Crazy Dreams...

Okay, ya'll. I've had some crazy dreams lately. We're talking out of the ordinary, so real it makes you think it actually happened, dreams. But the worst part is, I've been doing crazy things in my sleep, too.

Dream 1- I was searching for a document that I HAD to have.
Crazy part- I woke up and I was digging through my dresser drawers. When I woke up, I realized I was sleep walking and went to bed. In the morning, I found my other dresser open and stuff was out of it. Which means I had gone through one dresser and taken out my unmentionables and put them on the floor. Holy crap! I didn't wake up when I was going through my first dresser. Um..  weird.

Dream 2- I was wearing a retainer that didn't fit and was super uncomfortable. I had to keep repositioning it in my dream so parts wouldn't keep ripping apart my mouth. I was wearing the retainer because my teeth were falling out.
Crazy part- I woke up and my mouth was torn up in the back where I was digging in my sleep. Seriously? I hurt myself in my sleep.

I'm thinking this is all probably stress induced, but seriously? I'm not getting good sleep AND I'm making my room a mess and hurting myself.

Weird.

{There Are No Words...}

This?

This was my Valentine's Day surprise.

Please note: I despise hearts. Anything heart shaped makes me want to gag.

And we had a strict "no gift policy"

Oh! To top it off? My house was also decorated with approximately 9 heart shaped balloons.

It's a good thing he's cute or I would have to kill him.

In all honesty, though, it was in good fun. My dad was a really big jokester, so it made me laugh (and cry) to think about how much fun my dad would have had hearing that story. I'm pretty sure he high fived B from heaven that day.



I Hate Flying Things...

The roomie and I spent a relaxing Sunday pampering ourselves with mani's/pedi's and really good coffee.
As we were leaving the nail salon, I spotted a snickers bar. Snickers bite sized, of course. But still snickers. And still ooey and gooey and caramel-y and chocolate-y and .. and.. well, you get the point.

As I was ripping open the elusive snickers bar, I ruined my nail. For the third time. (yes, I'm super impatient and/or spastic and always hit my nails on something or touch them too early and pow! it's ruined.) And the roomie was totally making fun of me for being spastic/impatient and was all, "Wow.. I can't believe you had to have your nails retouched 3 times because you can't just sit like a normal person and let them dry."

Truth hurts.Whatevs.

I was plotting my revenge when all of a sudden a flippin' stink bug the size of Montana flew and landed on my hand. If you know anything about stink bugs, you know you can't squish them because they smell all kinds of gross. And they are totally prehistoric looking, so they look like they may be distant relatives of triceratops.

In my head I'm all like, "WTF do I do?! I can't squish this thing because there will be bug guts all over my hand. And I can't move my fingers because the roomie will make fun of me and I'm out of the salon now so I can't even get this shiz fixed. CRAP!" Outside my head, I'm all like, "aaaaaaaaaaaaah!" and I blew on the darn thing and won't you know it wouldn't even move! It was like the spider man of stink bugs. Again, I'm all like, "aaaaaaaaaaah!" and blowing my brains out trying to get this thing to fly away.

Roommate? Laughing.

Me? Freaking.

Stink bug? Likely laughing.

I finally decided to flick my hand. Won't you know that thing stood there and took it! I finally gave one good blow and it didn't budge, but then jumped off my hand. I totally showed that thing who is boss!

From there, we headed to the pet store to check out the prices on dog bones because when you have two dogs, it's like you go through bones in a hot second and all we ever do is spend $20 here and $20 there on stupid bones for the dogs. So we wanted them cheap.

We're just walking in when I see some 10 year old holding a freakin' gerbil in his hand and I'm all like, "Holy shiz! Drop that thing! It might bite you!" As I'm having a mental freak out, a bird begins squawking. We're talking screaming at us.

Now would be a great time to time-out and remind you that I'm deathly afraid of birds. I was attacked on multiple occasions growing up and I just can't handle them.

So I'm having a mental freak out about the creepy crawly gerbil while this 10 year old is all but making out with it, when the bird screams bloody murder at me. You know what I did? I ran. I ran out of the bloody pet store because I'm a baby and I'm scared to death of birds.

And you know what that 10 year old did? He laughed at me.

Sucker. Wait 'til the gerbil poops on your hand.

