Direction: Medford Or Something

I hesitated and I got bitten by the cruel hand of Tube Fate. The doors closed on me while my bag full of travely shit and I were attempting to board the train. Minding the gap, etc. Matt was too busy laughing to press the open door button and the rest of the passengers just stared awkwardly.
Thanks everybody. I got this one.

Two Sleeps

I'm taking these chapped lips and several suitcases to London tomorrow night. Matt and I will spend the next week in pursuit of things we've never seen in our travels before. I'm looking for aliens. He's looking for wealthy Brits who will buy us drinks.
On the advice of Rin and Ryan, my two crack-team specialists (is that the phrase? somehow crack-team evokes a different picture in my mind), I will buy a copy of Time Out magazine and use it often. I will put it in my "Clap Your Hands Say Yeah" tote because I am so hip. Yesssss.

Meaning Business!

Jake and Leah got married on Saturday. She wore make up. He wore a button-front shirt not made of flannel. We received them in the classiest 500-person place St. Cloud has to offer. Noted also for the Chippendale performance I attended there in 2000.
Hot.
We stormed the dance floor and I drank more Miller Lite than anyone would recommend. (Not in that order.) My bowels stood there with a clipboard; taking notes; shaking their head: No zis is too much. She will pay for zis in ze morninkg.
And how.
I lay in bed last night, reflecting on my weekend, safe from all the dragons outside. Wait. No. Sources tell me that they were our neighborhood cats making dragon sounds.
Animals: turn yourselves in to the proper authorities or I will call the cops. I said I would the last two times, but now I am serious! Now, where'd I put that six pack?

The Pre-Celebration, In Which I Narrow Down My List

Thankful for:
String Cheese
Converse All-Stars (old and new)
Podcasts of This American Life
Camera Equipment
Love
Music Inspired by Limp Bizkit
Sunglasses

Intimidation Techniques, Sting Operations, and a Panda

Somebody order me a full-spectrum light bulb.
This week has been longish with an incredible frustration. Knives! Theft! Destruction of Private Property! Let me tell you that I am thisclose to laying the smack down on my little adolescent friends here.
And when I'm done yelling at students, I will snuggle with a panda because I need to recharge in the arms of an extremely hairy immigrant. (No offense, Matt.) He can feed me eucalyptus and we can talk about his adjustment to apartment life.
So make that a full-spectrum light bulb, and a panda. Order them both from Amazon.com and qualify for free shipping.

The Height of Impropriety

I reheat my lunch in the nurse's office (a slightly less suspect machine than the one in which JudyOffice warms her U-shaped neck pillow (Disgusting.)).
My mind wanders over the model lungs until I hear something crackling and know the food is done.

My little friend Abdi (protecting the cute-faced innocent) stopped by today with a big grin. He has this inappropriate church giggle thing he does when he's uncomfortable. "What happened?"
He got up to switch chairs and when the teacher yelled, he started laughing:
Insubordination!
Wha?
Go to the office immediately!
Three minutes later, he was crying. "I can't be normal. I either cry or laugh. It's too hard here and I don't understand all the English. [...] When I get home I just need to watch TV to help me get out my stress. So I don't do my homework. I could give up TV."
At that moment I wanted to hold his hand and tell him that he doesn't have to give up TV; that I will buy him a TV chip brain implant so he can watch it all day long, until everything is easier. But I didn't. He blotted the tears in his eyes, left cheap school tissue in their place.

Some days I am bad at this job. I think I know the kids. I assume I know how they are living here and at home, and forget to have them explain it to me. But to imagine going through a day feeling like a failure or reading a textbook in a language other than your own... It makes the stupid stuff seem extra stupid. Except for that bitch with her corn-filled travel pillow.

Give Us a Kiss, Pancake

What I did:
-G-chat
-Shuffle paper
-Doodle

What I could have did:
-Work
-Dismantle the computer
-Melt ice cubes on the heater
-Fly to Europe
-Eat breakfast

I'm having one of those days where I got totally excited about snow and then it stopped like five seconds later. It was brief-but-real enjoyment. Now that the darkness comes sooner, I need to drink more brightly colored beverages and pretend I'm in a movie about Norway. I go from yipping to despairing in the blink of a pink eye. [I'm disease free, Mom. But it is cold and flu season. Wash your hands.] The Fratellis make me smile. And this.

Prelude to a Suspension

Student: I threw something at him.
Me: What?
Student: A fig newton.... He disrespected me. He got in my face.
Me: So you pegged him with fruit and cake?
Student (laughing): Yeah. [Unintelligible]
Me: It was an accident?
Student: No, I said it was nasty.
Me: You're out for tomorrow.
Student: I know.
Me: Next time?
Student: I'll make sure it hits him.

50 Minutes and a 10-Pound Bouquet

I had so much fun and did so little laundry this weekend that today I put on a strapless bra, the ramifications of which were horribly unclear until I sat down at my desk for Stabby Underwire Time, presented to you by Target brand undergarments.
Rin and Eric's wedding was totally kickass. Thupergroup performed; Matt photographed; Everybody cried; Nobody fainted. We ate many foods and danced many dances. Like the running man, which I am happy to replicate in any restaurant parking lot.

And You Call Yourself a [Party] Animal

We had two ninjas, one bride, one "hockey player" and about 17 pixie sticks each. That was before Lucy started puking (Carly, send me a photo of The Explorer)*.
Later, we had some Skittles.
I should probably take a breather from the candy, cause Rin gets married on Saturday and that is not enough time for me to have my dress let out. Unless she's cool with sweatpants (are you cool with sweatpants? I'm cool with sweatpants. Plus, I own a variety of colors, and Jo-Ann Fabrics has some pretty ribbons).

*This dog can't hold her processed sugar.