Confessions

Today is the day that I spill all! Some of you may already know all of this, but some may not. However, it's just too juicy for me to hold it in!!
So here they are, listed out for you, all my dirty little secrets of the past few weeks. (There are two.)

(We all saw this one coming, I'm sure.)

1. I am increasingly obsessed with T.O. I read every article about him, scour every headline, and when the sports writers aren't constantly talking about him, I'm offended! I, of course, recognize that I have a serious problem. Celebrities are typically pretty gross people. T.O.'s no exception to the rule!! What is wrong with me?! I've even gone so far as to let myself have ridiculous fantasies about him!! Not, horribly graphic fantasies or even sinful ones...but they can't be too far away!!

(It's not sinful to want to just touch those washboard abs, is it?)

Seriously, I have a problem! When I read stories about him, I find myself thinking ridiculous things like, "He's just misunderstood" or "I don't really like Donovan McNabb anyway" or "He probably was really mistreated in Philly" or "He's so talented and everyone else is just jealous." WHAT?!!! Can you believe that I entertain such ridiculous thoughts?! What the h-e-double hockey sticks is wrong with me?

2. I have....wait for it...signedupforanonlinedatingservice. Did you catch all that? No? Okay. I have signed up for an online dating service. WHAT?!!! YOU DID WHAT?! I know, I know. But I was bored with all the free time I had since the breakup. I had to do SOMETHING, or I'd just mope around all day, thinking about how I, once upon a time, had a boyfriend. And, let me tell you-it has been VERY interesting! There is a wide range of men who find me interesting:

From cute and not such a loser:

To old and creepy and obviously a HUGE loser:

This might seem like a dangerous endeavor, but never fear! You don't actually HAVE to go out on a date with anyone...and if you do, you just don't let them come to your house, or give them your social security number! But so far, it's proven to be an effective way to feed myself, as most of the men so far have paid for everything...um...I mean food, of course...they've paid for all the food I've eaten!! (Geez! Even I'm not THAT skanky!) And my date book is full up! Friday I have a date to the symphony, Saturday I have a date to eat sushi, Sunday I have a date to a Mavericks game and Tuesday I have a date with an Investment Banker! Let's just hope I don't get fat!

So, there you have it, my juicy confessions. I feel so much better now!

I need a new drug

My allergy medicine is making me feel like I'm three sheets to the wind! I don't even know how I'm managing to type this post, because I feel so doped, I can barely blink my eyes without my head falling over.

I have to teach small children today and I think that any minute now, my head will come crashing to the keyboard as I fall into a drug-induced slumber/slight coma.

Me: Today class, we'll be stu...(head hits desk.)

Students: (after pausing tensly) Miss Rice? Miss Rice?!

(There is no reply. Julio gets up to try and awaken me.)

Julio: She won't get up. I guess we'll just use her cell phone to call the cute paramedics.

(Cute paramedics arrive.)

Cute paramedic 1: Miss Rice, what illegal substances have you been taking?

Me: What? No! I haven't been taking anything! Except for my allergy medicine, but that's it!! I swear! It's my allergy medicine! I passed out because of my allergy medicine. I'm very sensitive, you know. (I purse my lips, just in case he pities me in a sort of "I want to go out with you" way.)

Cute paramedic 2: We've heard it all before, Miss Rice. Book her, Danno.

Me: When the hell did Danno get here?! I thought Julio just called the cute paramedics!

Julio: I accidently dialed Hawaii 5-0 before I called 911. Sorry.

So, you see, this could get ugly - very, very ugly! I hope I sober up....uh... I mean... I hope this allergy medicine wears off soon, or I could be in for a cute, but unpleasant surprise!

Cute paramedic?

My Little Patrick

Just like in Auntie Mame, where everyone thinks that Patrick is just a phase she's going through and that she's too irresponsible to raise a child, so it is with me and the new addition to my spinsterhood, Taraji. However, I will show them all (my mother) by what an amazingly well-adjusted dog I am raising! And he's cute to boot!I think that the pictures will speak for themselves!