Images:
http://blog.webosaurs.com/tag/triceratops/
http://www.arkadiapest.com/stink_bugs

Moron.

Remember how I moved recently?

My new address is all of one number off of my old address (with a totally different road name, town, and zip code...) and I effed up and typed the wrong address for the DMV when I changed it online. No biggie, right? WRONG. I didn't notice until AFTER I returned from the DMV to renew my driver's license.

The license I waited in line for an hour to get.

The one that cost me $30.

The one I literally got less than 3 hours prior to realizing my mistake.

Turns out they cost money to be replaced. And you can get a ticket for having an invalid driver's license.

To make matters worse? I realized it as I was walking into the gyne*cologists office and was almost hit by a car because I was walking down aisle with my head down, paying no attention to the driver who was driving balls to the wall to make their appointment. Seriously. Who is that excited to go to the gyne*cologist?

Probably the same person who pays $30 for a driver's license that is valid for 5 years with the WRONG address.

Oi Vey.

I meant to post vacay pictures tonight, but I broke my finger playing touch football. The hunt and peck method of typing is annoying, so I'm going to have to hold off on the vacation recap.

If you're wondering, I didn't score the TD, but I did score one later. Broken finger and all.

I'm that tough.

What's in a Name?

Lunch choices for today included hamburgers. Pretty normal, right? Totally.

Until..

Mr. Wiggles: "That's my nickname!"

Me: "Huh? What is?"

Mr. Wiggles: "Hamburger! Hamburger! My mom calls me hamburger. Or little hamburger."

Me: "Hmm. Really? That's a unique (read: weird) nickname....how did she come up with that? Were you always eating hamburgers?"

Mr. Wiggles: "Nope! It's because I look like a hamburger."

Me: "You do?"

Mr. Wiggles: "Yeah, I'm the color of a burger! No cheese, though. That would be yellow."

Another little guy: "Ms. L! We're like the mayo on his hamburger. You know, white and creamy."


Oi vey.

This is what is wrong with the world...

Brooke Mueller, Charlie Sheen's soon-to-be ex-wife, will be receiving $55,000 a month for child support. $55,000 a MONTH? And, they will have joint custody. What in the world costs that much money?

Let's do the math here. Divided by two children, that's $27,500 a month per child. Annually? That's $660,000 a year. That woman is making more money a month for her children than I make in a year, working. You know, actually doing something. Like, educating our youth. (And all you mom's out there, don't go crazy on me. I know you do things when you're a mother-- it's totally a full time job. But it's a volunteer position, ya know?)

Mom's out there, please explain to me what could cost that much per month. I know diapers are expensive, but that's just ridiculous.

Don't believe me? Check it out here.

Hypocrite.

Yes, I just realized I'm a hypocrite. Not in an extremely bad way. But a hypocrite nonetheless.

One of my signature lines in my classroom is, "Ignore them. The only person you can control is yourself. You can't control what others do." In fact, it's such a signature that I've actually had kids repeat it while I was saying it. We've dissected what it actually means and what we can do to help a situation, even if we can't change what others do.

That being said? Why on Earth do I think I can control what others do? Maryland drivers drive me crazy. But I can't change them. I can only control my reaction to them. My kids drive me crazy. I can't control what they do. I can only control my reaction to them. (I can encourage them to make better choices-- but I can't change the choices they make).

This is particularly frustrating to me because I'm such a rule-bound person, except in the case of the speed limit because I'll be darned if I can actually drive it. I follow rules because they are rules. Not because they even make sense. Simply because someone has said it's a rule.

And that's why I yelled at some driver who was talking with their cell phone to their ear. The law changed October 1st in Maryland: you must use a hands-free device. I paid $60 to get a bluetooth so I could follow the rules. For some reason, it just didn't seem fair that if I couldn't drive with a phone to my ear, he shouldn't be able to either. I may have yelled at him and pointed to my hands free device while "encouraging" him to get one, too.

O.M.G.

I just spilled spaghetti-o's on my beige carpet at 9:00 at night. We're talking all.over.the.place red tomato sauce stains. It was all I could do to not cry right then and there. You know I was frazzled when I didn't even bat an eyelash when Zoey (who NEVER gets human food, ever) was eating the noodles while I was trying to clean it all up. I actually appreciated her getting the noodles out of my way so I could do damage control.

