Thursday, September 30, 2010

The best thing about my job

For those of you who don't know, I am a substitute teacher.  Everytime I say this, I think of Peggy Hill from the cartoon show "King of the Hill".  She's been known to say in her Texan accent " I am a substitute Spanish Teacher, los estudiantes son mis amigos"

What is it with Google search?  I googled Peggy Hill in Images and there are two pictures of Peggy in pornographic poses!

Anyhoo-
The reasons I love my job:
* I get a do-over every day.  If one day sucks, the next day will be different.  Sometimes I get a do-over mid day with two classes.  I can actually create a do-over by announcing to the class after a break "this is how we are going to behave differently the rest of the day", or " this is how I messed up earller" (depending on the circumstances.

* I can pick and choose.  I'm not too choosy because I like to work.  But If I only want to work certain days- I only work those days.  If I only like certain grades, I only accept jobs from those.  If I need a day off, I take it by either not booking a job for that day or by canceling a job ( another sub will take it in 3 seconds)

*I work some classes repeatedly and the students and teachers know me.  My favorite one of these I worked today- it's a preschool class.  I just dig those little guys.  I get 20 hugs goodbye every time.

* I get other bonuses too besides hugs- I get dandelions, little trinkets or candies, a round of applause, a "you're cool" from a teenybopper, and sometimes PTA gives me delicious mexican food and cookies (like yesterday).  Often, the schools will have coffee as well.  The school I worked at today always has hot coffee ready when I come in.

*I get home before 4 every day. Some days I am home before noon.

* I pick my attire.  No khaki pants and red polos for me!  I wear whatever I want (as long as it isn't inappropriate, but no one wants to see ME in inapprpriate clothing anyway (especially me).  I like to dress up a bit most of the time.  I really love skirts and nice shirts and heels.  I also love dresses.  But with the ankle, I've been wearing flats.  and with the weather and current closet choices, my dresses aren't as dressy and sometimes have capri leggings under them.  I still look like a teacher.

* I have a whistle.  and I use it.

* It's my job to talk and play with kids,.  all day long. 

* Every school is under 10 miles away.

*Kids are funny.  I laugh and smile often (especially with my little guys)

* I am practically my own boss. I deal only with the kids (who rank under me).  I do have to report to the school and teacher, but I am never questioned or second guessed.  I am respected (mostly- I don't work highschool :)  )


* I get recess.

* I go on field trips.  To the zoo.

Wednesday, September 29, 2010

ABC = K (my favorite letter!)

It's ABC Wednesday- I've found quite a few Yiddish K words on yiddish word websites- some I've cut and pasted

KASNIK- hothead (they have a lot of words for this, don't they?)

KIBITZ: To offer comments which are often unwanted during a game, to tease or joke around. A kibitzer gives unasked for advice.

KINE-AHORA: A magical phrase to ward off the evil eye or to show one's praises are genuine and not tainted by envy. ( I have to check out these terms- this interests me)***

KISHKA: Intestines, belly. To hit someone in the "kishka" means to hit him in the stomach or guts.

KLUTZ: An awkward, uncoordinated person.

KLOP: a hard punch

KOSHER: Refers to food that it prepared according to Jewish law. More generally kosher means legitimate
.
KRANK- sick

KVELL: To beam with pride and pleasure, Jewish parents are prone to kvell over their children's achievements.

KVETCH: To annoy or to be an annoying person, to complain.

KVITSCH- scream

(Here's one for British readers) Knacker- a big shot


The Knacker kept kibitzing with the kvetch next to me.  They were so loud, I wanted to kvitsch, but instead I gave the kibitzer a klop in the kishka making him feel krank.  In order not to appear like a kasnik, I pretended to trip, called myself a klutz, and lamely apologized.

OH! I give up.  I was going to post a picture by googling "punch stomach"  but on something like page ten, I actually saw an up close picture of a woman's vagina.  I, of course, wondered what it had to do with punch and stomach so I went to the website.  Some forum asked people to post pictures of naked chicks that had been sent to their cell phones.  One guy had a disgusting story about punching and stomach.  I never expected to see a vagina up close when googling either of those terms.

ewww
TTYL, K

Monday, September 27, 2010

Lunes Lunacy 7

I was going to grump today about the weather- but we all know how fickle Mother Nature can be.  It looks like she's already pissed and trying to send us directly to hades.  It is 105 degrees outside (that's almost 41 celcius), and it is barely noon.
I had a call this morning to go into work.  But I was fighting a migraine hangover and the call allowed me only 45 minutes to get there.  It's a half hour drive anywhere, so I'd have only 15 minutes to get showered and ready.  I didn't take the job.  I feel guilty.  But seeing the temperature and knowing most classrooms have little to no airconditioning, I feel way less guilty.  I have a migraine waiting to creep in right now, and a hot classroom would have set it off instantly.  Plus, fourth graders really smell when they are sweaty.

Instead, I am going to grump about my weight.  I know, I am such a hypocrite because a few weeks ago I grumped about lack of body acceptance.  I'm pretty OK with my body right now as it currently is- but a few things make me grump.
My doctor chewed me out for gaining weight.  I put a few pounds on over the summer.  OK- ten pounds.  That was from lack of exercise and lots of drink.  I'm getting older too, so I'd like to blame it on that. 

I had planned to start dieting.  It's easy, right?  I used to do it all the time.  Even as a teen, I could count calories with the best of them.  But the problem is, either my mom or I cooked when I was a teen- and we liked chicken and veggies, and healthy foods.  Plus, I didn't like beer then.  and I had a better metabolism. and I was better at saying no.