T.O.'s coming home to mama!

That's right. Many of you may remember my long musing about Terrell Owens just a few months ago. Many of you probably came to the same conclusion: I love him - in a very obsessive, unhealthy, unrealistic way. He is a terrible man and probably not a very good person, but I don't care. I love him, even though I know I'm only talking to myself and not to him when the night is over.

So, you can imagine my clearly obsessive emotion when, whilst opening my AOL account on Saturday, the Cowboys franchise sent me an email with the title: "T.O. now a Dallas Cowboy." My heart started beating rapidly and my breath was short. Could it be? Could it be that T.O. might be 500 steps closer to actually playing on my team?! Sure, Dallas is a big place, and sure I have no professional sports connections, and sure I have never met a Dallas Cowboy ever in my life, but a girl can dream, can't she?!

I mean, doesn't it seem just a little coincidental that I break up with my boyfriend and less than a month later, T.O. shows up? What are the odds? (Please don't tell me - I want to believe they're like 1 in a million.) I'm so happy!!

I realize that all of Dallas is a flutter becuase T.O. is so cantankerous, blah, blah, blah, but he's an excellent and very, very attractive football player and isn't that what it's really about? Assembling a team of really, really hot...uh...I mean talented players?

Oh, T.O. You've come to the right place. No one can love ya' like mama can!

Ev'rything's alright - except for Yanni

Everything's alright between me and ex-darling guy! Amazing, no?! I feel like Gwen Stefani and the drummer of No Doubt, except I'm not famous or rich...but who knows...it could happen...maybe!
A girl's gotta keep on movin' on!
Now on to more entertaining things:
Yanni was arrested for alleged domestic abuse! Who knew Yanni even had a girlfriend! I thought for sure he had to be gay! But then, maybe that's the problem.

and so it goes

It's over for me and Darling Guy. We'll be friends, though, as soon as I put the pieces of my heart back together. I'm fighting the urge to go live my life as a dairy maid and die broken-hearted on the alter of Stone Henge. Damn you, Thomas Hardy!
If you're the praying kind, pray that miraculously, we can salvage our amazing friendship and that my heart heals quickly.
Thanks!
Yours always,
Tess of the D'Ubervilles

this is me, fighting the urge to sacrifice myself to the tragic Thomas Hardy gods

Why I have to go out with my ex-boyfriend

Love is grand isn't it? No! It's not. I'm so, so sick of all! Let me tell you why: Men never act rightly when they are supposed to. Treat her right when she's your girlfriend - not after you've already broken up!

Madeline Kahn was also sick and tired of love.

Soooo, my darling not-really-my-boyfriend-but-we-still-go-out-on-dates-we-just-don't-make-out guy, aka, the owner and sole proprietor of Kinesiology Solutions, had a brilliant idea one day. He claims he's not the jealous type (although I find this highly suspect), so to illustrate his point, he, whilst I wasn't looking, chose to aggrivate an already sensitive subject by taking it upon himself to send a text message to my ex-boyfriend. Now, he didn't just out of the blue send this text message. I confided in him that my ex-boyfriend was not leaving me alone, finding every excuse to call or send a text message. Just at that very moment, ex-boyfriend sent a text message. I was annoyed and left the room. It was at this point, my darling now-not-really-boyfriend guy picked up my phone, and sent a text message in reply to my ex-boyfriend's message. It read, "Ahh thanks, babe! You're so sweet! And don't forget about our dinner!"

A few minutes later, I heard my phone beep, alerting me to a new message. I had no idea what had happened. I say, "Darling Guy, will you see who that is?" Darling says I've gotten a text message. He shows me. I read it: "Oh, I won't forget! I'll call you soon so we can go to lunch." I'm confused. "What?" I say. "But that doesn't make any sense. I didn't send him a message."
"Yes, you did," Darling says. "Here, let me show you."
He scrolls through my sent messages and pulls one up - the one HE sent ex-boyfriend.
"But, I didn't...wait a minute...YOU SENT HIM A TEXT MESSAGE!!!!!" I screamed.