On top of that? I didn't have chemicals for the spot bot carpet cleaner AND I hadn't eaten dinner or lunch. So I ran to Tar-jay in my pajama's to get chemicals for the stupid spaghetti-o mess and I hadn't even eaten all day. If you know me in real life, you know I'm one big cranky pants when I haven't eaten.

I want to throw something right now.

And Zoey? She has tomato sauce on her back, her head, and her nose. Is it bad that I don't care enough to clean it up? I've already worked so hard on the carpets.. I can't clean anymore.

Teacher of the Year and Mother of the Year

Before you go reading too much into that title, the recipients are two different people. I, of course, win the Teacher of the Year Award and some other mama wins Mother of the Year.

While in summer school today, I overhear a little boy say turn to his mom and say, "Mom! Mom! I know her. She's a teacher at my school. She hits kids." The mom, without missing a beat says, "Well then you better be nice and don't make her hit you!".

Wow. Apparently other kids think I hit students. Let me defend myself before you all go thinking I abuse kids. I work with students with severe emotional and behavioral disorders. We're talking the cream of the crop. The naughtier the better. I get the kids who are unsuccessful at their previous school. I have kids who have punched adults (and caused an emergency room visit, no less), screamed obscene comments at adults and kids, and made numerous threats involving explosives, or other weapons. I have some pretty tough kids. As a result, I sometimes have to manage their behaviors with a hands on approach (I'm certified, don't worry) and it's always a last resort and only when the kid is a danger to themselves or others. So, yes.. it may look like I'm abusing them. I assure you, I am not. But, in the eyes of a 6 year old, it may look like I"m hurting them.

Thankfully, the mom laughed it off and turned to me and said, "I assume he has his story a little off. Don't you work with the ED kids? I can only imagine what was really happening!" and laughed again (with a little pity in her voice).

So.. I win Teacher of the Year for "hitting" kids and she wins Mother of the Year for being so cool.

On another note, not Mother of the Year? Letting your kids play in a public play place without shoes on. Seriously, do you know what could be lurking on the bottom of others' shoes? Wow. Let's just hope little Jimmy doesn't go wiping his feet, then his face, then your face. Because the likelihood that I stepped in dog doo before walking on those floors? Pretty high. Now you're stuck with dog doo feet little kids who might stick their fingers in your face. Sucks to be you.

The World is Ending...

No cable/internet for a week. I might just poke my eyeballs out. Seriously, what am I going to do without internet? I can handle the cable-- there's a way to fix that, just watch lots and lots of movies. But no cable? Seriously, the world might end and I won't even know because I can't check facebook or msnbc to find it out.

If you don't hear from me by next Saturday, please send a search party. And be sure the search party has access to internet.

Sorry..

Dear Mr. or Mrs. Squirrel,

I'm sorry that I often let Zoey run after you, but did you really need to look me in the eye and drop a nut on my head? I mean really. That's not cool. She will never catch you and I really only let her chase after you because of this. I don't want to deal with a dead squirrel any more than you do.

Stop throwing nuts at us. It's not cool.

Signed,
Lori and Zoey

Morning

The World's Worst Morning turned into a Good Morning, with a very unlikely cast of characters.

The villain today will be played by none other than Little Miss Zoey (I know, strange...she's a princess) and the hero will be played by my ex. (Wait! It's not what you think..)

Zoey pooped, if you can even call it that, all over the living room in the middle of the night so I woke up to about seven runny areas of feces on my sparkling hardwood floors. Seriously, they are sparkling-- I just super cleaned them. So instead of sipping a nice glass of coffee and eating breakfast after I woke up, I was cleaning up after the dog with an occasional dry heave thrown in for good measure. My annoyance with her somehow reminded me that I needed to find someone to watch her this weekend, as my original dog sitters are going out of town and my backup will be on vacation (that's what I get for knowing so many teachers-- they are all on vacation!). In a near panic, I decide that I'm going to text my ex. After all, she is his dog, too. Turns out, he's available and was able to save the day. Or at the very least, the morning.

I'm so lucky to have a decent relationship with my ex. I know not everyone can say that. It really makes dealing with all of the emotions that much easier when I get to take hate out of the equation.

