Me, thinking this was some scripting thing I didn't know about: What's the Golden Touch?
Child 1: That's when you touch something and it turns to gold!
I want that, too.
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
Out of the Mouth of Babes 26
Child 1, out of nowhere: I want the Golden Touch!!
Me, thinking this was some scripting thing I didn't know about: What's the Golden Touch?
Child 1: That's when you touch something and it turns to gold!
I want that, too.
Me, thinking this was some scripting thing I didn't know about: What's the Golden Touch?
Child 1: That's when you touch something and it turns to gold!
I want that, too.
Monday, May 30, 2011
My first vlog! Well, actually not really.
I've got some blogging buddies who have been bugging the shit out of me to make a vlog (video blog). Yeah, that is so not gonna happen, sisters. I've got a face that's perfect for radio and anonymous blogging, no damn way any of you are gonna see it. (I can't help but notice that the one person who has been bugging me the most is really fucking hot. Don't think I didn't notice that about you, Jess).
Okay, so Saturday night I was drunk (I KNOW, right?????) and decided to make a video of me playing Rock Band. There's no bass part in this song so hubs held the camera. Before you watch it, though, some disclaimers: Did I mention I was drunk? So, yeah, this isn't really my best work. In fact, it kind of sucks. I wasn't breathing right and there's a bit of slurring that you can actually hear in the singing, and I didn't even get 100% on the song but I didn't feel like doing it a million times to get it right, so... fuck it. This is what you get. And if you're brave enough to make it all the way through there's a funny bit of drunken commentary from me at the very end.
Okay, so now that you've done that to yourself, how about a pity click for old time's sake?
Okay, so Saturday night I was drunk (I KNOW, right?????) and decided to make a video of me playing Rock Band. There's no bass part in this song so hubs held the camera. Before you watch it, though, some disclaimers: Did I mention I was drunk? So, yeah, this isn't really my best work. In fact, it kind of sucks. I wasn't breathing right and there's a bit of slurring that you can actually hear in the singing, and I didn't even get 100% on the song but I didn't feel like doing it a million times to get it right, so... fuck it. This is what you get. And if you're brave enough to make it all the way through there's a funny bit of drunken commentary from me at the very end.
Okay, so now that you've done that to yourself, how about a pity click for old time's sake?
Sunday, May 29, 2011
Paws 4 Thor
Hello loyal readers! This is from my Twitter buddy Erin. Please help support this very good cause if you can!!!!
PAWS 4 THOR
On April 14th, 2011 my 2 ½ year old son, Thor, was diagnosed with Autism, Sensory Processing Disorder, and Extreme Anxiety; he leads a life apart from others his age.
Thor's brain has difficulty processing the sensory information that he perceives; many times sights, sounds, smells, and touch can overwhelm him and even be painful. This usually leads to outbursts and a desire to flee the situation. Every moment of every day Thor fights against his natural tendencies to be afraid, anxious, or overwhelmed. He is only semi-verbal and does not respond to strangers or to his name being called if he were to wander or hide. He's run away in stores more times than I can count - hiding on shelves and behind counters, leaving me afraid and searching.
There are many issues that arise from Thor’s disabilities that make living each day difficult for Thor and myself (a single parent). He must have his hand held constantly or be on a toddler “leash,” because his severe anxiety causes him to run away and hide when out in public. He also self injures - hitting, slapping, pinching or punching himself and even banging his head on hard surfaces.
Thor is also a loving child and has an infectious laugh. I strive every day to help him overcome the many obstacles he faces...one of the ways I can help him is by getting a specially trained Autism Service Dog through 4 Paws for Ability.Thor has been accepted into the Autism Service Dog program; but I must first complete the fundraising requirement for the non-profit agency that trains these dogs - 4 Paws for Ability eliminates a long waiting list by allowing their clients’ family, friends, and community to raise $13,000 (USD) to help cover some of the cost of extensive training service dogs require. I've reached 4% of my goal so far.
A service dog would allow Thor the ability to have more freedom when we are in public by having him tethered to the dog and being able to walk along side the dog, rather than being carried or strapped in a stroller. A service dog would also be able to track and retrieve Thor if he were to get away from me, comfort him when he is upset or having a meltdown, and keep him from dangerous activities and bad behaviors. It would give me another set of eyes to keep Thor safe.
4 Paws for Ability takes a child with Autism and all the difficulties they have with verbalization, communication, and social relationships and pairs them with a well trained service dog specifically trained to meet their unique needs; to create a consistency in the child's life as their dogs go every where that they go, even within places of public accommodation, and the educational system bringing along with them: consistency, stability, and calm reassurance that the feelings of anxiety or fear are not needed because their trusted buddy is by their side.
The 4 Paws for Ability website states, “We have discovered a magic that exists between children and dogs, a magic that can become a life-saving miracle for a child paired with one of our Autism Assistance Dogs.” You can help bring some magic to Thor’s life by making a tax deductible donation to 4 Paws for Ability in Thor’s name. Every donation helps and no donation amount is too small!
Links:
www.paws4thor.com
http://www.paws4thor.com/p/how-to-donate.html
http://www.paws4thor.com/p/what-is-autism-service-dog.html
www.facebook.com/paws4thor
www.twitter.com/paws4thor
On April 14th, 2011 my 2 ½ year old son, Thor, was diagnosed with Autism, Sensory Processing Disorder, and Extreme Anxiety; he leads a life apart from others his age.
Thor's brain has difficulty processing the sensory information that he perceives; many times sights, sounds, smells, and touch can overwhelm him and even be painful. This usually leads to outbursts and a desire to flee the situation. Every moment of every day Thor fights against his natural tendencies to be afraid, anxious, or overwhelmed. He is only semi-verbal and does not respond to strangers or to his name being called if he were to wander or hide. He's run away in stores more times than I can count - hiding on shelves and behind counters, leaving me afraid and searching.
There are many issues that arise from Thor’s disabilities that make living each day difficult for Thor and myself (a single parent). He must have his hand held constantly or be on a toddler “leash,” because his severe anxiety causes him to run away and hide when out in public. He also self injures - hitting, slapping, pinching or punching himself and even banging his head on hard surfaces.
A service dog would allow Thor the ability to have more freedom when we are in public by having him tethered to the dog and being able to walk along side the dog, rather than being carried or strapped in a stroller. A service dog would also be able to track and retrieve Thor if he were to get away from me, comfort him when he is upset or having a meltdown, and keep him from dangerous activities and bad behaviors. It would give me another set of eyes to keep Thor safe.
4 Paws for Ability takes a child with Autism and all the difficulties they have with verbalization, communication, and social relationships and pairs them with a well trained service dog specifically trained to meet their unique needs; to create a consistency in the child's life as their dogs go every where that they go, even within places of public accommodation, and the educational system bringing along with them: consistency, stability, and calm reassurance that the feelings of anxiety or fear are not needed because their trusted buddy is by their side.
The 4 Paws for Ability website states, “We have discovered a magic that exists between children and dogs, a magic that can become a life-saving miracle for a child paired with one of our Autism Assistance Dogs.” You can help bring some magic to Thor’s life by making a tax deductible donation to 4 Paws for Ability in Thor’s name. Every donation helps and no donation amount is too small!
Links:
www.paws4thor.com
http://www.paws4thor.com/p/how-to-donate.html
http://www.paws4thor.com/p/what-is-autism-service-dog.html
www.facebook.com/paws4thor
www.twitter.com/paws4thor
Friday, May 27, 2011
Wow
Just now I walked into the room and Child 1 came up to me and started rubbing my, uh... front... area. Like... all over.
I said "Um. Huh?" Because it was... you know... the front area.
He says "I'm doing this because I love you" and then ran out of the room.
I kid you not he fucking stopped me in my tracks. I wanted to cry.
Oh.
That's good stuff, right there. Y'know... despite the inappropriateness of it all....
I said "Um. Huh?" Because it was... you know... the front area.
He says "I'm doing this because I love you" and then ran out of the room.
I kid you not he fucking stopped me in my tracks. I wanted to cry.
Oh.
That's good stuff, right there. Y'know... despite the inappropriateness of it all....
This post will definitely bring CFS to my house
I have no idea how or why but for some reason Child 2's favorite song is Bodies by Drowning Pool. I've mentioned that fact once before; in an awesome way.
I've also mentioned before that hubs and I play a lot of Rock Band on the weekends. The Child is usually our dancer/roadie; he boogies his little tushie off in the most adorable way. It was just a matter of time that he insist that he play, too, and.... of course.... there was only one song he wanted to do.
It's really just too awesome not to share, I have to say, despite the fact that Child and Family Services will probably be paying us a visit later, due to the extreme inappropriateness of a 5 year old singing this song (lyrics here). He did the whole thing but this is just a snippet:
And how did he do, you wonder?
86%. On fucking expert. That's better than I do on some songs.
Today is Friday so we'll be doing it again tonight. I'll let you know if his score improves. (It probably will).
I've also mentioned before that hubs and I play a lot of Rock Band on the weekends. The Child is usually our dancer/roadie; he boogies his little tushie off in the most adorable way. It was just a matter of time that he insist that he play, too, and.... of course.... there was only one song he wanted to do.
It's really just too awesome not to share, I have to say, despite the fact that Child and Family Services will probably be paying us a visit later, due to the extreme inappropriateness of a 5 year old singing this song (lyrics here). He did the whole thing but this is just a snippet:
And how did he do, you wonder?
86%. On fucking expert. That's better than I do on some songs.
Today is Friday so we'll be doing it again tonight. I'll let you know if his score improves. (It probably will).
Monday, May 23, 2011
Farewell, Penguino
 |
| Penguino looked exactly like this. |
 |
| I like this one better, though |
On Sunday I took Child 2 and his buddy to a birthday party. They both got gift bags on their way out, both of which contained tiny little plastic baby penguins. The penguins were immediately named Penguino (pronounced Pen-GWEE-no. I guess these penguins were italian) and on the way home they fought a valiant battle in the backseat, complete with laser penises. No, I'm serious. They had penises that shot lasers.
After the friend was dropped off, Child 2 and I went to Safeway, where he sat in the cart, accompanied by Penguino. About 10 minutes after we had gotten home, however, he asks "Where is Penguino??"
Apparently Penguino had been left in the cupholder attached to the cart and was forgotten about. "We have to go back and find him!" he insisted, eyes welling up.