Now I admit, I've played my share of great tricks on Darling Guy, some pretty damn good ones, too. So, I probably deserved this. This was, in fact, his first retalliation, and they say that revenge is a dish best served cold, so Kudos, Darling Guy. Excellent trick. But in the meantime, I have to deal with an ex-loser-boyfriend who thinks I want him back.

This is where I start to lose it. And I mean LOSE IT!!!!!!

A photo of my ex-boyfriend and me, taken just before the break-up.

You see, dear readers, I invested 2 long years in ex-loser-boyfriend. I encouraged him, was devoted to him, was understanding, and I tried to help him achieve important goals. For instance, I encouraged him to go back to school. I even tutored him through his remedial math class - both times he took it. With my help he passed it the SECOND time. I tried to help him see the importance of God and church, and I tried to get him to see why, at 32 years of age, he needed to stop living off of his parents money. I tried. I worked. I begged. I cried. For 2 years. And for 2 years, he never made one single concession for me. He never adjusted his schedule, never went out of his way, never made any sort of sacrifice. He never took off from his $7.50 an hour receptionist job at 24-hour fitness to come support me in any of my endeavors. When I was going to run a half-marathon for Leukemia, he said that he couldn't come because it was too early in the morning. When my Grandmother was dying, he didn't want to have to drive his precious Mustang to the airport 5 miles away to take me to get a rental car because my car was in the shop and offered to get me a cab. (He changed his mind when I threw the phone book at him.) I tell you all this to tell you that ex-loser-boyfriend is entitled to nothing from me.

You see, I thought that once I made it sound like I didn't really want to go out to eat with him, he would just let it go. But, he hasn't. I'm too busy to go on a date, and definately too busy go out with someone I don't even like! Lately, he hasn't been asking whether or not I would LIKE to go eat with him, he's been demanding to know WHEN I will go with him. There's no asking. Like he can tell me what to do. And what's more, he's even generously offered to SWITCH SHIFTS WITH SOMEONE so he can more accomodate my schedule!!!! Now he wants to act right. Now.

This is how I feel.

This is where I get angry. Where does he get off? He had 2 years to act right! 2 long, long years of my life to treat me the way I deserved to be treated. He failed. Miserably. And now, after I've moved onward and upward, he thinks he can have me back. Just like that. He can tell me what to do and demand things from me. I'm so, so fed up!

But, a true mad spinster uses these little idiotic men to her advantage. I'm going to go out with ex-loser-boyfriend - to the restaurant of my choice - an expensive restaurant of my choice. And order the most expensive thing on the menu. Then, just so he won't be inconvenienced, I'm going to take a cab home. The end. He deserves to suffer a little, and I plan on being the one to deliver the suffering.

You can call me cruel if you want. I prefer to be called, "Deliverer of Justice."

Madeline Kahn - my hero. And a true deliverer of justice. You can see her here, delivering.

i had a great blog

but I accidently deleated it. I'm too deflated to do it again. Maybe I'll have the energy tomorrow.

Waiting

For those of you used to my light, funny entries, you may want to skip this one...it's going to be a little heavy. I'm in a bit of a Thomas Hardy mood: hopelessly and endlessly tragic. You see, dear readers, life isn't always easy. Sometimes we make huge mistakes. Sometimes we ignore our own wisdom and do not what is wise, but what is immediately gratifying. Why can I not get my life together? I refuse myself nothing. I take what I want when I want. The result? Broken relationships. Debt. Stress. Ugliness. And worst of all, a huge discrepancy between what I COULD do and what I AM doing.