And now? Now I'm off to do math all day! The nerd inside me is super excited. Seriously.

I'm Bad, I'm Bad, I Know It...

A bad blogger, that is.

Just got a text from a real-life friend that simply said, "You have not blogged in 4 days, that's unacceptable!"

So.. here I am.

Went out with the neigbor girls last night who happen to be lesbians (this is an important part of the story, otherwise it wouldn't matter what their sexual preference is) and we headed up to our local dive bar. It's within walking distance to our condo, so it was a perfect choice. And, it really is a dive bar, so we were able to just roll up there wearing jeans and t-shirts and absolutely no make up.

Anyway, as we're eating and drinking, a man walks up to us, clearly intoxicated, and asks if he can sit down to enjoy the band. If you know me in real life, you know I would be like, "Oh heck no!" and turn away. I don't play like that. However, the girls say yes and he begins talking to us. Please keep in mind we are a) in a dive bar, and b) right down the street from not 1 but 2 halfway houses. The old man starts telling us his story and apparently he just got out of prison, this morning. Awesome. He continues hitting on the neighbor girls and even asks if they are girlfriends. He asks me if I have a girlfriend. (My response, "No. But I have a boyfriend and he's a cop." just so he would get the memo that maybe, just maybe he should go away now) By this time, he's really getting on my nerves because he's clearly being a dirt bag. We grab our bill, pay up, and head out.

As we're walking out, he begins following us, making disgusting comments to the girls. Knowing that if we walk home, he'll likely follow us, we decide to walk the other way. He still follows. At this point, I have the local police on speed dial (because I'm a worrier, natch) in case we need them. Thankfully, one of the girls just lays it out for him telling him to leave us alone or we will get the police and since he just got out of prison, they likely won't be very nice to him getting in trouble on the day he got out.

My favorite part, though? One of the girls' facebook status updates: "My daddy would be so proud! I was just hit on by a man while hanging out with two beautiful ladies. Only problem: he just got out of prison. BUT he was Jewish! Daddy always wanted me to date a nice Jewish boy."

Some Girls Have ALL the Luck...

...and I am not one of those girls!

You see, I'm not very lucky. In the past few months, I've separated from my husband (unlucky in love), had a car accident (just downright unlucky), and got the stomach flu on Christmas (pretty crappy). Now? I'm staying at the house (I've since moved out and into a fabulous condo that I found randomly on craigslist, so I suppose I do have some luck!) with the dogs, as my ex is out of town and two dogs in one tiny condo isn't such a good idea.

Where was I? Oh yeah, I'm staying at the house. Well, the heat decided to stop working. I know, right. Of course it would happen when I was there. It's winter, folks. That means it's super-cold. After problem solving with my father-in-law (ex father-in-law? how does that work?) we decided it was unsafe to have the furnace on, as the flame that attempts to start the furnce keeps getting bigger and we really don't need third degree burns now do we? So, as a result.. I'm sleeping in the basement that has electrical baseboard heating on a blow up mattress. Classy. I suppose it's like camping. In a house. In my old house. With two dogs. And very little heat.

Good thing I have lots of blankets. And yes, I'm shivering as I type this. Because of course, the television is upstairs where the temperature is downright frigid.

Oh and to add to the luck? MLK day is coming up, so that means I've been teaching my children about compassion and the amazing teachings of Dr. King. Last year, I had tears when I read the page that he was murdered. This year? A little kiddo told me that his mom hated white people, except she probably didn't hate me. I suppose I'm honored. Just a little confused... and, one kid said I was just like Dr. King because I say, "Use your words, not your fists."

But the best news in all of this? I'm still smiling (through chattering teeth, of course...) and laughing. So I suppose I'm not so unlucky afterall.

The One With the Urinal...

I promise, most days I love my job. Most days I think I have the world's best job. Some days, however, I want nothing more than to jump out the nearest window and never return. Today? A window day.

Exhibit A: One student pukes all over himself in our crisis room. He is then sent to get a change of clothes and then back to my classroom. He begins gagging, I grab a trash can, he pukes again. This begins a chain reaction of kids gagging and screaming, "I'm going to be sick!" Me, too. I can't really handle vomit. Pretty awesome.