How can I resist a sad, teary child who just lost his new best friend? So, we got back in the car and went back to the store. On the way, I said "I just want you to be prepared for the possibility that we won't be able to find him." He was sad, but he understood.
Once there, the shopping cart was not in the place where we had left it so we had no choice but to look inside every cupholder attached to every shopping cart, both in the parking lot and inside the store.
And so we did. We were there for a while. We stopped everybody in the store, sometimes more than once, and we looked inside everybody's cupholder. Sadly, Penguino didn't turn up.
We ended up back in the parking lot, double checking the carts out there, and I asked him what he wanted to do.
He looked really sad, and he responded "I guess it's time for me to say goodbye to Penguino."
Um. Heart? Broken.
We got back in the car and went home. Once there, I opened the door for him and he sat there, still looking sad.
"I miss Penguino," he said.
"Oh, I'm so sorry, bud." I answered; I felt so bad for him.
"HEY! Can I go play with blocks now??" He asked.
And the moment was over.
I know I had said that I was going to blog the results of Friday night's Twitter group blog post party but so far I've been far too lazy to grab the transcript of the chat and put it into post form. Unless anybody wants to volunteer to take that on for me.....
image courtesy of stockimages / FreeDigitalPhotos.net
Sunday, May 22, 2011
Blog Gems - Air your Archives
Today I am happy to be hosting the fortnightly (hee hee!) Blog Gems, created by the wonderful Jen at The King and Eye. Jen is taking a break from blogging for some real life stuff and has asked her friends to help her out. Happy to help, Jen!!! Look below the line for the rules and the linky guy.
And this is what it's about:
How many posts do you have languishing in your archives? Great posts that will never be dusted off and brought out to breathe again! Maybe you created fabulous content before you had lots of followers, or maybe you have been blogging for years and your current followers haven't seen your older material.
Blog Gems - Air Your Archives is a fortnightly linky list where we will give a prompt and you select a post from your archives that fits the prompt. You do not have to create content for the prompt, unless you want to. All you have to do is copy and paste the url of the post into the linky list. Voila, an old post gets a second shot!
To take part:
1. Follow Jen's blog to get future Blog Gem posting information and linkys.
2. Grab the Blog Gem button and place it on your sidebar (html code here or above). Putting the button on your blog is not a dealbreaker, some people just don't like doing it and I have no problem with that at all. What I will say is that something like this can't be successful without 'word of mouth' so I would appreciate if you could find another way to let people know that this is available and they are welcome to join in.
3. Enter your link.
4. Read and comment on the submissions of the two blogs posted before you on the linky list. (Please!)
5. Help spread the word by telling your blogging friends, either by tweeting this or blogging about your entry.
For any newer bloggers don't worry if you have to link up posts that you have linked up before, it is very unlikely that you will end up with the same readers as last time so continue to join in and have fun. Many, many thanks to those of you that blog about Blog Gems, I really appreciate the links and help getting the meme 'out there'.
That was from Jen, this is from Jill:
Today is all about appreciation! The prompt will be for you to locate an old post that you think is AWESOME but that nobody else seemed to appreciate for some reason. Let's give them another shot!
And this is what it's about:
How many posts do you have languishing in your archives? Great posts that will never be dusted off and brought out to breathe again! Maybe you created fabulous content before you had lots of followers, or maybe you have been blogging for years and your current followers haven't seen your older material.
Blog Gems - Air Your Archives is a fortnightly linky list where we will give a prompt and you select a post from your archives that fits the prompt. You do not have to create content for the prompt, unless you want to. All you have to do is copy and paste the url of the post into the linky list. Voila, an old post gets a second shot!
To take part:
1. Follow Jen's blog to get future Blog Gem posting information and linkys.
2. Grab the Blog Gem button and place it on your sidebar (html code here or above). Putting the button on your blog is not a dealbreaker, some people just don't like doing it and I have no problem with that at all. What I will say is that something like this can't be successful without 'word of mouth' so I would appreciate if you could find another way to let people know that this is available and they are welcome to join in.
3. Enter your link.
4. Read and comment on the submissions of the two blogs posted before you on the linky list. (Please!)
5. Help spread the word by telling your blogging friends, either by tweeting this or blogging about your entry.
For any newer bloggers don't worry if you have to link up posts that you have linked up before, it is very unlikely that you will end up with the same readers as last time so continue to join in and have fun. Many, many thanks to those of you that blog about Blog Gems, I really appreciate the links and help getting the meme 'out there'.
That was from Jen, this is from Jill:
Today is all about appreciation! The prompt will be for you to locate an old post that you think is AWESOME but that nobody else seemed to appreciate for some reason. Let's give them another shot!
Friday, May 20, 2011
Happy Anniversary, hubs!!!
11 years ago today Hubs and I sat in the back of a limo at at drive-thru wedding chapel in Las Vegas and, uh... said some stuff that resulted in some sort of legal thingy. I don't really remember, I was drunk. I assume.
Somewhere in the world (our house) there exists our "wedding picture," which is the two of us, and our friends, standing in a transporter room of the Enterprise D, which they had built inside the Hilton in Las Vegas. (are you a TNG fan? I FOUND WHERE THE BATHROOMS WERE!!!!! Weren't you always wondering? No? Just me? Okay.) That picture was lost years ago, which is too bad, because if I had it I would totally show you. Really.
I'm not sure what the 11 year gift is, so I'm just going to assume vodka, and give that. HAPPY ANNIVERSARY, HUBS!!! I LOVE YOU!!!
Thursday, May 19, 2011
#GroupBlogPost Twitter party Friday 5/20
Disclaimer: I have a really shitty memory so it's possible that everything I'm about to say is complete bullshit. Just FYI
It was this past Sunday afternoon and I was, uh... well, I was fucking around on Twitter. (I KNOW, right?????) I couldn't think of anything to blog about and I announced that since my brain was empty I should probably just quit blogging.
But then my buddy Handflapper had an idea (yes, that's right, SHE is the brains of the operation here, people. If anybody has a problem with any of this it's totally her fault): Let's do that thing where one person says a line and then another person says another line and we make a whole story!
And an idea was born.... and subsequently struggled to breathe. I said let's do it! But you go first.
Handflapper started us off with "Once upon a time I had a really stupid idea and for some reason @jillsmo wanted to do it. #groupblogpost"
Then we heard some crickets chirping. Right through the computer screen! Weird.
So I tried again: "Line 1: I just friended you on Facebook #groupblogpost. GO!!!"
And then, well... other folks (btchygirls, BereftOfFeather, That_Biz, LLA_Princess) got involved and this is where things get a little hazy. I can't find the exact quotes because the tweetchat stream doesn't go back far enough, but there was something about a double row of boobs and a constipation face? I'm not entirely clear on the details.
But then the whole thing just fizzled out and it was over. Not enough for a post. And it sucked. (What? Most of that shit came from me, I can say it sucked. Because it sucked). It was, however, rather fun. And other people had lots of fun watching us act the fools.
So, I decided we should try again but this time on Friday during #wineparty, because that's when most of us will be around. And drunk. (Hee)
SO! Set your Twit clocks, people. Friday May 20th. 6pm Pacific Time, 9pm Eastern, some other time in some other location. Use the hashtag #GroupBlogPost. You don't need an invitation, you don't even need to have ever tweeted with any of us before in your entire lives, just jump on in! I will post whatever crap we end up with here on Monday. (Unless it sucks, in which case never mind..... but remember who to blame).
It was this past Sunday afternoon and I was, uh... well, I was fucking around on Twitter. (I KNOW, right?????) I couldn't think of anything to blog about and I announced that since my brain was empty I should probably just quit blogging.
But then my buddy Handflapper had an idea (yes, that's right, SHE is the brains of the operation here, people. If anybody has a problem with any of this it's totally her fault): Let's do that thing where one person says a line and then another person says another line and we make a whole story!
And an idea was born.... and subsequently struggled to breathe. I said let's do it! But you go first.
Handflapper started us off with "Once upon a time I had a really stupid idea and for some reason @jillsmo wanted to do it. #groupblogpost"
Then we heard some crickets chirping. Right through the computer screen! Weird.
So I tried again: "Line 1: I just friended you on Facebook #groupblogpost. GO!!!"
And then, well... other folks (btchygirls, BereftOfFeather, That_Biz, LLA_Princess) got involved and this is where things get a little hazy. I can't find the exact quotes because the tweetchat stream doesn't go back far enough, but there was something about a double row of boobs and a constipation face? I'm not entirely clear on the details.
But then the whole thing just fizzled out and it was over. Not enough for a post. And it sucked. (What? Most of that shit came from me, I can say it sucked. Because it sucked). It was, however, rather fun. And other people had lots of fun watching us act the fools.
So, I decided we should try again but this time on Friday during #wineparty, because that's when most of us will be around. And drunk. (Hee)
SO! Set your Twit clocks, people. Friday May 20th. 6pm Pacific Time, 9pm Eastern, some other time in some other location. Use the hashtag #GroupBlogPost. You don't need an invitation, you don't even need to have ever tweeted with any of us before in your entire lives, just jump on in! I will post whatever crap we end up with here on Monday. (Unless it sucks, in which case never mind..... but remember who to blame).
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
What do you want on your Tombstone?
Please tell me I'm not terribly dating myself by making that reference. That couldn't have been THAT long ago, right? RIGHT?
So, anyway... this morning, I'm digging through my underwear drawer (what? Doesn't every truly great blog post start with "I'm digging through my underwear drawer" ??) trying to find the stuff in the back because, let's face it, it was slim pickins in there. And I say out loud, to nobody in particular "God, I really need to do laundry."
And hubs, who was in the room at the time, chuckles this evil little snarly laugh thing and says "That will be your epitaph!"
I guess I say that a lot.
And I loudly proclaim "You, sir, are a magnificent bastard and that is a BRILLIANT idea!" Or something. I may have just snorted at him, I don't remember, it was first thing in the morning and I had Ace of Bass stuck in my head (seriously, brain? I mean... Ace of Bass? WTF???)
But then, as these things often go, I thought that might make a funny blog post! And surely I could easily find something online that would create a custom made tombstone for me?
Well, sure enough, not 2 clicks later I had found tombstonebuilder.com and went to work!
Or perhaps...
HEE HEE!!! This is fun! Imma make some more....