Now I am in a house where someone else cooks.  He likes only corn (with lots of butter) or greenbeans (with bacon fat).  He makes scalloped or fried potatoes, macaroni and cheese, fried porkchops, steak.  I was buying groceries so I could make healthy dinners for us, and to add veggies and fruits to my diet, but I have enough money to buy gas until the end of October when I get paid, and that's it.

I started walking.  Then my ankle was aching.  then the heat wave came.  I walked last thursday about 2 miles.  I rewarded myself with beer.  I'm sure exercise shouldn't be a means to a reward.  It's boring to walk in circles.  I like walking to the store- but again, I am broke.  I miss Curves.  I felt strong and had a good time going there.  I might join a gym- we will see.  I have another excuse about that though- I have to be home right after school to book a job, and people don't want me to drive my scooter in the dark, so it's difficult to go to the gym.  I guess I'll keep walking.

The weight I am at is OK.  But I need to buy clothes that fit, especially pants.  and I hate the tire that flops over my legs when I sit down.  We won't even discuss shaving my bikini line.  Maybe I could win the lottery and get a tummy tuck (and be an even bigger hypocrite).


I'm not writing this to get sympathy.  I don't need accolades.  I'm writing this because I believe at some time or another, every one of you has hit a wall as well.  It's like the point where Homer Simpson just decided to buy and wear mumus. 

I am still making a concerted effort to eat healthily- and haven't bought beer for home (though I did have 2 delicious beers yesterday- Hoptober and one with hazelnut). I don't even have wine at home, cuz I'll drink it!  So hopefully, a few pounds will creep off before I go to the doctor again.  Boy, was it so much easier when I was a teenager (and even then I didn't appreciate my size 7 body- youth is wasted on the young!) 

What do you have to grump about?

Friday, September 24, 2010

Losing and finding my religion

The topic for this week's spin cycle on Sprite's Keeper is religion.  Whilst most people shy away from this topic of conversation, I feel confident to talk about it- to anyone and everyone.

I grew up pretty much a Christian of various denominations.  When I was about 6, my mom had a baptist church bus come pick me up for bible study every Sunday morning.  At about 10, when I lived with my father, I chose to go to a methodist church.  As an early teen, I attended the Catholic church with my friend's family.  Later in my teen years I tried the baptist church that now boyfriend went to. We'd also go to bible study together when hosted at lunch in school.

During those years, I felt a fire to be a godly person.  I read the bible on my own time.  I attended church because I chose to.  I tried to understand the bible and live according to "its" rules.  I was troubled about some things (like premarital sex), or why it seemed I'd be judged by minor discrepancies even though I was a good person inside.  I didn't question much though.  I was a good girl.  Good girls don't question (I don't know where I ended up with that idea because my mom surely didn't teach it to me).  Good girls and good Christians just have faith.


When I was 18/19 I met Ex and his mom.  His mom reads tarot cards for a living.  She showed me there was a different way to view religion.  For a while I was reading new age books and searching for something to label my religious philosophy with.  I'd say I was spiritual and not really religious.  I still wasn't sure.

When I was 26, My middle child was diagnosed with cancer.  I felt like I needed religion.  I chose the Catholic church near our home.  I chose Catholicism because I liked the ritual of it, and Ex was baptised Catholic.  The kids were all baptised Catholic in that church.  I went to Catholic 101 classes.  Both ex and I couldn't just buy in to it and have faith.  We asked too many questions.  While in the hospital, I did the rosary because I liked the chant.  I tried to pray.  I put crosses up in my home.  But I never felt that FIRE that I had felt as a teenager.  It was sad that I couldn't fully embrace that religion because that church sure as heck embraced my family.  They paid for our son's cremation and memorial service.  They sent cards to the hospital.  The packed big backpacks full of goodies for our other kids' flight home.  They were good people and great Christian role models.


The next year we ended up with friends who attended a baptist church.  Again I went.  Again, lots of questions, no fire.  Why does God have to be a guy?  Why is he angry and vengeful?  Does he really want to hear Joe Schmo pray for his football team to win? Does he really believe an adulterous or fornicating woman should be stoned to death?  Does he really hate shrimp?

We moved again- back to our old town, back near mother in law.  I read some books she suggested that were metaphysical and comforting about death.  I yelled at God,  if there was one.  I became bitter and cynical.  I knew I believed in something.  Energy, spirit, something or someone to thank.  Look at a giraffe, someone had to paint him to look like that!

A friend took me to a Unitarian Universalist church.  We meditated.  I tried a Buddhist temple.  We meditated.  Both were lovely, both I knew little about.  I continued to question and to flail in a nonreligious purgatory.

Then, in 2001 I met him- the most wonderful anthropology teacher ever.  He had studied with the lakota Souix.  His story was amazing: he had been searching like I had, and a Souix saw him at a gift shop, walked up to him, gave him his phone number, and told him he'd be right over when the teacher wanted to learn.  Teacher was stunned.  He called a while later.  Souix moved into his house and taught him.  Teacher even did a dreamquest.  I decided to take his religion, witchcraft, and magic class.

Teacher's daughter is a witch.  She and her coven came into class.  A Peyote came in another night.  We read about Hinduism, Buddhism, Muslims, and Jews.  We learned about religious books.  Teacher was open and non-judgmental.  It was wonderful.

I started reading up on paganism.  It felt good.  I felt the fire again.  A few practices under the pagan umbrella appealled to me.  I tried on the title Pagan, and decided it was good.  I read a lot.  I read books that showed connections between paganism and Christianity- Timothy Freke was the author.  I read paganism 101.  I wanted to know more about Wicca.  I read.  I went to boards online.  I debated whether it was a lineaged and exclusive religion.  Then I realized it wasn't quite right for me.  There are a few things that don't add up.