I know that I'm not the only one, but I always fancied myself above this kind of stumbling. Part of growing up is learning that you're just as suceptible to failure and humility as the next Joe Blo. It's a painful and humbling process. I guess that's why they call it growing pains. To achieve something great in this world, we must accept things that are not natural for us to accept: sacrifice and patience.

Often I wonder what Jesus thought on his path to die. Not that we can ever match Jesus' perfection, but maybe he was giving us an example of what we all have to do to achieve our potential. What a failure he would have been if he had said no to God! Where would we be? What would we be? (Don't say Jewish.)

And the waiting must have been the hardest part, knowing that pain and suffering were what awaited him. But, they were temporary. It's hard for me to see the light through the pain, even when greatness is promised. Can it be time now? Can I summon the strength to endure the pain of sacrifice so that I may become something greater than what I am? I hope so. I guess now would be a good time to summon that power stronger than my own will, the same power that kept Jesus putting one foot in front of the other.

Paint Week

This is me, recovering from Paint Week.




So, nobody's heard from me in a while. That's because I'm still recovering from paint week. 2 weeks ago. What they want you to believe is that children learning and being creative is a very quiet, serene process, like this picture here:




But, it's a lie! All of it. When you bring out the paint, children, who are already prone to be maniacs, turn into super-sized maniacs, commiting crimes you never thought possible for children. Suddenly, I felt as if I was in a scene from this movie:

I never thought I'd have to say, "Xandria, do NOT paint Jose!" to sixth graders. And surely children know how to wash their hands, right? Wrong. Surely they know not to deliberately dump tempera paint on the floor, right? Wrong again.
This was also the week the entire school had to run out of paper towels. I'm not joking.

This, my friends, is the stuff of greek tragedies.
Somehow, someway, I managed NOT to gouge my eyes out or drive my cousin to suicide or kill my mother or kill myself, or accidently drink some poison. But, it was a close call.

Now, it's don't talk at all week, a.k.a. express yourself silently week. See, I'm learning.

Sick, Sick, Sick

For the second time this month, I've been sick, sick as a dog. This time it was the stomach flu. God bless me. On my birthday, too. Yuck. Anyway, I'm better now, however, I still don't feel like eating a bunch of queso.

Ahh, Mexico

I realize that there's an illegal immigration problem here in this great nation, and I'm not saying that all my immigrant students are illegal, but I know that there are some. Legal or illegal, I'm noticing that all my little Mexican students are WONDERFUL! Most of the little ones are still learning English and sometimes still don't know when they're speaking English or Spanish, but they are the most polite, most eager, most sharing, happy, generous students I have ever had. It's phenomenal! There are times when my classroom is complete paradise. Especially when I have a classroom full of native Mexican students...wonder what that says about Americans. I don't know for sure, but what I do know is that I'm beginning to appreciate Mexico more and more!

Hallelujah! I'm back!

Oh, It's been a long and turny road! Finally I have internet and computer access at my new job!! Took long enough! I've been pretty awful about keeping up my blog these last few months. But, let me tell you, these last few months have NOT been a walk in the park! It's a miracle I made it through. My part time job had been taking up all my extra time...and some more...then my new job is a lot of hard work. The good news is, however, I LOVE it!! It's fabulous! Teaching elementary art could be the funnest thing ever! Even when the kids are bad it's still kind of fun. Now, don't think that I have it all together. I still have a long way to go, but so far, so good. Most of my little students are precious. They say lots of funny things! Most of which I wish to tell you about right here!

So far, here's the best one:

We were studying this Georgia O'Keefe painting, talking about the element of line. Most of the children ooohed and ahhhed at the pretty colors, etc. One of my more advanced classes really liked the painting. After talking a little about it, I gave them an assignment and told them to get to work. One little girl, a 4th grader, pulled me aside:

"Umm...Miss Rice...not to be rude, but that looks like a woman's v@$in@."

I, of course had been thinking this the whole time, but figured elementary students wouldn't pick up on Georgia O'Keefe's inappropriateness.