And then I asked The Twitter for some suggestions! Oddly, most of what I got was snarky people just fucking with me. Can you imagine? On TWITTER??? I did get a few good ones, though (and a shoutout to my friend CrunchyNavyWife whom I love and adore but, sadly, whose submission did not make the final cut.)
From TheNextMartha:
From Handflapper
From HuntersLyonesse
From my sister from another mister, Dawn
From CMarieGo (this is a reference to the very fascinating discussion we were having on The Twit about the Nursery Rhyme It's Raining, It's Pouring
From PrincessMuffintop (this one actually had a hashtag in it but there wasn't enough room)
Seriously, though, this is the epitaph I've always wanted. Somebody make a note!
So, anyway... this morning, I'm digging through my underwear drawer (what? Doesn't every truly great blog post start with "I'm digging through my underwear drawer" ??) trying to find the stuff in the back because, let's face it, it was slim pickins in there. And I say out loud, to nobody in particular "God, I really need to do laundry."
And hubs, who was in the room at the time, chuckles this evil little snarly laugh thing and says "That will be your epitaph!"
I guess I say that a lot.
And I loudly proclaim "You, sir, are a magnificent bastard and that is a BRILLIANT idea!" Or something. I may have just snorted at him, I don't remember, it was first thing in the morning and I had Ace of Bass stuck in my head (seriously, brain? I mean... Ace of Bass? WTF???)
But then, as these things often go, I thought that might make a funny blog post! And surely I could easily find something online that would create a custom made tombstone for me?
Well, sure enough, not 2 clicks later I had found tombstonebuilder.com and went to work!
Or perhaps...
HEE HEE!!! This is fun! Imma make some more....
And then I asked The Twitter for some suggestions! Oddly, most of what I got was snarky people just fucking with me. Can you imagine? On TWITTER??? I did get a few good ones, though (and a shoutout to my friend CrunchyNavyWife whom I love and adore but, sadly, whose submission did not make the final cut.)
From TheNextMartha:
From Handflapper
From HuntersLyonesse
From jillybeanerz
From my sister from another mister, Dawn
From CMarieGo (this is a reference to the very fascinating discussion we were having on The Twit about the Nursery Rhyme It's Raining, It's Pouring
From PrincessMuffintop (this one actually had a hashtag in it but there wasn't enough room)
Seriously, though, this is the epitaph I've always wanted. Somebody make a note!
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
Angry Birds. Stupid, angry, jerk birds.
I have a Blackberry. Thus far this fact has made me immune from the dual scourges known as Words With Friends and Angry Birds. Of course, this being the Information Age, that hasn't stopped me from being able to hear about said dual scourges (constantly. Thank you, Twitter.) (Off topic: One of the funniest tweets I've ever seen was from my Twit Bro @manplaid; I'm paraphrasing because I can't find it to copy and paste: "I feel sorry for our ancestors who used to have to wait weeks to find out if somebody was laughing out loud.")
A few weeks ago hubs informed me that Angry Birds was now available as a Chrome plug-in! Well, good, I said, because I use Firefox. I'm still safe! I went on with my life.
This weekend I switched to Chrome; mainly because Firefox recently forced me to upgrade and apparently the new version of Firefox and Twitter are not yet friends (I don't want to hear one word about Tweet Deck or Twhirl or Echofon or any of that shit. Not one fucking word) and I'm tired of looking at a completely blank page when I try to load Twitter (NOT. ONE. WORD.) And then on Saturday afternoon, I was bored (read: sober) when suddenly ... I remembered! Hey! I can play Angry Birds on this thing! Let's give it a try, shall we? Finally I can understand what the fuck The Oatmeal was talking about here.
Here's something I learned about myself very very quickly afterwards: I suck at Angry Birds. I mean... I am REALLY bad at it. My birds constantly go flying in all directions and practically NEVER hit those stupid smarmy fucking asshole pig things. It's actually quite funny. You know, if it didn't piss me off so much.
I quickly grew tired of playing Miss Pigs With Birds and went into the kitchen to make dinner (read: drink). Right before I left, however, Child 2 comes along and says "Hey! That looks fun! Can I play it?" So I say "sure!" and I start to explain to him how it works. "See, you drag the bird back and then try to aim it-"
"Yeah, yeah," he says, pushing me out of my chair, "I got it, I got it."
Whatever. Jerk kid. Show off. Mumble.
I'm in the kitchen no more than 5 fucking minutes (seriously), when Child 2 comes running into the room yelling "Mama! Mama!! I've already gotten past the level you were on when I started playing!!"
Are you fucking kidding me?? I was at that shit for at least a half hour, and you've been at it for five minutes and you're already better than me? Seriously????
I HATE Angry Birds. That game SUCKS.
FUCK YOU, BIRDS. You're not going to suck me in with your chirping shenanigans. You're dead to me, birds. DEAD.
Lemme just go practice a little more first, though....
(By the way... the juggling chick is back. Just sayin')
A few weeks ago hubs informed me that Angry Birds was now available as a Chrome plug-in! Well, good, I said, because I use Firefox. I'm still safe! I went on with my life.
This weekend I switched to Chrome; mainly because Firefox recently forced me to upgrade and apparently the new version of Firefox and Twitter are not yet friends (I don't want to hear one word about Tweet Deck or Twhirl or Echofon or any of that shit. Not one fucking word) and I'm tired of looking at a completely blank page when I try to load Twitter (NOT. ONE. WORD.) And then on Saturday afternoon, I was bored (read: sober) when suddenly ... I remembered! Hey! I can play Angry Birds on this thing! Let's give it a try, shall we? Finally I can understand what the fuck The Oatmeal was talking about here.
Here's something I learned about myself very very quickly afterwards: I suck at Angry Birds. I mean... I am REALLY bad at it. My birds constantly go flying in all directions and practically NEVER hit those stupid smarmy fucking asshole pig things. It's actually quite funny. You know, if it didn't piss me off so much.
 |
| Fuck you. I don't even care. I. Don't. Even. Care. |
I quickly grew tired of playing Miss Pigs With Birds and went into the kitchen to make dinner (read: drink). Right before I left, however, Child 2 comes along and says "Hey! That looks fun! Can I play it?" So I say "sure!" and I start to explain to him how it works. "See, you drag the bird back and then try to aim it-"
"Yeah, yeah," he says, pushing me out of my chair, "I got it, I got it."
Whatever. Jerk kid. Show off. Mumble.
 |
| This guy? This guy can just go right ahead and fuck off. |
I'm in the kitchen no more than 5 fucking minutes (seriously), when Child 2 comes running into the room yelling "Mama! Mama!! I've already gotten past the level you were on when I started playing!!"
Are you fucking kidding me?? I was at that shit for at least a half hour, and you've been at it for five minutes and you're already better than me? Seriously????
 |
| Hey! Did I mention go fuck yourself? Because go fuck yourself. |
I HATE Angry Birds. That game SUCKS.
FUCK YOU, BIRDS. You're not going to suck me in with your chirping shenanigans. You're dead to me, birds. DEAD.
Lemme just go practice a little more first, though....
(By the way... the juggling chick is back. Just sayin')
Monday, May 16, 2011
National Teacher Sickout 9-21-2011 #sickout
I found these guys on Twitter and when I asked them how parents can help they sent me this. Happy to help, guys. Bring it on, I say.
More information here: National Teacher Sickout, NTS Facebook Page, NTS on Twitter, a pdf of the below letter
To: Parents of U.S. school children
From: Anonymous
Re: National Teacher Sickout 9-21-2011
Greetings, we are Anonymous.
We are calling on all teachers to participate in a nation-wide sickout on September 21st, 2011 to protest the centralization of educational policy making power in the United States. We demand a return to local control for public education.
We are strongly pro-parent. Parents should be the primary drivers of educational policy in their own communities. Accountability should be maintained at the local level. School boards and administrators should answer to parents and community members, not to politicians and bureaucrats.
This is increasingly not the case. For more than twenty-five years, powerful corporate and political interests have created ever more nation-wide rules and requirements for schools to follow, silencing the voice of parents. Every year, the wishes of parents count for less, and the wishes of powerful corporations and foundations, and ambitious politicians and bureaucrats count for more. This must end.
For years academics and concerned citizens have made arguments, engaged in debates, and submitted pleas to stop the destruction of public education and dis-empowerment of parents. All have failed. The time for talking is over, the time for action is now. A nationwide sickout will be highly disruptive and send a clear message to the corporations and politicians who think they are in control.
We call on the support of all parents who wish to be the primary drivers of their own children's education. We ask that you spread the word by tweeting, facebooking, and talking with your children's teachers to encourage them to participate. Post links and encouragement on blogs and news sites. We ask that you to go out into the real world to post fliers, to hold community meetings, to protest at board meetings and political gatherings.
We ask that you join us in our demand. We ask that you make yourselves heard.
We are Anonymous.
You are the leaders.
More information here: National Teacher Sickout, NTS Facebook Page, NTS on Twitter, a pdf of the below letter
To: Parents of U.S. school children
From: Anonymous
Re: National Teacher Sickout 9-21-2011
Greetings, we are Anonymous.
We are calling on all teachers to participate in a nation-wide sickout on September 21st, 2011 to protest the centralization of educational policy making power in the United States. We demand a return to local control for public education.
We are strongly pro-parent. Parents should be the primary drivers of educational policy in their own communities. Accountability should be maintained at the local level. School boards and administrators should answer to parents and community members, not to politicians and bureaucrats.
This is increasingly not the case. For more than twenty-five years, powerful corporate and political interests have created ever more nation-wide rules and requirements for schools to follow, silencing the voice of parents. Every year, the wishes of parents count for less, and the wishes of powerful corporations and foundations, and ambitious politicians and bureaucrats count for more. This must end.
For years academics and concerned citizens have made arguments, engaged in debates, and submitted pleas to stop the destruction of public education and dis-empowerment of parents. All have failed. The time for talking is over, the time for action is now. A nationwide sickout will be highly disruptive and send a clear message to the corporations and politicians who think they are in control.
We call on the support of all parents who wish to be the primary drivers of their own children's education. We ask that you spread the word by tweeting, facebooking, and talking with your children's teachers to encourage them to participate. Post links and encouragement on blogs and news sites. We ask that you to go out into the real world to post fliers, to hold community meetings, to protest at board meetings and political gatherings.
We ask that you join us in our demand. We ask that you make yourselves heard.