I realized that I can't have a label when it comes to religion.  I call myself a witch.  Some will argue that witchcraft is an act, not a religion.  I feel comfortable calling it a religion.  I think it makes me a better person.  I can see how it benefits me and the world.  I feel closer to nature and divine energies.  I feel a responsibility for people, earth, nature, myself, animals, etc... that I never felt with other religions.

I still have questions.  I probably always will.  I mull over hard or soft pantheos.  I mull over Godhead versus energy.  I don't know if Gods exist or if they are merely an idea to describe energies.  I try things out to see if they work for me (a lot of what I do can be backed up by science, which I love).  The cool thing is, that I can question in this religion.  I can also take the steps to find the answers myself.  I don't need a leader to tell me.  I can be free to really experience and feel the religion.  I am a better person for it.

I could go on forever- but I hear the call of margaritas!
ttyl, K

Thursday, September 23, 2010

Mabon and giving thanks.

Last night we had a full moon.  It was a lovely harvest moon (it's still full right now).  AND it's the first time in 9 years that we've had a full moon on the same night of the autumnal equinox (it happened her at 11:13 last night_ fall is officially here)

In some Pagan traditions, Fall equinox is also called Mabon.  It's traditionally a harvest time, and a time for thanksgiving.  So, in honor of Mabon, I am making a list of things I am thankful for- not in any particular order.

I am thankful for/ blessed to have:
* Great parents who are understanding, nurturing, and supportive.
*Kids I can be proud of
*A boyfriend who is not only a wonderful partner, but is also a fabulous friend
*An Ex who is a good father to our children and a friend to me
*Real and true friends, including my brother (and mom for that matter)
*A Job that I totally love, and the chance that someday I might work full time
*A warm home
*good and plentiful food
*Sunny California weather
* Sunrises and sunsets


*The ability to enjoy nature everyday-
*My degrees and time in college (but not my debt from said time period)
*some clothes that still fit
*My health
*time - time to read, to create, to relax.
*wine, beer, dessert, pumpkin flavored anything
*coffee
*the ability to make my own decisions- democracy, freedom of religion, being a grown up
* marbles, buttons, sock creatures, crayons, clay, paint, glue, i-phones, nooks and e-books for free, new shoes at 5 bucks a pair, pretty eyes, working legs( and the rest of the body for that matter, hands to pet fuzzy animals like kitties and doggies (and guinea pigs and rats and hamsters and horses), the lack of fear of spiders from my Uncle, mint growing in my backyard, basil growing in my house, gnomes in my garden, hugs from kids, snow globes, gum, my stepdogger Noli, my fish Ollie, to have known and loved my son Tobin, candles, magic, crystals, rocks, shiny objects, quilts, pedicures, haircuts, pretty dresses, raindrops on roses, whiskers on kittens, bright copper kettles, warm woolen mittens, brown paper packages tied up with strings, a murder of crows that talk to me as I walk, a park across the street full of ducks, picture books made by my mom, chinese food, pasta, pizza
and a million more lovely wonderful little things I could list.............
TTYL! K

Wednesday, September 22, 2010

No Yiddish for J

So, I'll post an update about my week and discuss the benefits of my ride.
Isn't she lovely?
This week has been pretty darn OK.  I worked tuesday and today as a sub.  Both teachers (like one I met last week) asked me for my card so they could call me again as they like to reuse the same subs who are familiar with the class.  I was also able to say hi to my favorite preschool teacher and aide who will be booking me later in the year when she has meetings.  YAY!  Future jobs are good.

Sooo, in order to get to these jobs, I hop on Bruumhilde in the picture up there.  Here's the benefits:  She gets 110 miles per gallon.  Her insurance and registration each cost under a hundred per year.  I can smell fresh coffee and donuts in the air each morning.  I can't overspend at a store because I don't have a trunk in which to carry loads of things. 
Since I am in Southern California, rain rarely interupts my drive- I think 2 days last year I found an alternative mode of transportation.  and, I am getting really good at anticipating idiot drivers.

Off to get stuff together for a 1/2 day job tomorrow. 

TTYL! K

Tuesday, September 21, 2010

Straighten up and fly (oops) right.

My mom recommended that I meditate more.  I think she thinks I need to calm down.  It's true, I do.  So, I've been doing a bit of magic and meditation daily.  I've also again tried to find my "spirit animal". In case you don't know what a spirit animal is:
a spirit animal is a spiritual animal who is there to guide you or teach you a lesson.  There are also power animals that link to your personality and totem animals.  The concepts are all shamanistic and similar.

So, one particular meditation I mentally asked "what is my spirit animal?"  and an answer came back!  Supposedly, I am supposed to meditate my way on a walk through a forest and my animal will appear.  But in meditative walks, I'd plant animals I like there:  a cat, a crow, a rat, a spider.  I didn't think any of these could be my animal because it seemed too easy that I liked them.  They might be a power animal- I can see how I'd link to a crow or spider easily.  But... Someone told me in my head (was it my muse talking to me again?) that it was an emu.

An Emu?  the only interaction I've had with an emu was slightly negative.  The bird was peckish and angry and hissssed at me.  It hissed at Me, lover of all things animal!  Why the heck would some spirit play such an odd practical joke on me and call this thing my power animal?

I spent some time looking up this bird. In real life, the bird is kinda cool.  It'll steal food and follow people around.  I always like mischievous critters (ahem, crow).  In shamanistic or spirit animal circles, it has some lessons that fit me.

