If one more child asks me if I'm pregnant, I'm going to quit the teaching profession all together! I know I've gained a little weight, I know I'm not in the best shape, but seriously! I don't even look kind of pregnant! I'm just fat.
And, it's not like most of my students don't have fat mothers! I see them everyday picking up their children. . .
Yesterday, one little girl just skipped the whole pregnant question and asked: "Miss Queen, why are you so fat?"
I'm, like, 15 pounds overweight. AND. . .we don't live in L.A. I'm still in the thin category amongst employees at this school, so why is everybody picking on me?!!!
Maybe it's a sign. A sign that children hate me and want me to develop an eating disorder. But the joke's on them, because I already tried to develop an eating disorder and it didn't work! HA!
*sigh*
Maybe I should just give in and get myself knocked up.
Thursday, September 25, 2008
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
Just Remember, I Still Haven't Been Classified as Clinically Insane . . .
I know it's trendy to be a little OCD and everybody says that they are and we all go around pretending that we all have some sort of mental affliction when all most of us really want is attention.
I am not technically diagnosed with the OCD, although I do have some tendencies. However, I am a hypochondriac and nobody who knows me (even a little) will dispute that.
So, yesterday, I kept feeling like I had something in my throat. I coughed and coughed hoping to get it out. When I got home, I looked at my tonsils in the mirror and saw something white perched happily on my left tonsil. I remember BFF (a registered nurse, by the way) said that sometimes, after you've had a cold or a sinus infection these little white clumps can form on your tonsils and if they don't go away in a couple of days, your breath might really start to stink. She also told me that you can actually just pick them off with, like, a q-tip or something.
Remembering these words as I looked at the white object on my tonsil, I embarked on a journey that was both terrifying and successful. For 45 minutes, I poked , prodded, tweezed, gagged, and coughed. I was determined to get this thing off of my tonsil!! Finally, I just stuck my finger back there and felt around until I dislodged it. . .and then swallowed it.
Now, I know what you're all thinking!!! That this is easily one of the most disgusting and disturbing stories you've ever heard me tell! And you're right. It is disgusting. But just imagine what it would be like to be my finger. . .and be thankful that you're not. I know that I am.
And if you're really wondering, it would have done no harm to just have left it alone. Allegedly, they go away on their own. But see, that's my point! I couldn't leave it alone.
So, the next time you drive back home from work just to make sure that you turned the oven off, or check your locks 10 times before you go to bed, just remember: at least you're not crazy enough to explore your tonsils with your finger, a q-tip, and a pair of tweezers.
And then, feel sorry for me.
I am not technically diagnosed with the OCD, although I do have some tendencies. However, I am a hypochondriac and nobody who knows me (even a little) will dispute that.
So, yesterday, I kept feeling like I had something in my throat. I coughed and coughed hoping to get it out. When I got home, I looked at my tonsils in the mirror and saw something white perched happily on my left tonsil. I remember BFF (a registered nurse, by the way) said that sometimes, after you've had a cold or a sinus infection these little white clumps can form on your tonsils and if they don't go away in a couple of days, your breath might really start to stink. She also told me that you can actually just pick them off with, like, a q-tip or something.
Remembering these words as I looked at the white object on my tonsil, I embarked on a journey that was both terrifying and successful. For 45 minutes, I poked , prodded, tweezed, gagged, and coughed. I was determined to get this thing off of my tonsil!! Finally, I just stuck my finger back there and felt around until I dislodged it. . .and then swallowed it.
Now, I know what you're all thinking!!! That this is easily one of the most disgusting and disturbing stories you've ever heard me tell! And you're right. It is disgusting. But just imagine what it would be like to be my finger. . .and be thankful that you're not. I know that I am.
And if you're really wondering, it would have done no harm to just have left it alone. Allegedly, they go away on their own. But see, that's my point! I couldn't leave it alone.
So, the next time you drive back home from work just to make sure that you turned the oven off, or check your locks 10 times before you go to bed, just remember: at least you're not crazy enough to explore your tonsils with your finger, a q-tip, and a pair of tweezers.
And then, feel sorry for me.
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
Absolutely Unstable
I have problems. This is not new news. When I'm busy and I don't have time to bother with my instability, everything just hums along! However, when I'm not busy and I'm feeling sorry for myself, AND my Man Out of Jail (MOOJ) might have said some slightly insensitive things, a trifecta occurs...or maybe more like a perfect storm...
Let's take this weekend for instance: MOOJ was back home from his traveling job, and although we had seen each other just the weekend before, I expected that he would want to spend time with me. Hardly. He wanted to spend time with his "boys" since he hadn't seen them in two weeks. Fine. Whatev. I'll find my own stuff to do that will be BETTER and COOLER!