We are Anonymous.
You are the leaders.
Sunday, May 15, 2011
The Dive Bar Welcomes: Manda
Today we welcome Manda, who blogs at Misadventures in Life and Such. And OMG, sorry, but before we get to your rant, Manda, can we please first appreciate this drawing of yours?
Holy FUCK that's awesome!!! Anyway.... here's Manda. YAY!
My big sister. She is kinda awesome in a "I'm three years older then you but I still talk to you like you're 4" way. But this isn't really about my sister. Its about her lame ass piece o shit husband. There really is a special place in hell for him. First of all, my sister is adorable and pretty and blond, my total opposite in looks and personality. So it really shouldn't have surprised any of us when she started dating this dude in a trench coat when she was 17. He told us right off he was a born again christian, aspired to be "The Crow" and wouldn't date a girl with shorter hair then him. He kept his own hair pulled back in a pony tail that he never takes out, even to wash his hair. Eew. So after the normal screaming and crying and fighting my sister moved in with him, got all knocked up and then he brutally attacked her with a carving knife leading her to run away to live with relatives, my mom to tell my BIL that Jess lost the baby, and the birth of their little girl at my dad's house in Wisconsin.
That was the abbreviated version.
So the baby is born, we're all living in Pennsylvannia and here comes BIL crawling back. My sister so smitten, didn't even mind that every time she called his house a different tired sounding girl would answer the phone. So they got back together. Silly Jess. Various things happen, she gets pregnant, finds used condoms in his truck, catches him with the babysitter. All the while working her ass off in a pizza place while he is a Paperboy (excuse me paper DELIVERY PERSON). So when finding out her husband is cheating on her? Marries him. Fucking marries him. So for the count, they have 2 kids and his daughter from a previous relationship so 3 little girls total and then my sister finds out she had Pulmonary Hystiocytosis. A fucking disease so rare that Johns Hopkins doesn't know what to do about it. They tell her they'd be surprised if she lives until she's 35.
So BIL tells her its stupid to do treatment and since he's so smart and god and all with his framed GED she listens to him and proceeds to work herself to near death and attempt to repopulate the world with devils spawn (actually all her kids are really really effin cute and sweet but still). So BIL starts openly seeing a girl from his past, Angie, who is "christian". She starts sending Jess emails about how she should step aside and blah blah, but BIL wants his harem. Angie wouldn't actually SLEEP with BIL until he's divorced but remained confident through Jess's 3rd pregnancy and was even allowed to name this daughter. So on they go, Jess enjoying that she's "winning" over Angie because BIL will sleep with her.. and since yah know how picky he's been in the past about where he sticks it that must mean he loves her. In here BIL made Jess quite her job because she needed to be spending more time with the children.. Yep. For a month. Then told her that she'd have to leave if she didn't find a NEW job because now she was spending too much time with the children. So she got another job, loved it, was promptly promoted to manager, found out she was pregnant with number 4. A boy this time, so she was promised she could get her tubes tied and be done with the broodmare thing.
So now that she's pregnant with number 4 Angie leaves because ya know... getting the girl he was going to leave pregnant a fourth time is kind of just rubbing some cleaning solvent in the wound at this point. So at 25 my sister has had 4 kids, and one step kid. Awesome. The new baby being a boy doesn't bring the promised tube tying though. But BIL does kick my sister out of the house. (Prompting my mom and I to step in and look up every legal thing we can to get the kids the fuck out of that house but Jess said no, they needed their father.) So. She left him for a month. Got told by 9 different councilors that she was an EXTREME abuse case and this shit was only going to get worse. She got back together with him, because she was pregnant. Again. 26 with 5 pregnancies. And then he made her quit her job. Her job with insurance. And steady large pay check. And people who cared about her. And she's just home getting bigger with their second boy.
Because of her illness her teeth are gone. She gets pneumonia every fucking spring and summer. And those poor kids. I want to kill my BIL. I know my sister is to blame too. I hate her as well. But I know that she's dumb enough to listen to whoever she loves and right now she loves The Beast. The shit head. The douche. I hope his truck falls on him while hes working on it. I hope I catch him wailing on her sometime so I can rip his pony tail out of his greasy head. Most of all I hope that if my sister is really dieing from this illness she'll wake up and realize she doesn't NEED that shit and she can take all the kids and run and someone will love her and take care of her, even if it is just her mom and baby sister. We love her. We will take care of her. Goddamn it.
Oh on a side note, one of the reasons we're scared to be the aggressors some people who watch a lot of Daytime tv might have seen the Maury where he interviewed a 20 year old girl that was stabbed in the head like 20 times by her husband who she had been living in a safe house to get away from? She was walking to her car from a Wal-Mart when he jumped out and just started stabbing her. BIL's brother.
Comforting.
Holy FUCK that's awesome!!! Anyway.... here's Manda. YAY!
My big sister. She is kinda awesome in a "I'm three years older then you but I still talk to you like you're 4" way. But this isn't really about my sister. Its about her lame ass piece o shit husband. There really is a special place in hell for him. First of all, my sister is adorable and pretty and blond, my total opposite in looks and personality. So it really shouldn't have surprised any of us when she started dating this dude in a trench coat when she was 17. He told us right off he was a born again christian, aspired to be "The Crow" and wouldn't date a girl with shorter hair then him. He kept his own hair pulled back in a pony tail that he never takes out, even to wash his hair. Eew. So after the normal screaming and crying and fighting my sister moved in with him, got all knocked up and then he brutally attacked her with a carving knife leading her to run away to live with relatives, my mom to tell my BIL that Jess lost the baby, and the birth of their little girl at my dad's house in Wisconsin.
That was the abbreviated version.
So the baby is born, we're all living in Pennsylvannia and here comes BIL crawling back. My sister so smitten, didn't even mind that every time she called his house a different tired sounding girl would answer the phone. So they got back together. Silly Jess. Various things happen, she gets pregnant, finds used condoms in his truck, catches him with the babysitter. All the while working her ass off in a pizza place while he is a Paperboy (excuse me paper DELIVERY PERSON). So when finding out her husband is cheating on her? Marries him. Fucking marries him. So for the count, they have 2 kids and his daughter from a previous relationship so 3 little girls total and then my sister finds out she had Pulmonary Hystiocytosis. A fucking disease so rare that Johns Hopkins doesn't know what to do about it. They tell her they'd be surprised if she lives until she's 35.
So BIL tells her its stupid to do treatment and since he's so smart and god and all with his framed GED she listens to him and proceeds to work herself to near death and attempt to repopulate the world with devils spawn (actually all her kids are really really effin cute and sweet but still). So BIL starts openly seeing a girl from his past, Angie, who is "christian". She starts sending Jess emails about how she should step aside and blah blah, but BIL wants his harem. Angie wouldn't actually SLEEP with BIL until he's divorced but remained confident through Jess's 3rd pregnancy and was even allowed to name this daughter. So on they go, Jess enjoying that she's "winning" over Angie because BIL will sleep with her.. and since yah know how picky he's been in the past about where he sticks it that must mean he loves her. In here BIL made Jess quite her job because she needed to be spending more time with the children.. Yep. For a month. Then told her that she'd have to leave if she didn't find a NEW job because now she was spending too much time with the children. So she got another job, loved it, was promptly promoted to manager, found out she was pregnant with number 4. A boy this time, so she was promised she could get her tubes tied and be done with the broodmare thing.
So now that she's pregnant with number 4 Angie leaves because ya know... getting the girl he was going to leave pregnant a fourth time is kind of just rubbing some cleaning solvent in the wound at this point. So at 25 my sister has had 4 kids, and one step kid. Awesome. The new baby being a boy doesn't bring the promised tube tying though. But BIL does kick my sister out of the house. (Prompting my mom and I to step in and look up every legal thing we can to get the kids the fuck out of that house but Jess said no, they needed their father.) So. She left him for a month. Got told by 9 different councilors that she was an EXTREME abuse case and this shit was only going to get worse. She got back together with him, because she was pregnant. Again. 26 with 5 pregnancies. And then he made her quit her job. Her job with insurance. And steady large pay check. And people who cared about her. And she's just home getting bigger with their second boy.
Because of her illness her teeth are gone. She gets pneumonia every fucking spring and summer. And those poor kids. I want to kill my BIL. I know my sister is to blame too. I hate her as well. But I know that she's dumb enough to listen to whoever she loves and right now she loves The Beast. The shit head. The douche. I hope his truck falls on him while hes working on it. I hope I catch him wailing on her sometime so I can rip his pony tail out of his greasy head. Most of all I hope that if my sister is really dieing from this illness she'll wake up and realize she doesn't NEED that shit and she can take all the kids and run and someone will love her and take care of her, even if it is just her mom and baby sister. We love her. We will take care of her. Goddamn it.
Oh on a side note, one of the reasons we're scared to be the aggressors some people who watch a lot of Daytime tv might have seen the Maury where he interviewed a 20 year old girl that was stabbed in the head like 20 times by her husband who she had been living in a safe house to get away from? She was walking to her car from a Wal-Mart when he jumped out and just started stabbing her. BIL's brother.
Comforting.
Friday, May 13, 2011
So this is how it starts
A few weeks ago I was contacted by my Twitter buddy Christine, who blogs at All About Mom-sense, asking me if I wanted to participate in the May Mom Blog Hop that she and Nadia from Musings.... By the Light of the Moon were organizing. I said SURE! I love blog hops; I'm happy to participate. The instructions were:
I actually had something inspiring in mind to write about today, but the events of the past few days have caused me to change my mind. Instead, I will be writing about the realities of having a child with autism. It's not going to be pretty, or inspiring and probably most of the folks participating in this blog hop won't be able to say "Thank Goodness it's not just me," but it's certainly "Mom related." Sorry, Christine, if I messed up the purpose of the hop, but this is the reality of my life as a mom.
Also, I had to write this stupid thing twice, due to the Bloggerpocalypse of May 2011, so apologies for getting it up late!
Wednesday afternoon I had picked up the kids and we were walking to the car. I heard a voice behind us yelling "Jacob!" (Child 1. I'm using his real name today. Fuck it) and I look behind me to see another kid in Jake's class walking next to him, leaning in close, saying something; and then Jake said something back. I thought "huh. That's not right." Jake doesn't have any friends and certainly no friends that would call his name to get him to stop walking so that he could lean in close and share a secret or something. I didn't hear what was said and the kid ran off to whatever car that was waiting for him.