"emu



The Emu is a symbol of blame and forgiveness. In many Aboriginal Dreamtime stories the Emu is cast as a troublesome, unreasonable and quarrelsome creature, who missed special opportunities and friendships due to the instigation of conflict. The message of the Emu is the examination of personal fears, unrealistic expectations and communications to bring harmony to relationships"

OK- I have to interject here! I dreamt the other night how I was in an airport with way too much luggage.  I had crap falling out of the luggage everywhere.  I couldn't find my passport or glasses.  I couldn't see anything with blurry eyes.  I was even, apparently, trying to pack a lawn mower- that's way too much luggage.  At one point, my birth father (sperm donor) came up and talked to me.  He remained on the other side of the wall, but he talked to me.  Just him being in a dream about luggage made me think that there was a message for me here.
Message?: I carry too damn much luggage.  It's my own decision.  I carry personal fears and unrealistic expectations.  I carry hurts and pains and bitterness for too long.  I can't see how people put up with me- I am a pain in the butt (grin)(but I am)

OH- and I tend to get quarrelsome.  Not on purpose.  Just when I am the mood for a good debate, or when I can't understand why people do something.  I ask them why- and I really want to know- really want to understand- but it comes our like a peckish bird.
Emu’s Wisdom Includes:

Travel and Adventure

Exploring

Faithfulness to Your Partner

Freedom

Action and Attentiveness

Inner Fire

Curiosity



Emu is a powerful teacher and guide. It promotes spiritual excellence and achievement by encouraging diligence, hard work, respect and humility in the lives of those it visits. Emu demands great application of time, energy and love to all spiritual pursuits and can guide those who seek knowledge down paths of wisdom.
 When emu appears in your life, it is time to apply some mettle and hard work to your situation. Emu doesn't permit laziness, and emu energy is not very relaxing or soothing.
Until this week I had been sitting on the couch and sleeping til noon.  School's in sessiona nd heck yeah- I better get moving.  I'm also working on getting a more stable job.  But emu was right- these things are not knocking on my door, I need to find them.
The freedom thing comes with the changes my life has been going through in the past few years- no longer is my life dictated by elementary school schedules or schooling.  I have my degree.  My kids take great care of themselves and live with their dad.  I now need to buck up and get moving- I have no excuses. 
The faithfullness thing is huge- faithful, not as in cheating, but as in trusting.  I have to stop being a doubter, a pusher, a nagger.  I have to realize that this relationship with boyfriend is not other relationships.  He's a different person.

All aspects of journeying are indicated when the presence of emu is about. Emu energy pushes those who practice visualisation or shamanic journeying in the direction of performing these rituals more often for spiritual sustenance. But emu's presence also refers to literal every day journeys; those that nourish us. How often do you go to the doctor's or dentist's for a check up? How often do you take yourself out to places where you can nurture your physical body, or stimulate your mind? Emu pushes all people to make more frequent journeys.

Yeah, how often?

On a more 'everyday' level, the presence of emu can warn against themes of infidelity, adultery or concepts relating to 'cheating'. It may be something which has occurred, or that you worry about. Emu reminds us that infidelity is not, like many events that we judge, either 'good' or 'bad.' As with many things, it can have healthy and unhealthy consequences.
Um.....
Though I do always love a lesson in consequences.  It's true.  We get what we earn and deal with it.

When emu decides to communicate with you, you generally know about it! Emu gets in touch through deep noises. The sounds of cars backfiring, the 'oom' of the emu itself, or the base thump of loud music in a car speeding by. Emu communicates its presence in a primal way, through drum beats, booming and thumping. Emu is the animal that stirs the undergrowth, that thuds across the land when it runs with others of its kind, that crashes into the fence that holds it at bay.
I live near Los Angeles- Emu talks to me a lot.
Emu encourages you to pay attention! And emu can teach you how to communicate in a way that makes others stand up and take notice of what you have to say. Emu can be a very powerful, primal orator, and teaches this to others.
Though I should think before I orate.

Those who fear or dislike emu may find that wish for excellence and achievement, yet consistently neglect to put any work into their endeavours. They might be all talk, no action. They might mean well at the beginning, but get distracted. Emu tells you to focus! Connect with spirituality as a source of energy and commit yourself to something. You only find excellence and achievement if you work, and work hard.
True that.
Like all animal helpers, this animal will only appear when right and appropriate, and cannot be forced to visit you, commune with you, or share messages with you. Emu is a task-master, and a demanding totem animal. Emu responds to people who are strong-minded, law-abiding, willful but respectful. He will sometimes accept offerings of crystal and stone, casuarina (sheoak) needles, and effigies of himself before appearing in visualisation or in a shamanic journey. When emu shows up during journeying, he usually is there to play an active role and can be very firm about pointing you in the direction he wants you to go.
Great, now an animal is going to push me around.  But- he never showed himself to me, he has someone announce him- so now do I have to draw or sew an Emu so he'll come around and get this lesson on with?
Emu can be an impatient teacher, and because he demands excellence, will walk away from those who are naturally lazy or unable to apply themselves to tasks. If you are approaching emu, think twice about whether you are able - at this time in your life - to satisfy whatever requirements or requests that he may have. Offending emu can have far-reaching consequences in the spirit world, and for the reason I don't recommend that beginners approach him.

But he approached me, so I better straighten up and fly (oooh- bad irony) right.
 
they have such pretty eggs! 
 
TTYL, K

Monday, September 20, 2010

Lunes Lunacy

This is going to be a quick one- I am realllly tired and have a cold I need to beat before tomorrow.
I don't know why the other blog post I had written to be scheduled for Friday did not appear~ Oh well, I'll post it tomorrow.