Exhibit B: "Yo, Ms. L.. isn't it supposed to have two t's? You know, butt!" (rolls eyes...we've had this conversation before..) "Little Man, there are two different but's. One is the one we sit on, the other one we use when we're talking, like 'I like winter, but I hate snow'. One we can say in class and the other we can't." Wouldn't have been bad, except it caused a huge discussion about why we can't say but with two t's, as it's a body part not a cuss word. Oy vey.

Exhibit C: "Yo, Ms. L, my hair is all wet!" Um, Little Man, why is your hair all wet? "I don't know." Then my assistant walks in, shaking his head. Apparently Little Man decided to put his head in the urinal. I then told him I was going to have to write a note to his mother, as she would need to know his head was crawling with germs. He began throwing a huge fit about how I was the meanest person in the world.

Exhibit D: I had a huge meeting this AM and had no time for planning, so I was flying by the seat of my pants for a little while. Then? I forgot I'm out tomorrow for another meeting, meaning I have to write sub plans. Awesome. There goes all my planning time, which I need to begin planning the 8 week class I'm teaching before school to 3rd, 4th, and 5th graders.

I suppose the bright spot is I don't have to hang out with germ-invested children tomorrow.

Really? Sticking your head in a urinal. Not cool.

Dear MTV...

Dearest MTV,

Jersey Shore? It's a train wreck. Total train wreck. I'm not sure how you expect me to comprehend what is going on when every other word out of their mouths has to be bleeped. Seriously? Train wreck.

And I just can't turn away.

Darn you, MTV. You are rotting my brain!

XOXOXO,
ME

It's dark..

We lost power about an hour and a half ago.. and it just came back on.

Hubby and I had to figure out how to entertain ourselves. We figured an ice cream run was the best way.

Seriously, how did people ever survive without power? I mean.. no internet? no tv? no radio? no microwave? Thank goodness we no longer have to worry about a well because, well.. that would mean you have to be conservative on the bathroom trips, and who am I kidding? The glass, er two, at dinner? They would go right through me.. I'd be a peeing banshee!

Wait, was that too much information? Oops. My bad.

Things I Cannot Stand...

Recently, it's come to my attention (from hubby) that I have a few strange things that I often comment that I cannot stand. I'm going to list them and then rationalize or attempt to explain why I cannot stand them.

• People who fertilize their lawns. Please, do more to pollute the groundwater. After all, if I don't get poisoned by it, my children or grandchildren might. So thanks in advance for that.
• People who drive slowly in the "fast lane". Come on. I want to travel faster than you are currently driving. Please get over. Now.
• Drivers who have their music so loud that I can hear it in my car with my windows up. News flash! Not everyone shares your taste in music. I want to listen to the music playing on my radio, not the music you are blaring.
• The man at Borders who always tells me I gave him the wrong number. He waits until I'm finished to start typing in the number. HELLO, dude.. if you wait until I'm finished rattling off the numbers, the higher YOUR chances become of screwing up the phone number. I'm not a complete moron. I know my freakin' phone number.
• People who water their lawns. Allow me to explain... I think it's horrible to waste water, especially perfectly good drinking water. If you use rain water or run-off, I'm okay with your choice. I just cannot stand that people waste water to water their lawns. I would like to have something to drink in the future. Thanks. And yes, my parents fall into this category and they are VERY well aware of my stance on it.
• Dog owners who do not pick up after their dogs in public places. HELLO! Dogs have business they do. Because you take them to an alternative location to do it, does not mean that you do not have to pick it up. There are children who run around in those public areas, then step in it, and then bring it to school and kindly ask their teacher to help them clean off their shoes. Thanks a lot, jerkface dog owner.
• People who wash their cars in their driveway. This goes along with the people who fertilize and water their lawns... those chemicals? They lead to the storm drain. The storm drain then leads to the local water sources (in my case, the Chesapeake Bay) or into the ground water. Again, you're poisoning me. Thanks.

Whew. I feel better getting that off my chest. If I offended you in any of my items, don't take it personally... or change your habits. I kid, I kid. (Kind of)

Something's Up..

Something is just not right. I'm having the same symptoms as Monday night when I went to the ER and they said it was a panic attack.

My pulse is crazy fast and I just don't feel right.

Here's to hoping I don't choke in my sleep or something.