I made Jake tell me what had just happened. Apparently the kid had asked him to say "I put baby Jesus in a time machine and he turned into big Jesus."
What the fuck does that mean? I asked Jake what that meant, and he said "it's a joke!"
What the fuck is funny about that?
This is clearly not a joke; at least not one that Jake is a part of. This is another kid using MY kid as the fucking butt of some kind of game. Asking him to repeat something that makes no sense... for what purpose? The only option is that Jake was being made fun of.
It's possible I was overreacting. I mean... I do that, especially when it comes to Jake. I am fiercely overprotective of him when it comes to any kind of potential bullying. So, I kept calm (for the most part). We went home and I sent an email to his teacher. Then I googled the phrase, thinking maybe it was a line from a movie or something? I couldn't find anything.
Thursday morning we went to school and after I had dropped them both off in their respective locations I went back to the yard where I knew Jake would be, with all the other kids, waiting for the bell to ring.
I walk up to Jake, who is with the kid I saw the day before, and 2 others, just as he's finishing saying "... and he turned into big Jesus."
"Why do you guys do that?" I butted in. My hands were shaking.
Wow. The looks on their faces clearly meant that inside their heads at that moment they were saying to themselves "BUSTED."
"Because it's funny" they mumbled, refusing to look me in the eye.
"What's funny about it?" I asked.
No response. Just more looking at the ground. So I asked again.
"WHAT'S funny about it?"
"Nothing." The one kid said.
"So if it's not funny, why do you do it?" I asked.
Then I looked at Jake, who had a huge smile on his face. Mama is here to be a part of this fun game that I do with the other kids, he was thinking. Yay Mama!
The bell rang and I headed back towards the building to find his teacher, who had responded to my email in the meantime (I got it on my phone) saying that she had no idea what was going on and "irrespective of what it means, there is a deeper problem of their treatment of Jake as some sort of "toy" for lack of a better expression."
I found her in the hallway and told her what had just happened. She was pissed. She said she'd get to the bottom of it. I had no choice but to trust her, leave the school and go to work.
I came back around lunchtime because I had volunteered to help with something and I spotted her again in the hallway. She told me that when Jake was out of the room she had talked to the class about it. Yeah, it was a game they were playing; they thought it was funny to make him say weird things, and he happily went along with it, thinking that this is just what friends do. But they were laughing at him when they did it. There's nothing funny about this.
She confronted the kids in front of the class and the whole room had a talk about it. There are some good kids in that class who like to look out for him, and now, apparently, they will be paying more attention. Afterwards she called all 3 of their parents. I wanted to contact their parents but she said it would be better for her to call them, at least at first. Yeah, she's probably right. She also wrote them all up or something. I like her. She did good for my kid.
Jake has no idea what's going on. He honestly thinks these kids are his friends; he has no clue they're making fun of him. I have no intention of educating him otherwise, at least not at this point. He doesn't need to know the truth, and I'm not sure if he would even understand it. I'm the only one who has been hurt by this (and hubs) there's no reason to make Jake hurt, too; at least not while he's still too young to drink. The adults have gotten involved and are taking care of it for him. Educate these kids; educate their parents and maybe next time they'll actually think about their actions before they do something like this.
But what if I hadn't heard it? It would just continue on and on. And what's going to happen next? We can maybe educate these three kids about how not to be a complete douche, but there are a ton of other kids. More to come. Next year... the year after... then fucking middle school. It's just going to get worse and at some point Jake is going to have to get clued in to what's going on here; I'm not going to be able to protect him every time.
I feel sick to my stomach and just want to lie down and cry. I always knew 3rd grade would be when it started. I guess we're here now.
Please visit the next person in Blog Hop line when she posts tomorrow: What Did She Say.
Here is also the blogger who hopped yesterday: I Love Purple More Than You
Just one day for Mothers is just not enough so some Mom-Blogger pals of mine and I are dedicating this entire month of May to Moms. Each day one of us will post a special Mom-related blog and then guide you on to the next day’s blog with an easy access link to just click for the next day. On this blog tour, you will meet new friends, find new blogs to follow that bring you laughs, tears, tips, ‘Thank Goodness It’s Not Just Me’ moments, and more…Some bloggers may even offer drawings for prizes to pamper YOU…You just need to follow along, read…and wait for more details on how you can get some great goodies as souvenirs on this Mother’s Day May Blog Tour.... Your posts can be as long or short as you want, picture, prose, poetry…anything Mom related is perfect!!
I actually had something inspiring in mind to write about today, but the events of the past few days have caused me to change my mind. Instead, I will be writing about the realities of having a child with autism. It's not going to be pretty, or inspiring and probably most of the folks participating in this blog hop won't be able to say "Thank Goodness it's not just me," but it's certainly "Mom related." Sorry, Christine, if I messed up the purpose of the hop, but this is the reality of my life as a mom.
Also, I had to write this stupid thing twice, due to the Bloggerpocalypse of May 2011, so apologies for getting it up late!
Wednesday afternoon I had picked up the kids and we were walking to the car. I heard a voice behind us yelling "Jacob!" (Child 1. I'm using his real name today. Fuck it) and I look behind me to see another kid in Jake's class walking next to him, leaning in close, saying something; and then Jake said something back. I thought "huh. That's not right." Jake doesn't have any friends and certainly no friends that would call his name to get him to stop walking so that he could lean in close and share a secret or something. I didn't hear what was said and the kid ran off to whatever car that was waiting for him.
I made Jake tell me what had just happened. Apparently the kid had asked him to say "I put baby Jesus in a time machine and he turned into big Jesus."
What the fuck does that mean? I asked Jake what that meant, and he said "it's a joke!"
What the fuck is funny about that?
This is clearly not a joke; at least not one that Jake is a part of. This is another kid using MY kid as the fucking butt of some kind of game. Asking him to repeat something that makes no sense... for what purpose? The only option is that Jake was being made fun of.
It's possible I was overreacting. I mean... I do that, especially when it comes to Jake. I am fiercely overprotective of him when it comes to any kind of potential bullying. So, I kept calm (for the most part). We went home and I sent an email to his teacher. Then I googled the phrase, thinking maybe it was a line from a movie or something? I couldn't find anything.
Thursday morning we went to school and after I had dropped them both off in their respective locations I went back to the yard where I knew Jake would be, with all the other kids, waiting for the bell to ring.
I walk up to Jake, who is with the kid I saw the day before, and 2 others, just as he's finishing saying "... and he turned into big Jesus."
"Why do you guys do that?" I butted in. My hands were shaking.
Wow. The looks on their faces clearly meant that inside their heads at that moment they were saying to themselves "BUSTED."
"Because it's funny" they mumbled, refusing to look me in the eye.
"What's funny about it?" I asked.
No response. Just more looking at the ground. So I asked again.
"WHAT'S funny about it?"
"Nothing." The one kid said.
"So if it's not funny, why do you do it?" I asked.
Then I looked at Jake, who had a huge smile on his face. Mama is here to be a part of this fun game that I do with the other kids, he was thinking. Yay Mama!
The bell rang and I headed back towards the building to find his teacher, who had responded to my email in the meantime (I got it on my phone) saying that she had no idea what was going on and "irrespective of what it means, there is a deeper problem of their treatment of Jake as some sort of "toy" for lack of a better expression."
I found her in the hallway and told her what had just happened. She was pissed. She said she'd get to the bottom of it. I had no choice but to trust her, leave the school and go to work.
I came back around lunchtime because I had volunteered to help with something and I spotted her again in the hallway. She told me that when Jake was out of the room she had talked to the class about it. Yeah, it was a game they were playing; they thought it was funny to make him say weird things, and he happily went along with it, thinking that this is just what friends do. But they were laughing at him when they did it. There's nothing funny about this.
She confronted the kids in front of the class and the whole room had a talk about it. There are some good kids in that class who like to look out for him, and now, apparently, they will be paying more attention. Afterwards she called all 3 of their parents. I wanted to contact their parents but she said it would be better for her to call them, at least at first. Yeah, she's probably right. She also wrote them all up or something. I like her. She did good for my kid.
Jake has no idea what's going on. He honestly thinks these kids are his friends; he has no clue they're making fun of him. I have no intention of educating him otherwise, at least not at this point. He doesn't need to know the truth, and I'm not sure if he would even understand it. I'm the only one who has been hurt by this (and hubs) there's no reason to make Jake hurt, too; at least not while he's still too young to drink. The adults have gotten involved and are taking care of it for him. Educate these kids; educate their parents and maybe next time they'll actually think about their actions before they do something like this.
But what if I hadn't heard it? It would just continue on and on. And what's going to happen next? We can maybe educate these three kids about how not to be a complete douche, but there are a ton of other kids. More to come. Next year... the year after... then fucking middle school. It's just going to get worse and at some point Jake is going to have to get clued in to what's going on here; I'm not going to be able to protect him every time.
I feel sick to my stomach and just want to lie down and cry. I always knew 3rd grade would be when it started. I guess we're here now.
Please visit the next person in Blog Hop line when she posts tomorrow: What Did She Say.
Here is also the blogger who hopped yesterday: I Love Purple More Than You
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
I got an STD. From the Internet!
Yeah. It's a meme. I know, I know, I don't usually do these things. I've explained why before (can't find the post where I explained why before so just trust me that I've explained why before). Except this one was created by my Bloggy/Twitter buddy Lady Estrogen. And I happen to have some experience with creating memes and then hoping like hell they don't just fizzle out, so I've decided to participate in this one. Also because it calls for lying. I like lying.
So, yeah. There you have it. The Sexy & Talented Diploma! Also known as STD. But that was just a coincidence, I'm sure. Kind of like how Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds was a coincidence. (Oh! Is that an acronym for THAT? I didn't even REALIZE!!! Yeah, okay John. Whatever). This was given to me by Lady Estrogen, in her first round of awards, no less. Thanks, Lady! I'll try not to let you down :)
Here are the rules:
1. Make up ONE totally ridiculous story about yourself that is a complete rip-off from a movie. It can be as long or short as you want; clean or crass as you want.
2. Pass it on to whomever you feel is deserving of this STD - or accept it and keep it for yourself; it's your blog - it's your choice. I'M PRO CHOICE!