My gripe for the week.  The word Immediately.  People say UH-mediately.  It's not UH.  I is never UH.  It can be said as an eye sound like ibuprophen.  Though eye-mediately sounds weird.  It can be said like an ih sound as in interm.  Ih-mediately.  It might even be said with and eeee sound like irrevocable.  EE-mediately.  Though I might even fight you on that because I noticed the eee sound is only in words that follow the i with an R.  Irrestistable.  Irrelevant.

While we are at it- I'd like everyone to stop using apostrophes ( ' ) in plural words, please.  It's not taco's.  Unless taco is a guy and we are talking about something he owns.  Like Taco's truck.  The little ' symbol denotes ownership, not more than one.  The girls went to the store.  It's the girls' store (that means the store belongs to more than one girl).  It's the girl's store (that means the store belongs to one girl). 

I know- I know.  In my blog posts I use poor grammar, misspell lots of things, and use bad punctuation and odd characters like ~ and - .  But it's artistic license! It took me a long time to learn to misspell words in order to text or write in a conversational tone.  I still cringe when I write dunno, but sometimes it is better than do not know.  Ya know?

that's it.  I'm going back to bed.  I already ate a souper meal because chicken noodle soup is supposed to help.  My mommy would tell me to take alka seltzer plus cold medicine.  Or use aloe vera.  I already took a cold medicine, mommy, and I have vick's vapor rub.

ttyl! K

Thursday, September 16, 2010

I was going to prank someone- but realized I have no time.  Boyfriend brings his pimped golf carts to sports shows, and a big one is this weekend.  I had planned to make snacks today, maybe go hunt for a green dress to wear to the show (goodwill, walmart), and blog my heart out.  But he just called and said he was putting me to work! I guess I'll get off my lazy butt. So, instead, I am leaving you with a cute cat video.  This is Lazer who is after a penny on the trampoline. 



 




I prewrote a post for tomorrow, but will be working all weekend!
TTYL! K

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

"I" might imply what to post tomorrow.....

I on ABC WEDNSDAY!  And I have a few I words to post in Yiddish.  But after that I will lead you to an inane impromptu idea for a post you can do>>>>

Ibberbuttle - Senile
Iker - Substance; people of substance
Ipish - Bad odor, stink

Yeah- the rest looks German to me because they all start out with Ich, so that doesn't count as an I word, does it?  Iker reminded me of the word ILK- but that's Scottish.

She used to be an Iker lady, but she must be ibberbuttle because there's an ipish coming from her diaper or something .
Oofta! Oy Vey, that was bad.

Here's an idea I promised you.  Aunt Becky at Mommy wants Vodka posted an idea that I might follow through with tomorrow.  She talks about upping your views in google by pranking a celebrity name in your blog.  Who should I write about?  I might just have an idea.

Tuesday, September 14, 2010

Lunes Lunacy

My mom got way ahead of me- primarily because she was on time and I wasn't.  Lunes is Monday in Spanish, and I planned to post my Monday gripe, but I actually worked yesterday and then went out with a friend after work.  In between I scored a half day job I already did today, made dinner, and washed the dog- so I ran out of time for blogging.
Here's my mom's concoction of gripes- some are quite funny. Like an egg on a BBQ>

and here's my gripe for today:
It comes from the headlines last week.  I accidentally watched the news, which means the people around me have to hear me screaming "what an idiot" at the TV.  Yep, the news is full o'idiots.  This day was no better.

The backstory:
Some dude, who happened to be a Guatemalan immigrant, was walking around the street brandishing a knife.  He waved it at a lady and child, I believe, threatening them.    The police, thinking this was trouble waiting to happen, approached the guy asking him to put down his weapon and come with them.  The dude lunged at the police!  With a knife!!! intending to hurt the police!!! One policeman (who happened to be of Mexican descent, I believe) shot him.
The whole city was in an uproar!  The people, all "minorities" were deeply upset that a cop would shoot an immigrant.  They were upset deadly force was used.  They were angry and accusing the police if racism- saying that police kill a lot of minorities every year purposely.

WTH? Every time a non-white is touched by the police, all of Los Angeles goes into an uproar.  Sentences like "he was a good kid, he didn't deserve to be hurt", or "the cops are all racist and mean", or "why aren't the punishing the cops?"

WAIT! WAIT! Your good kid was in a gang and tried to kill the arresting policeman.  Or that Guatemalan might have been a nice man, but he was shoving a knife at everyone near him.  Your friend, who was hispanic/black/ asian was arrested by an officer of the same race, how can that be racist? 

Yep, sometimes police can get a little carried away with the firepower.  But usually not.  They are trained years and years to use their gun when necessary to protect themselves and society around them. 

HOWEVER- let's start taking a little responsibility for our actions, m'kay?  If your son is a gun wielding gangster, he's likely to be hurt (by a cop or another gangster), and quite frankly, I think he deserves it- to be hurt or locked up, as he has most likely hurt, injured, or maimed someone through violence or drugs.  If your husband is running around shoving a knife into people's faces, I don't care if he is the Queen of Sheba, steps need to be taken to restrain him, and if those steps get to the point where he is shot, too bad.  Yeah, I said it, too bad.  He endangered his own life when he grabbed that knife and shoved it at the officer.  The officer took the steps he felt necessary (I am certain officers don't just kill to have another stick in their tally).