"I know," I said. "Let's not bring it up."

More to come!!!

Ahhh, family

This blog will be short. All I have to say is, my brother LOVES to moon people, but what is most disturbing is that his butt gets hairier and hairier every time I see him...or see his butt. But I guess that every time I see him, I see his butt, too. It's disgusting. I'm proud to say that I'm virtually hairless - just in case anyone was wondering.

I suck.

So, I have a new job, but I won't get paid in over a month! I hope I don't have to resort to part-time work on Harry Hines! Anyway, the point is that I suck. I have time to keep blogging, but I don't. I suck. And, to top it off, I don't have internet access just yet on my computer at school...sooooo...I guess what I'm trying to say is that blogging isn't half as much fun if it isn't done while you should be working. Who knew?! But before we know it, I should be back on schedule, but until then forgive me for being so...ummm...how shall I put it...sucky.

In Response to my Childish Behavior

So, many of my fans (all two of them) have been wondering where I've gone. So, here it is, the bold, naked truth: I got fired. Well, kind of. The real truth is I got laid-off, but since those words were never used in my firing meeting, I won't misrepresent what went down. You ask, "So what was it that finally got you fired? Your two hour lunches, your lack of work, your negative attitude?" No! It was none of those! The reason I was given for my employers letting me go was that "we're not on the same wavelength." Bizarre. I felt like I was being dumped. But in true Queen fashion, I wasn't gonna go down without out a fight. I brought up the fact that the work I WAS given - I did efficiently. I also reminded them of how I asked for work nearly everyday and let EVERYONE know of my light work load - and nothing was done. "Oh, well, you know, the insurance comanies have been really selective with the work that they give out." Whatev. What's really happening is they're about to go out of business and I'm low man on the totem pole, so I get booted first. But, you see, no one will admit that at an evil law firm.
The good news is that I have a new job and teaching elementary art! Score! What fun! I start in January. In the meantime, though, I have to work a craptasitc retail job - it's better than waiting tables.
I'll try to keep my blog updated because I love you all, so, so, so a lot...all two of you.

Childish behavior

I'm sure we all know that many children who need attention will do whatever it takes to get it - even if it's negative. This is especially true of those who have tried to get positive attention and haven't gotten it. Desperate, they resort to all manner of things just to be noticed.

"How does she know all of this?" you may ask. Well, it is because it is what I'm currently doing right now at my job. No one notices me - which is hard for an attention-whore like me, so I've been resorting to not-so-ethical behavior to a) cope with the boredome and b) to try and get someone to notice me.

It's not working. You wouldn't believe the kinds of things I do that no one says anything about!! Often I take lunches that are OVER an hour. I won't confess how long, but it could be shocking. I've read almost every story on the crime library website. I'm seldomly exactly on time to work...I won't say how NOT exactly. And I don't do very much. To my defense however, there isn't much to do.

No one ever says anything to me - ever. It's phenomenal! It's like I have lepresy. They don't say anything because they just don't want to have to look at my disgusting disease. They just avoid me altogether, even if I am ill-behaved.

So, I'm gonna keep on keepin' on! Maybe someday they'll notice me, maybe they won't. Who knows? Maybe someday I'll get an agent.

Anna Nicole: white trash or legal mastermind?

Let's face it. There's something strangely alluring about Anna Nicole Smith, but at the same time, there's also something completely revolting about her.

She has the potential, as we've all seen, to be a classic beauty, even with the fake boobs. But, thanks to her reality show, we know that when she opens her mouth, she makes us all want to throw things at her! How is it possible that someone who is this beautiful in pictures is so completely disgusting in real life?! Or...is it all a cleverly planned game to assure a ridiculous fortune she feels she deserves because she married a 90-year-old billionaire?