3. If you choose to accept this STD, please link your acceptance post back here. (I'll keep it open for at least all summer.) There's a very good chance that I'll be sporadically choosing random winners to get some of my
And we're off!!
A long time ago I used to have this boyfriend that we called T.S. At one point we had plans to go to Florida but then my Dad, who makes games shows on TV, asked me to be in one of his shows because the girls who was supposed to be on it fucking died so I had to cancel the Florida trip. T.S. acted like a total douche about it and I just told him to go fuck himself. I don't know what his fucking problem was.
Anyway, when it came time to do the game show, which was like a Dating Game type thing, T.S. somehow managed to get himself into the game and pretended to be one of the contestants and then he asked me to marry him right there in front of everybody and on TV! It was awesome.
We got divorced, though, a few years later. I don't know what happened to him. I hear he hangs out a lot on Twitter now.
I'm passing this award onto my Sisters in Shitty Stick Figure Self Portraits, Princess Muffintop and Handflapper. I mean, come on.... look at the three of us together, it's like a fucking badly drawn stick figure family reunion over here. Weird, right??
Out of the mouths of babes: This time he was coached
Last week I kept Child 2 home from school (because of the barfing) but I had a haircut appointment that I didn't want to miss (have you heard of my tuft? My tuft needs constant care) so I decided to bring him along.
A few hours before the appointment, hubs and I started prepping him.
"When you meet John, this is what you need to say to him. Okay, let's practice. Hi! I'm John! Nice to meet you! What do you say?"
We got there, and practiced a few more times, and finally the big moment had arrived.
John came over... and I made the introductions.
Me: John, this is Child 2. Child 2, this is John.
John: Hi Child 2, nice to meet you.
Child 2: I want a Flock of Seagulls!
Good work, son. Very good work.
A few hours before the appointment, hubs and I started prepping him.
"When you meet John, this is what you need to say to him. Okay, let's practice. Hi! I'm John! Nice to meet you! What do you say?"
We got there, and practiced a few more times, and finally the big moment had arrived.
Me: John, this is Child 2. Child 2, this is John.
John: Hi Child 2, nice to meet you.
Child 2: I want a Flock of Seagulls!
Good work, son. Very good work.
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
It's my Blogthday!
Yes, that's right! One year ago today I said to Google, "You know what, Google? Fuck it. Let's give this blogging shit a try, what do you say??" So I picked my favorite expression (at the time; I think we all know that if I started this blog today it would be called "I KNOW, right?") and started this fucker up. My first post was called I don't know what I'm doing. And guess what? One year later and I still don't know!
At first I told two people about it: Hubs and a friend. Then I told my online friends about it. Then I told my Facebook friends about it. And then... I don't know what the hell happened. 365 days and 571 posts later, I've managed to attract almost 400 followers. How? No fucking clue. Seriously. Who are you people?
Since I am a Bookkeeper, and a dork, I can't let this auspicious event go by without using Excel in some way, so here's a chart I made which neatly categorizes my 571 posts into friendly and easy to read graph form.
I thought about perhaps doing a retrospective; a "look back," if you will, at the last year. I could talk about things I've learned, how I've grown as a person; maybe give some advice to newbie bloggers; tell you how I did it and whatnot, but fuck that! Seriously, who gives a shit? Would anybody actually want to read that crap? And, really, if you're taking blogging advice from me I think you're probably cursed or doomed or drunk or something. So, no. Instead I've asked my friend Kendall from This Is Not That Blog (formerly known as the 21st century mrs) to draw me a picture of myself celebrating my one year blogging anniversary, in the way that only she can. YAY!
One thing I will do, though, is list for you 5 of my favorites so we can all have a good laugh. At me.
A whole day to myself, 6/27/10
Artichoke: You're trying too hard, 7/22/10
Laundry: FUCK YEAH!!!!!!!, 8/14/10
Sometimes you just have to admit defeat, 2/3/11
I REALLY need to monitor this child's library usage better, 2/23/11
At first I told two people about it: Hubs and a friend. Then I told my online friends about it. Then I told my Facebook friends about it. And then... I don't know what the hell happened. 365 days and 571 posts later, I've managed to attract almost 400 followers. How? No fucking clue. Seriously. Who are you people?
Since I am a Bookkeeper, and a dork, I can't let this auspicious event go by without using Excel in some way, so here's a chart I made which neatly categorizes my 571 posts into friendly and easy to read graph form.
I thought about perhaps doing a retrospective; a "look back," if you will, at the last year. I could talk about things I've learned, how I've grown as a person; maybe give some advice to newbie bloggers; tell you how I did it and whatnot, but fuck that! Seriously, who gives a shit? Would anybody actually want to read that crap? And, really, if you're taking blogging advice from me I think you're probably cursed or doomed or drunk or something. So, no. Instead I've asked my friend Kendall from This Is Not That Blog (formerly known as the 21st century mrs) to draw me a picture of myself celebrating my one year blogging anniversary, in the way that only she can. YAY!
One thing I will do, though, is list for you 5 of my favorites so we can all have a good laugh. At me.
A whole day to myself, 6/27/10
Artichoke: You're trying too hard, 7/22/10
Laundry: FUCK YEAH!!!!!!!, 8/14/10
Sometimes you just have to admit defeat, 2/3/11
I REALLY need to monitor this child's library usage better, 2/23/11
Monday, May 9, 2011
Things I Find In My House VII
Yeah, you know what? This is not actually a fun discovery first thing in the morning, pre-contact lens insertion AND pre-caffeine.
I thought it was real at first. Then I took a closer look
I'm pretty sure real lizards aren't usually that bright a shade of yellow.
I thought it was real at first. Then I took a closer look
I'm pretty sure real lizards aren't usually that bright a shade of yellow.
Sunday, May 8, 2011
Happy Mother's Day!
Happy Mother's Day to all my mommy friends and bloggers and tweeps. Here's hoping you get everything you want today (meaning, uninterrupted time to sleep one off, followed by breakfast in bed, followed by being left the fuck alone for the rest of the day).
Saturday, May 7, 2011
And I still would
The Thinking Person's Guide to Autism, on their Facebook page, posted a link to the BlogHer article that featured my "Yes I would" thingy about autism. So now all these people are coming over here, and all those other places, and giving me some shit for what I said.
But it's kind of like nobody actually read what I wrote and is just having a visceral reaction to the idea of the pill in general, so I'm going to take a moment to re-state everything I said, but this time in bullet points, to make it easier to understand and to eliminate the straw man.
EDIT: I just put this in the comments and I'm putting it here, too, so that it won't get missed:
I have no problem with somebody disagreeing with me, particularly in a well considered way. You know me and you know that I encourage people to give me their opinion regardless of whether or not it will be controversial or if I agree with it. It's not that difficult for me to have my work out there on an emotional level, to tell you the truth. I've been at this online thing for a LONG time and as long as people are respectful, I'm happy with disagreement.
What I DO have a problem with is people who don't read what I actually wrote, who formulate an argument that I didn't make and then attack me for something I didn't say. That I have a big problem with.
This post isn't for what anybody said over at BlogHer or even what was said on Facebook, this post is for the people who commented HERE.
EDIT2: There's something really wonky about my commenting dealie here. Comments get posted but then they seem to disappear on their own somehow. Most of them are mine, since I comment here more than anybody else, and I have no idea what the deal is. SO, if you've commented, and it's gone now, it's not because I deleted it, because I don't delete comments, it just went away for some reason. I'm sorry about that! I always get an email notification which contains the contents of your comment so if that happened to you, let me know and I can send it to you for re-posting.
But it's kind of like nobody actually read what I wrote and is just having a visceral reaction to the idea of the pill in general, so I'm going to take a moment to re-state everything I said, but this time in bullet points, to make it easier to understand and to eliminate the straw man.
- My son is sweet and awesome and I love him exactly the way he is right now
- My life has actually benefited from my child having autism. Without autism I believe MY life would be worse off. But this isn't about me.
- Autism causes my child sensory and emotional pain
- I would like for him to not be in pain, and if there was a pill that would do that, I would give it to him
- After the pill, his sensory and emotional pain would be gone and he would STILL be the same person he is now: sweet and awesome.
EDIT: I just put this in the comments and I'm putting it here, too, so that it won't get missed:
I have no problem with somebody disagreeing with me, particularly in a well considered way. You know me and you know that I encourage people to give me their opinion regardless of whether or not it will be controversial or if I agree with it. It's not that difficult for me to have my work out there on an emotional level, to tell you the truth. I've been at this online thing for a LONG time and as long as people are respectful, I'm happy with disagreement.
What I DO have a problem with is people who don't read what I actually wrote, who formulate an argument that I didn't make and then attack me for something I didn't say. That I have a big problem with.
This post isn't for what anybody said over at BlogHer or even what was said on Facebook, this post is for the people who commented HERE.
EDIT2: There's something really wonky about my commenting dealie here. Comments get posted but then they seem to disappear on their own somehow. Most of them are mine, since I comment here more than anybody else, and I have no idea what the deal is. SO, if you've commented, and it's gone now, it's not because I deleted it, because I don't delete comments, it just went away for some reason. I'm sorry about that! I always get an email notification which contains the contents of your comment so if that happened to you, let me know and I can send it to you for re-posting.
Friday, May 6, 2011
Didn't your mother ever tell you not to play ball in the house???
Child 2 has requested that he write this blog entry (not like last time). I am just the portal through which his art flows:
We were playing ball. Child 2 kicked the ball. It broke the lamp. The end.
We were playing ball. Child 2 kicked the ball. It broke the lamp. The end.
Does insane still count as okay?
That's how I responded to a text today from my friend who asked "are you okay?" She said it does still count. So... YAY! I'm okay!!
Because... you see.... the Puke Fairy is back. And this time... it's personal. (Read that in the movie preview guy voice that you keep in your head).
Why do I always assume that when my kids say they don't feel well they're just faking it to get out of school? Why is my natural instinct to not believe them? Is it because when I was their age I would pretend to be sick so I could get out of school, like... ALL the time? Perhaps.... (hmmmm. I may be onto something here. Clearly further study is indicated).
Anyway, this morning they both said they didn't feel well and couldn't go to school. I didn't believe either of them. Then they both barfed. Suddenly I became a true believer. Child 2 has been barfing repeatedly, actually, and now is lying prone on the couch watching some really weird cartoon (that I'm almost certain just said "fuck") about bunnies that's kind of creeping me out.... and I'm BORED. SO BORED.