If that officer decided not to shoot a man who was lunging a knife at your kid, we'd hear about that too.  What's the officer supposed to do?  I'll tell you- the officer is NOT supposed to make you happy picking and choosing who to protect and who to subdue.  The officer is supposed to subdue the BAD GUY.  If your kid or husband, who happens to be of a "minority" race, is the BAD GUY- then the cops should do what they deem necessary.  That's it.  End of story.

I'm sick of hearing whiny people complaining about those who protect them and their family.  I'm sick of expectations that people be treated special because of their skin color (we should all be treated equally).  I'm sick of people making excuses or allowences for their poorly behaving kids.  Get a grip,  Take responsibility.  Thank a cop.

Saturday, September 11, 2010

Tag You're it!

Lyn at Witchblog tagged me today!  I don't always do a saturday blog, but it sounded easy :)
I do enjoy Lyn's blog- you should check her out.
she asks:
1. Why did you start blog­ging? 
I started blogging so the words in my head had somewhere to go besides in my boyfriend's ear and out his other.

2. If you could travel any­where in the world with no restric­tion of costs, where would it be and why?
I want to go to Greece and see the temples, England to tour the henges, and Ireland to just see it. I like the older places and the architecture.  I want to sit in pubs and drink beer and eat food I am unacustomed to.

3. Did you have a teacher in school that had a great influ­ence on your life? If so, what?
Most of the teachers in my life were influential.  I wanted to be a teacher from an early age.
In college (when I was in my 30's), I took an anthropology class and then a Magic, Witchcraft and religion class- That teacher is a religious student of the Lakota Souix.  His daughter is a witch.  He opened my eyes to all the beauty in world religions, and freed me to choose my own. 


4. If you could spend the day with a famous per­son, who would it be, and what would you do?
Can I have a translator?  I'd dg seeing Michelanglo or DaVinci at work.  If no translator, Having a beer with Ben Franklin would be fun.  I hear he was a party man.

5. Toi­let paper — over or under?
Over.  If you don't loop it over the top, it is so hard to find.  Under hits the wall.

6. Name one thing in your life that you would do over if pos­si­ble.
Nope.  We are a culmination of all our activities and experiences.  If I change one thing, the rest changes as well.  I might not be thrilled with my poverty and current state of affairs now, but I wouldn't change them.

7. Tell about your pets — if any.
I have a step-dogger.  She's cute and huge (husky).  But I am more of a cat person.  I'd love a cat, or a rat, or a gerbil, or a guinea pig.  But mostly a cat or three.  Oh! I have a betta fish,  His name is Oliie.  I can hear him chew his food.

8. Do you live in a small town or a large town?
I live in a big town- but I'd love to live in a small town, especially if I had money.  I could order anything I needed via the web and craft in peace.

The rules for the Blog With Substance award tells you to thank the person who nominated you (done), sum up your blogging philosophy, motivation & experience in 10 words ( voice my opinion and release emotions in a healthy way.) and to nominate 10 blogs to receive the award. I’m going to skip the last bit and pass it on to Mara from Weighty Matters

Friday, September 10, 2010

It has to be said....

I was going to write an outdoorsy post, but this post from I'M NOT HANNAH really intrigued me.  Rather than having you all go to that link- because you might not, and I really want you to read it- I'm going to cut and past the whole darn thing here.  I did not write this....NOT HANNAH did.  but she's saying what I have tried to say before- she just says it a whole heck of a lot better.

"Friday, September 10, 2010We're Gonna Need a Bigger Trowel


Have you heard about the nutjob in Florida who wants to burn the Qu'ran tomorrow? (I'm kidding. Because ein the entire world knows about his freakish dumbassery by now.) I've avoided writing about it here because I think pretty much we are frickin' saturated in religious fear and hatred right now, and I'm ready to NOT be saturated by it. I'd like to take a break from the saturation, please. One non-saturated country, with fireworks on the side, thanks.
What?




Yeah, I know. It's just...



Here's the thing, y'all: it's tough not being a Christian in America.



Now, don't get me wrong. I'm not saying I feel persecuted, because I don't. It's not like people are banging on my door and dragging me out in the street and branding me or something. And even if I did start marching around proclaiming my Paganicity, I don't think the dragging and branding would happen. And although it occurs to me that maybe that's because I'm "safe" so far--I'm not easily labeled based solely on appearance and I've studied the Bible and have a healthy respect for Jesus and so can pass in situations in which Christianity is discussed--I still am not necessarily worried about the bad stuff right now. (Right NOW. I'll get to that later.)



But it's wearing to be bombarded with it all the time: the sniveling, lying Glenn Beck talking about restoring America's honor by getting on our knees and praying. The ugly governor's primary race in our state, during which two people tried to out-Christian each other by being the most hateful to gays. The idiotic comments about how Muslims can't tell us what to do in "our country"--including, presumably, Muslim Americans. The eightybluedamnmillion "If you love Jesus, click like" incarnations on Facebook. (Seriously, dude? Jesus is fine. It's YOU that gets on my every last nerve.)




Oh, oh, OH--and THEN I have to hear about how persecuted Christians are because people want to change America. Seriously? Christians in America have no CONCEPT of persecution unless they are A: Quakers (who got kicked out of the Massachusetts colony by the crazyass Puritans) or B: Mormons (who were driven across the country by pissed off Missourians) or C: converted Native Americans who got the shaft in seventy different ways. Today's Christians? Not so much, y'all, not so much.



