on to someone else now. Please.
-The midgets are growing exponentially. Oscar had a visit to a cardiologist to rule out any heart conditions and deformities. He is perfectly healthy. Thank Pete.
I do believe that's it folks. If I think of anything else, I'll add it later.
I hope y'all have a great Mother's Day.

Already bought my ticket...

Your Deadly Sins

Envy: 60% Gluttony: 40% Lust: 40% Sloth: 40% Greed: 20% Pride: 20% Wrath: 20% Chance You'll Go to Hell: 34% You will die at the hands of a jealous lover. How ironic.

How Sinful Are You?

So gross

So, I went to get a pedicure earlier today, because I'm a princess and I can, and as soon as I walked in the door of the place, this girl starts asking me if I want my eyebrows, lip and legs waxed, if I want fake nails or maybe a manicure. I politely tell her "no, I just want a pedicure, thank you." So she points to the row of pedicure chairs and tells me to sit wherever. A few minutes later, I'm sitting in the fun chair and a different lady is rubbing salt stuff on my legs and massaging my calves (which feels so yummy) and the girl who had accosted me with the list of available services when I walked in sits down next to her. She hoists her leg up on one of the chairs and starts picking at her toes. Yuck. But then her pant leg fell back (she had her leg way up there) and I almost screeched. Her legs were HAIRY! I mean, not just a little stubble. I mean full on, haven't been shaved or waxed in years, you could braid it and make rope with it, hairy. So I sat there for the rest of the pedicure, creeped out, thinking, if you're in this business, wouldn't you use the services you are selling? Wouldn't that make sense? I mean, what the hell would make me let you put hot wax on my legs and rip it off if you aren't even willing to do it yourself? I don't think I'll go back. I'll find somewhere else to be a princess, thank you very much.

I may need a face transplant.

I DO NOT look like Tara Reid. I DO NOT! I hate that tramp.






This one is marginally better. At least I got Buffy!



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http://www.myheritage.com

Teacher of the year

Yeah, that's me. I just spent a good 10 minutes of my class explaining the linguistic differences between the words force and fart to one of my students. He was adamant that 'force' was the word used to describe a fart. Fist shakingly secure in his belief that he was right, he announced it to the class. The kids were cracking up. I almost died. I was laughing so hard, I was almost crying. It's a good thing this kid has a good sense of humor. He even went on to make up a little song for himself so that he could remember the difference between the two words. I couldn't make out all his lyrics, but there was mention of a bathroom, so maybe I'm glad I missed them.
This is, however, the same kid that told me an amphibian is a girl who likes to kiss other girls, so I'm not sure I should have been surprised by today's conversation.
Most days I really like my job, but some days, I love it.

Snackage and Random Musings

I'm gonna whine a little.
I'm on a restricted diet. It sucks. I have been since the beginning of the 7th month of my pregnancy. My eldest son has pretty severe food allergies, and because of this, the doctors suggested I restrict my diet during pregnancy and while nursing to try to prevent Oscar from developing them, or lessen their severity should they develop. It still sucks. I can't eat anything with milk or eggs in it. No real bread, no milk chocolate, no ice cream, no cheese or yogurt. I can't even eat scrambled eggs for breakfast or have belgian waffles. Pfft. It isn't as bad as it was with Victor. I can at least eat a little bit of a variety because in the last 3 years, I've assembled a nice little list of allergen free foods and alternatives, but they just aren't the same. No matter what the label says, a vegan waffle just does not taste the same as a regular one. It just doesn't, but with enough syrup, they are palatable, and they do satisfy my carb cravings.
While I was in Target the other day, spending more money I don't have on a secret pal I've never met, I stumbled across a treasure trove of snackage that made my heart skip a beat. Chocolate. Honest to Goddess real chocolate that has no milk in it! It's semi-dark and has fruit and nuts in it and I am in HEAVEN! I haven't had real chocolate in 6 months. 6 months people. Do you know how homicidal I was about to become? Extremely. It's bliss. And it has poetry in the wrapper, which I consider to be a bonus. I was good and only bought two bars. The first had cherries and almonds in it. It was gloriously delicious. I stretched that puppy out over 3 days. The one I busted into today has freeze dried raspberries in it. It is also delicious. I like just looking at it too. The brilliant redish fuscia color of the dried raspberries against the dark, dark brown of the chocolate is beautiful. It really is, and not just because it tastes good!
Speaking of my homicidal tendencies, what the fluck is the deal with soccer moms? I'm not talking about every mother of every child who has ever played soccer. I'm talking about the 'soccer moms'. You know, the perfect little bitches with one child who is involved in every conceivable activity, who drives an SUV because she can, even though she only has one kid to cart around, and feels the need to inform everyone she meets that she owns every gadget known to man and so does her kid. I don't get it. It's just stuff lady. Now I'll explain my random rant. There's a new kid in V's karate class (which could lead to a whole other rant all by itself, but I'll save that for another day.) He has been there twice. Both times, he's been a total spaz, which is ok because he's young and new and still learning the ropes. His mother is a nice enough lady. The first day he was in class, she sat right next to me and about in my lap and talked the whole time about how our two boys were just too cute and needed to be friends. She went on and on about how we should do play dates and how they'd love it and yada, yada, yada. I'm cool with that. V needs friends his own age who live around here. But class ends that day and they leave without saying a word. Sweet. Whatever. So we're talking after class yesterday, and she brings up the playdate thing again, only this time, she goes off about all of the things her son has that mine could play with. He's got a car that drives and a motorcylce too, and all the Star Wars movies, and...............for five minutes while I sat there staring at her. My social retardation came into play here, because I totally didn't know what to say to her. Your kids a spoiled brat? Why don't we just go to the park? My kid has toys too? So I pussed out and just said we could talk about a playdate next week, scooped up my midgets and tore ass to the car before she could talk anymore. Maybe it's just where I live, but this happens all the time. This is the reason I don't associate with any other moms around here. They are ALL like this. Or at least, they appear to be. I don't get it. Is it me? Has my retardation reached such a level that I've just completely lost the ability to behave appropriately in social situations? Or are they really the status hungry money-mongers I think they are?
Moving on, I ordered something for my secret pal and it was supposed to be here yesterday. I procrastinate, so of course I ordered it late and then paid an exorbitant shipping charge for 1 day Air. It didn't show up when it was supposed to. I need to mail her package off tonight so that she will get it before April 1st. Yes, I've waited THAT long. If there is not a package on my doorstep before the post office closes tonight, I'm gonna hurt me a UPS guy.
I am so ready for spring break, it isn't even funny anymore.
And on that note, I'm off to do some more dishes before yoga.
Later peeps.