I should probably go through Google Reader since I have 360 unread blog posts I could read and comment on right now. I'm not sure I have the mental energy for that. So, I've been typing random phrases into Google to see what happens. Check it out!
Because... you see.... the Puke Fairy is back. And this time... it's personal. (Read that in the movie preview guy voice that you keep in your head).
Why do I always assume that when my kids say they don't feel well they're just faking it to get out of school? Why is my natural instinct to not believe them? Is it because when I was their age I would pretend to be sick so I could get out of school, like... ALL the time? Perhaps.... (hmmmm. I may be onto something here. Clearly further study is indicated).
Anyway, this morning they both said they didn't feel well and couldn't go to school. I didn't believe either of them. Then they both barfed. Suddenly I became a true believer. Child 2 has been barfing repeatedly, actually, and now is lying prone on the couch watching some really weird cartoon (that I'm almost certain just said "fuck") about bunnies that's kind of creeping me out.... and I'm BORED. SO BORED.
I should probably go through Google Reader since I have 360 unread blog posts I could read and comment on right now. I'm not sure I have the mental energy for that. So, I've been typing random phrases into Google to see what happens. Check it out!
 |
| Seriously, though... what IS the last name of the British Royal family? I've never given it a moment's thought until this very minute... AAAAAAAAAAAAND it's gone |
 |
| OMG!! Twitter is gay??? Emily, did you know that??? |
 |
| The first thing that alcohol affects is your ability to not hit "send." |
 |
| I would bet you a million dollars that only men were searching for how to put a tampon in |
 |
| I actually selected one of these suggestions. Can you guess which one? Please ask me because I've learned so much and I totally want to share!!!!!! |
 |
| Nothing?? WHAT THE FUCK, GOOGLE??? |
 |
| And a tip of the invisible hat to YOU, Mrs. Ped. Quite. |
Thursday, May 5, 2011
I either saved a bird's life or I guaranteed it a slow and painful death. I'm not sure which.
I get up and follow the noise and I find one of our cats has something in her clutches, and she has an audience; other cats were watching her work. She would bat at it, it would make these fluttering sounds, some squeaking sounds, and she would clamp down on it with her paws again. She was clearly torturing a bird. Bitch!
So I pick up a piece of hot wheels track, which we are fortunate enough to have fucking everywhere in our house, and I shoo the cat away with it, leaving behind this sad and definitely crippled bird who keeps trying to get up and fly away but can't.
I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do with this sad little birdie; this is the kind of thing that hubs usually deals with and he wasn't there. I do know that I can't just leave it on the floor of my TV room, though, so I use the hot wheels track to scoop it into a helmet which also just happens to be lying there on the floor (handy!) and I take the little thing outside.
Outside.... where all the cats were: waiting for us. I gently deposit the bird underneath the lavender bush and I, uh.... leave it there. To its fate? I guess? But I made sure to close the door behind me because I sure as hell don't want dead bird pieces all over my TV room!
Yeah, I'm pretty sure I did that wrong. Sorry, all birds everywhere. But what the hell else was I supposed to do with it? Flush it? Kill it with my bare hands, thus allowing it to die quickly rather than slowly and painfully for the mere amusement and sport of a cat? No fucking way! I'm not killing any goddamn birds, that's what the fucking cats are for! I don't know what happened to it, I didn't go back out there to find out. I figured there would be some kind of bird tribunal waiting for me, ready to send my murdering soul to eternal damnation where my eyeballs would be pecked at for all of eternity and the sound of chirping would ring constantly in my ears.
Hubs says he would have found a high plant somewhere and put the bird in there, rather than putting it on the ground, practically on a platter for the evil beasts.
At least the lavender was kind of like a garnish.
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
Well, actually... I LOVE standardized tests!!!
Child 1 was better today and went to school. When we got home this afternoon I quizzed him about his day. Here is our conversation:
Me: What did you do in school today?
C1: Good (he always says that! Because he "memorized" the proper answer to "how are you?" and so he always throws this one out first)
Me: No... what did you DO today? (This is always what I say!)
C1: Nothing
Me: Did you hang out with Ms. H?
C1: Yes!
Me: What did you guys do?
C1: We did testing! (he seems very happy about this. In fact, it's pretty unusual that we ever even make it this far in the after school quizzing process)
Me: Testing? Cool! What did you think?
C1: It was fun! (still really excited)
Me: Fun? (seriously??) Why was it fun?
C1: Because I like filling in the bubbles.
Me: Cool. So, are you going to do more testing tomorrow?
C1: YES!!
So, there you have it. He thinks The Test is fun. I didn't even bother asking if he got the answers right, he clearly didn't care about that part. I'm sure his score will, once again, be Really Really Shitty, but he had fun!! So, fuck it. He gets to take it. It's like a treat!
Me: What did you do in school today?
C1: Good (he always says that! Because he "memorized" the proper answer to "how are you?" and so he always throws this one out first)
Me: No... what did you DO today? (This is always what I say!)
C1: Nothing
Me: Did you hang out with Ms. H?
C1: Yes!
Me: What did you guys do?
C1: We did testing! (he seems very happy about this. In fact, it's pretty unusual that we ever even make it this far in the after school quizzing process)
Me: Testing? Cool! What did you think?
C1: It was fun! (still really excited)
Me: Fun? (seriously??) Why was it fun?
C1: Because I like filling in the bubbles.
Me: Cool. So, are you going to do more testing tomorrow?
C1: YES!!
So, there you have it. He thinks The Test is fun. I didn't even bother asking if he got the answers right, he clearly didn't care about that part. I'm sure his score will, once again, be Really Really Shitty, but he had fun!! So, fuck it. He gets to take it. It's like a treat!
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
I barf on your standardized test!
So, standardized testing starts this week. For anybody with a kid in public school grade two or higher you know what I'm talking about. This is how school districts and states and everybody with an opinion, informed or otherwise, determine "how well" a school is doing. No Child Left Behind puts particular emphasis on the importance of test scores and if you don't do well you end up in what they call "Program Improvement." Our school is in year 5 of PI and I think our district is, too. This is supposed to mean a lot of No Good Really Bad Things for both the school and the district, and I've been hearing of dire warnings for years now about how the entire world will come to a screeching halt once we're in PI Year 5. I'm still waiting for that to happen.
Anyway, I've never known what to do with Child 1 and The Test. He can't take it without what they call "accommodations," which apparently means his score doesn't even count? I honestly have no idea and no matter how much I try I can't seem to find anybody who will explain this to me in a way I can understand it.
First of all, in my personal opinion, I think that relying on standardized test scores to judge how a school is doing is pretty stupid, particularly since (theoretically) the consequences of failing are supposed to be so dire. Not all kids are good at tests, I never was, but that doesn't mean I'm not smart. And it seems like everybody (adults) puts so much pressure on these kids to Do Well On The Test, how could you not crack under that kind of pressure? Not to mention the pressure that teachers get for their students to get good scores. Every teacher I know will tell you that the test isn't a measure of how well their students are doing, it's a measure of how well they are doing, as teachers. And then their teaching ability is judged by their students' scores, sometimes with some pretty fucked up consequences (read that article, I'm going to refer to it later and you're going to feel stupid for not knowing what I'm talking about). I don't understand how The Test is an accurate measure of anything, really.
And then there's that whole "Teach to the test" thing that pisses people off so much, and rightly so IMO. Because of all the pressure for teachers to "do well," all they end up caring about during the school year is making sure the kids know which bubbles to fill in when the time comes, and that becomes their entire focus. When this happens, kids don't get a whole education, they only get the bits and pieces that they'll need once they get that scantron form. This may be an unfortunate truth, but it's obviously stupid.
And then there are all the subgroups and demographics and statistical blah blah blah that I simply do not understand, and frankly I don't even want to understand it. Please don't talk to me about how this particular group of African American kids in this grade and this class need to get this particular percentage because I don't know what you mean.
Okay, so... do I let my kid take the test or not? This is the question that I'm now facing for a second year. Every year I wonder what I should do, every year I ask people for their opinion and every year I still have no idea what I should do. So I end up saying "okay, fuck it, let him take it." Because I doubt he even knows he's taking a test, much less this Very Very Very Important Test. They pull him out of class and into the Learning Closet (formerly known as The Learning Center, but when the district decided to add a fifth 3rd grade class this year, naturally the SPED kids were the first to get the shaft, so they were moved from a nice big classroom and into a closet in order to make room. YAY!) and he hangs out with the Resource Teacher, who he likes and hangs out with all the time, anyway. She tests him, I guess, and he does his thing, I guess, and in the end we get a score in the mail over the summer. This is what we did last year and his scores came back as "Shittiest Scores Ever." That's actually what it said! (No it didn't.)
So, if his score doesn't count (I think) and they all suck, anyway, what the fuck is the point of him taking it? Because whenever the issue comes up, our Principal always STRESSES HOW IMPORTANT IT IS FOR HIM TO TAKE THE TEST REGARDLESS OF THE OUTCOME. Usually the argument is "he's going to be taking tests his whole life, he might as well get used to it," which I have never once bought. Because pulling him out of class to hang out in the Learning Closet, which is something he does every day of the week, doesn't seem to be adequate preparation for a life time of test taking and I don't see how anybody could make the argument that it IS. So I've always thought there was some other motivation going on there, because they really want him to take it... but why?
It was explained to me once that the Resource Specialist and the Principal had some kind of test participation quota they needed to meet and by having Child 1 take the test they were something something percentages good for them? (Okay, it's possible I didn't really understand the explanation; I mean, come on. I'm smart, but I'm not THAT smart!) So, having my kid in the Learning Closet and going through the test motions is a benefit to the school? Even though his score sucks? And it doesn't even count? Well, okay, honestly, I'm cool with that. I have nothing but respect for anybody who would even dare stand up in front of a room full of kids and try to teach them shit, so I usually just do whatever they tell me. If I thought for a second that my kid's self esteem was at all impacted by any of this, I assure you I would have a much stronger opinion about it, but he doesn't seem to give a shit, so neither do I. Fuck it! Let him take it!