I mean...we are talking about a single religion driving the legislation and policy of a country, which sounds a lot less like "persecution" and a lot more like "theocracy." In fact, it sounds a great deal like the antithesis of what Thomas Jefferson et al were doing when they were laying down the foundation for our country. A few days ago, I came across a story about the Baptist Association of Danbury, Connecticut. Nutshell: In 1801, this group of men wrote a letter to Thomas Jefferson that basically asked for his endorsement of the idea that a state can't legislate religion, which Connecticut's state Constitution did. The Baptists in Connecticut were putting forth a campaign to oppose this and needed Jefferson's "stamp of approval." In the letter, the BADC wrote: "...religion is at all times and places a matter between God and Individuals - That no man ought to suffer in Name, person or effects on account of his religious Opinions - That the legitimate Power of Civil Government extends no further than to punish the man who works ill to his neighbor." They went on to explain how their state sort of jumped all over this idea, and then elaborated on their fears of what those who meld religion and government would do: ...those, who seek after power and gain under the pretence of government and Religion should reproach their fellow man - should Reproach their Chief Magistrate, as an enemy of Religion, Law and good order because he will not, dare not assume the prerogative of Jehovah and make Laws to govern the kingdom of Christ." Thomas Jefferson replied, in his eloquent awesomeness: "I contemplate with sovereign reverence that act of the whole American people which declared that their legislature should "make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof," thus building a wall of separation between Church & State."
That might be a lot of stuff to throw at you, but the basic gist is this:




BACD: It sucks that we can't have religious freedom in our state. We think that the government ought to let people practice religion the way they want to unless it hurts other people, because this is the definition of religious freedom. We think that people who use religion to legislate run the risk of being so power hungry that they'll try to tell people how to worship.



TJ: Word. I'm down with this and can I get a "what what!" for the wall that separates Church and State in our Constitution?



If you research this further, you'll find that David "I make stuff up" Barton leads a charge against this whole premise by saying that A: the BACD were actually trying to get TJ to convince them that the First Amendment (that had been around for ten years or so) was really real or that B: the wall of separation was only meant to protect churches from government, and not the other way around. Which is, in my educated opinion, a steaming pile of horse crap.




What all this boils down to is that from the beginning, our country was founded on the idea that a person shouldn't be pushed around because of his or her religion. Wanna know one reason why? Massachusetts Colony, baby. In addition to banishing, branding, and hanging folks that didn't worship like them...well, no. That's pretty much it. The founders looked at the giant mess of theocracy that Massachusetts was, mixed it up with the whole Catholic/Protestant awfulness of the country they were leaving behind and said, "Um, thanks, but no. We're gonna go with the William Penn model." In fact, both the Declaration AND the Constitution were driven by ideals Penn shared and worked for. Go here to read about the utopia William Penn envisioned. It failed, but it was a great idea and...dare I say...quite progressive for the times.



I do NOT want our nation to fail the way the Pennsylvania colony did. Wanna know what happened when Penn removed himself from it to deal with family issues and ill health? The charter document was changed so that Jews and non-Christians could not hold public office. This, my friends, is the biggest reason it sucks to not be a Christian in America right now. Annoying FB status updates aside, watching Conservative, Bible-thumping legislators talk about changing the 14th and 10th Amendments, or watching them talk about how Muslims aren't WORTHY of 1st Amendment protections scares the shit out of me. Whether or not the president is a Christian is now, apparently, a voting issue for many people. The media fans the flames (literally, in the case of the douchebag in Florida) and people become so hateful in their religious zealotry that not only do they turn their backs on the Founding Fathers and our Constitution, they turn their backs on their deity. Worse than that, more FEARSOME than that is that when one religion assumes so much political power, the needs and freedoms of those of us who do not practice that religion are threatened. I feel threatened right now. Not persecuted, but wondering if the persecution will come if Beck and Deal and Ramsey and their friends get the power they want.




The wall of separation between Church and State is important. It's important not because I am a Pagan or because you are a Christian or my friend is an atheist. It's important because religious passion is a powerful thing, and it blinds people to all else BUT it. You pair that with a charismatic speaker or a majority in Congress or a few thousand people attending a book-burning and you are looking at a democracy breaker. And even if you are a Christian and you feel comfortable that you will be okay in a theocracy, you better consider what happened to Britain when the monarchy and the Church duked it out for centuries--and what is STILL happening in parts of Britain today.



That wall has been crumbling for years, y'all. And we need to fix it. We need to shore it up and seal it up. And--given Beck's starry-eyed followers and the xenophobic rage I've been hearing about for a month--I think we're gonna need a bigger trowel to do it. "
 
 
Thanks, NotHannah, for saying it.
 
TTYL, K

Thursday, September 9, 2010

We have different lives now....

Mama Kat set up a writer's worshop for us...and I got inspired by her first two choices, so Imma gonna do this instead of what I had planned- m'kay?

I can never do this by the rules.  I don't know why.  This time, I'm taking two choices and morphing them into one: what I no longer have in common with my single friends, and what I no longer have in common with my married friends, and why I love them anyway.

Do I even have friends?

Ok- we have to start with my story.  I got married young.  I had my first kid 3 days after I turned 21.  My second came along 3 years later, and my third 13 months after that.  All my friends were going to college and working while I was popping out babies and being an at home mom.
Now- 19 years later- I am divorced.  My kids live with their Dad (this was a decision we all made that was best for the kids- don't judge me!).  I am living with Boyfriend and trying to get a career started (being at home for so long isn't conducive to work in the current recession).
My friends are all married with kids pretty much.  Little kids.  Some are in utero.  I picked up some new friends when I went through college and they are about 15 years my junior.

My oldest (she's a month older than I) and most enduring friend

some of the girls from college (Megan is across from me)

Anyhoo- back to the actual topic:  My life is very different from either of these ages of friends.