Well, Saturday night, I came down with a nasty head cold. That's when the real problem began.
You see, when I get sick, as happens at least 3 times a year, I throw a big fat pity party for myself. I think about how alone I am and how I always have to take care of myself and what crappy friends I have because they're not psychic and they can't telepathically discover that I'd like a cup of tea and a hot bowl of chicken noodle soup.
Now, add a touch of testosterone-filled boyfriend hanging out with his "boys" and sit back and watch the fireworks commence!
Oh, it was bad. . .and histrionic. I was in rare form. I was angry, I was sad, I was vengeful, I actually contemplated calling an ex-boyfriend (that I hate) just to try and make MOOJ jealous!! Euripedes couldn't have written a scene more dramatic. The text messages I composed, the voice mails I left, some of them barely comprehesible, were, at best, not suggestive of reasonability.
I'm crazy. And whilst I'm going through an particularly unstable period, I just can't manage to keep it to myself. I first have to direct all my irrational insecurities to my significant other, and then I freely express them to whomever will answer their phone when I call.
You would think, that after nearly three decades of having to deal with myself, I'd learn to lock myself in a room, with only a TV and an Agatha Christie book (possibly a journal also (to be burned shorly after my release)), only to come out when the period of instability has passed. But no. That's not what I do.
I am an evangelical witness to my own dysfunction.
While you may not be able to empathize with my problem, surely you will sympathize with me! Please, please feel sorry for me! Please! I promise I'll invite you to my next pity party. . .and let you fix my soup.
Yours eternally for infinity,
Queen, III
Let's take this weekend for instance: MOOJ was back home from his traveling job, and although we had seen each other just the weekend before, I expected that he would want to spend time with me. Hardly. He wanted to spend time with his "boys" since he hadn't seen them in two weeks. Fine. Whatev. I'll find my own stuff to do that will be BETTER and COOLER!
Well, Saturday night, I came down with a nasty head cold. That's when the real problem began.
You see, when I get sick, as happens at least 3 times a year, I throw a big fat pity party for myself. I think about how alone I am and how I always have to take care of myself and what crappy friends I have because they're not psychic and they can't telepathically discover that I'd like a cup of tea and a hot bowl of chicken noodle soup.
Now, add a touch of testosterone-filled boyfriend hanging out with his "boys" and sit back and watch the fireworks commence!
Oh, it was bad. . .and histrionic. I was in rare form. I was angry, I was sad, I was vengeful, I actually contemplated calling an ex-boyfriend (that I hate) just to try and make MOOJ jealous!! Euripedes couldn't have written a scene more dramatic. The text messages I composed, the voice mails I left, some of them barely comprehesible, were, at best, not suggestive of reasonability.
I'm crazy. And whilst I'm going through an particularly unstable period, I just can't manage to keep it to myself. I first have to direct all my irrational insecurities to my significant other, and then I freely express them to whomever will answer their phone when I call.
You would think, that after nearly three decades of having to deal with myself, I'd learn to lock myself in a room, with only a TV and an Agatha Christie book (possibly a journal also (to be burned shorly after my release)), only to come out when the period of instability has passed. But no. That's not what I do.
I am an evangelical witness to my own dysfunction.
While you may not be able to empathize with my problem, surely you will sympathize with me! Please, please feel sorry for me! Please! I promise I'll invite you to my next pity party. . .and let you fix my soup.
Yours eternally for infinity,
Queen, III
Wednesday, September 03, 2008
Phoning It In
Today, I'm barely teaching. It's awesome! I can't believe I get paid to do this sometimes. Although, my afternoons are usually pretty hectic, thanks to all those little monsters who still need to be in diapers. I guess I shouldn't complain, though, because right now I'm blogging while my class is quietly working on a project I made up on the fly. I didn't come to school prepared today, not in the least, but you couldn't tell it from how "engaged" my students are.
"Engaged" is the new buzz word in education. We LOVE to use the word "engaged" now. Are your students engaged in this conversation, engaged in this lesson, engaged to you? Ha! Just kidding...but in some circumstances, it would be a valid question.
The only thing I have to worry about today is what the cafeteria is serving for lunch. I really hope it's nachos.
"Engaged" is the new buzz word in education. We LOVE to use the word "engaged" now. Are your students engaged in this conversation, engaged in this lesson, engaged to you? Ha! Just kidding...but in some circumstances, it would be a valid question.
The only thing I have to worry about today is what the cafeteria is serving for lunch. I really hope it's nachos.
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