But then there's the whole "taking a political stance" by having my kid opt out, which all parents are allowed to do, by the way; nobody is actually required to take the test, despite what school officials will tell you. (Apparently teachers all know this but they're not allowed to tell parents.) And, shit, I'm ALL for taking a political stance if it's something I believe in, but as I've said, I've never been able to get a satisfying explanation from anybody about why I should or shouldn't have my kid take the test, so I've toyed with the idea but never actually done it. But... would my opting him out have been able to help save Rigoberto Ruelas' life, or others that may come after him? That's a good enough reason for me, I'll do anything to help teachers... but is that what I should do? Is it the right thing to do? And if it is... how? And WHY?
Anyway, it's only our 2nd year with this, but I go through this every time we have an IEP and every time the subject is mentioned. And I never know what to do. And I never feel good about what I decide because I've never been able to form a solid opinion on the subject and I don't like being uninformed.
My point? Yes, I do have one: Standardized testing starts this week! And there I was, wondering once again if I was doing the right thing, when Child 1 wakes up and apparently makes the decision for me, in the form of fucking barfing everywhere.... repeatedly. Guess he's not taking the test, after all! Um. Thanks?
Anyway, I've never known what to do with Child 1 and The Test. He can't take it without what they call "accommodations," which apparently means his score doesn't even count? I honestly have no idea and no matter how much I try I can't seem to find anybody who will explain this to me in a way I can understand it.
First of all, in my personal opinion, I think that relying on standardized test scores to judge how a school is doing is pretty stupid, particularly since (theoretically) the consequences of failing are supposed to be so dire. Not all kids are good at tests, I never was, but that doesn't mean I'm not smart. And it seems like everybody (adults) puts so much pressure on these kids to Do Well On The Test, how could you not crack under that kind of pressure? Not to mention the pressure that teachers get for their students to get good scores. Every teacher I know will tell you that the test isn't a measure of how well their students are doing, it's a measure of how well they are doing, as teachers. And then their teaching ability is judged by their students' scores, sometimes with some pretty fucked up consequences (read that article, I'm going to refer to it later and you're going to feel stupid for not knowing what I'm talking about). I don't understand how The Test is an accurate measure of anything, really.
And then there's that whole "Teach to the test" thing that pisses people off so much, and rightly so IMO. Because of all the pressure for teachers to "do well," all they end up caring about during the school year is making sure the kids know which bubbles to fill in when the time comes, and that becomes their entire focus. When this happens, kids don't get a whole education, they only get the bits and pieces that they'll need once they get that scantron form. This may be an unfortunate truth, but it's obviously stupid.
And then there are all the subgroups and demographics and statistical blah blah blah that I simply do not understand, and frankly I don't even want to understand it. Please don't talk to me about how this particular group of African American kids in this grade and this class need to get this particular percentage because I don't know what you mean.
Okay, so... do I let my kid take the test or not? This is the question that I'm now facing for a second year. Every year I wonder what I should do, every year I ask people for their opinion and every year I still have no idea what I should do. So I end up saying "okay, fuck it, let him take it." Because I doubt he even knows he's taking a test, much less this Very Very Very Important Test. They pull him out of class and into the Learning Closet (formerly known as The Learning Center, but when the district decided to add a fifth 3rd grade class this year, naturally the SPED kids were the first to get the shaft, so they were moved from a nice big classroom and into a closet in order to make room. YAY!) and he hangs out with the Resource Teacher, who he likes and hangs out with all the time, anyway. She tests him, I guess, and he does his thing, I guess, and in the end we get a score in the mail over the summer. This is what we did last year and his scores came back as "Shittiest Scores Ever." That's actually what it said! (No it didn't.)
So, if his score doesn't count (I think) and they all suck, anyway, what the fuck is the point of him taking it? Because whenever the issue comes up, our Principal always STRESSES HOW IMPORTANT IT IS FOR HIM TO TAKE THE TEST REGARDLESS OF THE OUTCOME. Usually the argument is "he's going to be taking tests his whole life, he might as well get used to it," which I have never once bought. Because pulling him out of class to hang out in the Learning Closet, which is something he does every day of the week, doesn't seem to be adequate preparation for a life time of test taking and I don't see how anybody could make the argument that it IS. So I've always thought there was some other motivation going on there, because they really want him to take it... but why?
It was explained to me once that the Resource Specialist and the Principal had some kind of test participation quota they needed to meet and by having Child 1 take the test they were something something percentages good for them? (Okay, it's possible I didn't really understand the explanation; I mean, come on. I'm smart, but I'm not THAT smart!) So, having my kid in the Learning Closet and going through the test motions is a benefit to the school? Even though his score sucks? And it doesn't even count? Well, okay, honestly, I'm cool with that. I have nothing but respect for anybody who would even dare stand up in front of a room full of kids and try to teach them shit, so I usually just do whatever they tell me. If I thought for a second that my kid's self esteem was at all impacted by any of this, I assure you I would have a much stronger opinion about it, but he doesn't seem to give a shit, so neither do I. Fuck it! Let him take it!
But then there's the whole "taking a political stance" by having my kid opt out, which all parents are allowed to do, by the way; nobody is actually required to take the test, despite what school officials will tell you. (Apparently teachers all know this but they're not allowed to tell parents.) And, shit, I'm ALL for taking a political stance if it's something I believe in, but as I've said, I've never been able to get a satisfying explanation from anybody about why I should or shouldn't have my kid take the test, so I've toyed with the idea but never actually done it. But... would my opting him out have been able to help save Rigoberto Ruelas' life, or others that may come after him? That's a good enough reason for me, I'll do anything to help teachers... but is that what I should do? Is it the right thing to do? And if it is... how? And WHY?
Anyway, it's only our 2nd year with this, but I go through this every time we have an IEP and every time the subject is mentioned. And I never know what to do. And I never feel good about what I decide because I've never been able to form a solid opinion on the subject and I don't like being uninformed.
My point? Yes, I do have one: Standardized testing starts this week! And there I was, wondering once again if I was doing the right thing, when Child 1 wakes up and apparently makes the decision for me, in the form of fucking barfing everywhere.... repeatedly. Guess he's not taking the test, after all! Um. Thanks?
Monday, May 2, 2011
rock band singing expert points
I wrote this post on Saturday night when I was drunk and have only edited it for the (many, and often hilarious) typos..... hee hee.....
What? My post title is confusing to you? Well, I typed it that way because if you were doing a Google search for this particular issue that's pissing me off, those are probably the terms you would use. SO, maybe if other people did this, they might find me. And be able to help me. So this post isn't necessarily for you, my loyal and wonderful readers... this post is for The Whole Internetz.
(This is not actually me singing, this is a video I found online)
Because, you see, I need help. I've been working on this same song over and over and over and I can't for the life of me figure out what the fuck I'm supposed to be doing differently to make my score better than what it is. But because I'm stupidly competitive in that weird way that we're all aware of I guess, I can't let it go, so I keep trying and trying and trying and trying and always getting pretty much the same result. Only 2,804 more points to get to #13 on the Leaderboard.
Because Fuck You Rock Band. I don't know what you want from me. I've done the same fucking song again and again and I do it "perfectly" every time, and yet, apparently, I don't do it up to your standards. At least not well enough to do any better than I've done all the last times. And it's pissing me off. What am I supposed to be doing differently??? How do you get more points here? What do you want from me, Rock Band?
How the fuck do I do better than I have done? I've sat here in my TV room, by myself I might add, because there's no bass part and hubs got bored... and I've done this song again and again and again AND AGAIN AND AGAIN and I can't do any better than I've done.
WHAT AM I DOING WRONG? OH MY GOD SOMEBODY PLEASE TELL ME.
EDIT: Related
What? My post title is confusing to you? Well, I typed it that way because if you were doing a Google search for this particular issue that's pissing me off, those are probably the terms you would use. SO, maybe if other people did this, they might find me. And be able to help me. So this post isn't necessarily for you, my loyal and wonderful readers... this post is for The Whole Internetz.
(This is not actually me singing, this is a video I found online)
Because, you see, I need help. I've been working on this same song over and over and over and I can't for the life of me figure out what the fuck I'm supposed to be doing differently to make my score better than what it is. But because I'm stupidly competitive in that weird way that we're all aware of I guess, I can't let it go, so I keep trying and trying and trying and trying and always getting pretty much the same result. Only 2,804 more points to get to #13 on the Leaderboard.
 |
| First try. Only 2,804 to get to #13! Awesome! |
 |
| Second try. 1,028 more points and, uh... only 2,804 to get to #13? HUH? |
Because Fuck You Rock Band. I don't know what you want from me. I've done the same fucking song again and again and I do it "perfectly" every time, and yet, apparently, I don't do it up to your standards. At least not well enough to do any better than I've done all the last times. And it's pissing me off. What am I supposed to be doing differently??? How do you get more points here? What do you want from me, Rock Band?
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| #1 has 4,560 more points than I do. HOW? HOW?????????? |
How the fuck do I do better than I have done? I've sat here in my TV room, by myself I might add, because there's no bass part and hubs got bored... and I've done this song again and again and again AND AGAIN AND AGAIN and I can't do any better than I've done.
WHAT AM I DOING WRONG? OH MY GOD SOMEBODY PLEASE TELL ME.
EDIT: Related
Sunday, May 1, 2011
And we have a winner! Actually two winners.
The winners of my first and probably only giveaway I will ever do are K who I don't know, but she said she reads BD's blog a lot so hopefully she'll make her way over here, and Gina from Special Happens, who I do know. YAY YOU GUYS!!!
Child 2 helped me with the whole thing. I asked Child 1 to help but he said he was too busy. Seriously. He was watching train videos on YouTube and that is very time consuming as you know. Here's how we did it:
First I put everybody's name on a piece of paper.
Then we cut them into individual strips
Then we put the strips in a bowl and Child 2 closed his eyes and picked out two of them
And here are the results! YAY!!!
So, Gina and K, please email me at jillsmo@gmail.com with your addresses and I'll get these out to you as soon as I go to the store and buy some mailing envelopes!
Child 2 helped me with the whole thing. I asked Child 1 to help but he said he was too busy. Seriously. He was watching train videos on YouTube and that is very time consuming as you know. Here's how we did it:
First I put everybody's name on a piece of paper.
Then we cut them into individual strips
Then we put the strips in a bowl and Child 2 closed his eyes and picked out two of them
And here are the results! YAY!!!
So, Gina and K, please email me at jillsmo@gmail.com with your addresses and I'll get these out to you as soon as I go to the store and buy some mailing envelopes!
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