I watched a whole special on it last night. I don't think that Anna is as nearly clueless as she appears to be. By watching her, you'd swear she was crazy, but as the reporter said last night, maybe she's just "crazy like a fox." And there is something admirable in her ability to remain in the spotlight. Maybe she's a credit to small-town Texas girls. I mean, sure she was a stripper and possibly a gold digger, but she sure is resourceful!

Anna Nicole's case against her late billionaire husband's children will be heard before the Federal Supreme Court. Crazy, huh? Who knows, maybe she'll get something when it's all said and done. She should get a little something, I think. She deserves it! Sure, she probably was motiviated to love him because of his billions of dollars, but it's not like he didn't get anything from it...if you know what I mean. I wouldn't do it. Not even for a billion dollars. So, maybe instead of judging ol' Anna, we should be raising our glasses. She saw an opportunity and she took it. It got her out of the strip club and kept clothes on her son's back. She's not noble or anything like that, but she is a survivor. And there is something admirable (even just a little) about those who go down swingin'.

Blah de blah, blah, blah

So, last night I went to a friend's play. He was great in it! But the play...left much to be desired.

I don't understand how the writers of post-modern crap are making ANY money, but they do. People buy their stuff because they think it's experimental and good. But, it's crap. Pure crap. I'm all for being silly and sometimes not making any sense, but I would never write the nonsense of my life down on paper, then add some crazy mess like squids and plastic owls and blind milk maids and try and pass it off as literature! It's sinful what the post-modernists are doing to this art we call theatre.

First of all, the general populous finds theatre unappealing when compared to movies and instead of doing anything about our dying art, we write a bunch of crap that no one can understand and only crazy people like! This is doing nothing for the advancement of theatre. We have it within our power to bring art to the common people, but we choose to make it too hard for anyone to understand, thereby alienating over 50% of our population. THEN, as if that isn't enough, we're snotty about how "the stupid people" just don't understand our complex art. Twidlywinks!! We could make our art accessible, but we don't. We could write about universal truths that speak to all men, but we don't (at least not always). And we wonder why substanceless musicals are so popular...it's because they're turning into the only kind of theatre that's accessible and entertaining!

When did the theatre become such an elitest club? We have a history of being gypsies and pirates, sailors and whores. Why are we trying to act like we all belong in the governer's mansion? I'm sick of it! I just want to be entertained.

Why Terrell Owens Should Play for MY Team

Okay, okay...we all know how I love the black man. That's no secret. So, I'm a checkerboard chick, what can I say? It's not a crime, you know.

I'm also a fan of football...players. Don't get me wrong - I like the game a lot, too. What isn't appealing about big, muscular men in tight, translucent pants, hitting each other and showing off their brute strength? Also, much like the Romans, I enjoy violence. Not bloody gore - I'm not that bad - but all the same, I do enjoy controlled violence for entertainment purposes. Especially when I'm not directly involved. Sooooo, I like football. I'm an especial fan of the T.O....Terrell Owens that is. I don't know exactly what position he plays, but I know that he's good and has a very attractive outer shell. But, he's an idiot. And a trouble maker.

The thing is, he's no spring chicken, so the NFL knows that he's a loudmouthed trouble-maker. It's common knowledge. He's conceited and obnoxious. But he's good. 100 career touchdowns good.

It seems to me that, no franchise could hire him and expect him to change. His behaviour is much like that of a preschooler. And what did we learn in our psychology classes about childish behavior? It's usually done to get attention, so sometimes, if you ignore it, it goes away. But every time T.O. does something idiotic, EVERYONE gets their panties in a wad and T.O. gets exactly what he wants, and his behaviour gets worse.

This is my solution to the problem: ignore him. Remember the Mrs. Piggle Wiggle solution for the kid who couldn't stop showing off? She gave him invisible powder that caused him to become invisible every time he started showing off. It worked. And it can work for T.O., too.

Isn't obvious that I should be called in to solve the problem that is T.O.? I can't believe they haven't called me yet. Maybe I should call him...does anyone know his number?

Here's the latest of the saga.