Tricia, oldest and most enduring friend (we've known each other for 25 years) has a husband, a house, a real job, and 5 kids under the age of 10ish. (how old is Nick anyway?)  She does mom and wife things.  She goes out with the girls for dinner and plays.  She's constantly taxiing a kid somewhere.  She's also an aunt of a gazillion other kids (she comes from a family with 10 kids).  She's very much a family oriented person.  And a job oriented person.   She's focused and devoted.

Megan is 25ish.  She just got married.  She has no kids.  She has two jobs.  She doesn't drink.  She cusses like a sailor.  Oddly, these two:Tricia and Megan remind me of each other.  They are the alpha to my beta personality.  The only reason I'd take over anything is because they tell me to.

Single girls I know go out drinking and dancing.  They wear stillettos.  They might show their boobs at the river.  They own pretty cars and work well paying jobs.  Their bodies are not stretched out from babies.  They look good in a bikini.  They flirt with boys.

Gosh- I am none of these.  I had a major upheaval when trying to figure out who I was after the divorce.  I was no longer mom, wife, caretaker.  I couldn't get a teacher job like I hoped.  I finished school so I wasn't a student.  I was feeling old, fat, like a loser.  I wasn't a fabulous mom like Tricia, or a go-getter newlywed like Megan.  I wasn't a young pretty flirty thing like other single girls.  I wasn't betty crocker, the good wife, or a career woman. 

I had a hard time listening to other people's kid stories- my kids and I had a lot of healing to do yet. 
I had a hard time listening to young and hopeful kids in love. 
I had a hard time hearing about people getting the jobs they wanted.
I had a hard time figuring out where I fit in.

Two years later I am still figuring it out.  My friends are still with me- that's one good trait about them both :)
I have figured out that I am me.  I don't really want to start over with babies, I don't want to taxi kids everywhere (mine drives), I don't want to go back to volunteering in the classroom.  I don't want to go out to bars to party all night every weekend.  I don't want to show my boobs.  I don't want to pick up boys.

I want a job.  A stable one, subbing may or may not be enough, we will see.  I want to be thought of as betty crocker and susie homemaker.  I like that part of me.  I do make a decent at home mom and wife.  I want to make art. I want to be loved.

So, though my friends and I are not exactly alike- I have realized we are similar.  They want a stable career, a stable relationship, to be loved and appreciated.    And those traits and connections we have just add to an already enduring and endearing friendship.  I don't wanna be exactly like my friends- that's why I have them.  Two of me would be boring.

Wednesday, September 8, 2010

H is for delicious foods and angry people

ABC WEDNESDAY! (that also means ghosthunters is on tonight)- and another lesson in Yiddish.  Lets see if I can give Tabitha some new words to use :)

Hefker- a mess
 
Hitsik- hothead
 
Holishkes- stuffed cabbage
 
Hulyen (hellion?)- a hell raiser
 
The hitsik threw a fit and made a hefker by throwing my holishkes all over! oy Vey! What a hulyen.
 
OK- I LOVE THIS ONE- hartsenyu (heartsinyou?) - sweetheart!
This is Jack Jack- a real hartsenyu- I had to bottle feed the little guy.

Tuesday, September 7, 2010

Lunes Lunacy on Tuesday

It was a holiday, people! so I get to post this a day late.  Tomorrow I'll do abc wednesday and thursday I'll hopefully write about the outdoors for spin cycle.

I wasn't going to grump this week- really- but this kept forming in my head, and I assume most of you know someone like this- so I'll get it off my chest. ( I was going to insert a picture here- but I googled pompous princess and nothing struck my fancy).

Dear Pompous Princess,
      You are not as great as you think you are.  You talk about how perfect, and special, and smart you are- but your actions don't meet your words.  Really, your actions label you as a spoiled *itch.  What am I talking about?

* Don't tell people that you are "an educator".  It bugs the crap out of me, as it does other REAL educators.  I went to school and went into freaking debt to EARN that title.  You are an after-school program coordinator.  Your job may not be easy, as you babysit so many kids and help them with their homework- but YOU are not an EDUCATOR or teacher.  Just like I am not a doctor because I know how to lance a boil.  I don't even call myself a teacher- and I have the freaking credential that says I am.  I won't call myself a teacher until I have my own classroom.  You shouldn't until you spend the time and money to get a degree- actually, don't, just don't call yourself one at all.

* Sitting on your butt putting makeup one while we clean or wait patiently for you is annoying to us.  Did you not see me picking up the house, your beer cans, the chips all over the floor?  Did you not see me vacuuming, wiping down tables, doing the dishes, or making lunch?  I'm not your mom- I'm even younger than you (in years, not behavior).  Don't ask me what you can do once I've done it all- you are perfectly aware of what needs to be done around here.

* Interrupting my intelligent conversation with another intelligent person to force some inane comment in and change the topic to you is not cute.  I don't want to talk about you anymore.  Frankly, I've had enough of you.  I don't believe half of what you say anyway- because all your conversations are about is how great people think you are.  How all your faults are things like "giving too much" and "working too hard".  Yeah, right.

* Bothering people, making out with strangers,  and acting like a spoiled brat by sticking your hand in another person's birthday cake is just wrong.  It's unacceptable social behavior.  It doesn't make you cool.  It makes you an ass.  Other drunk people might think you are funny, for a minute.  If they have to deal with your behavior for days on end, their opinion would change quickly.

* I don't want to ask you what your recent boyfriend just texted to you.  I'm reading a book, or trying to nap, or pretending to sleep to avoid you.  Don't gasp and giggle and exclaim something everytime your phone beeps.  I am not going to ask you"what?" because I am not interested.  I don't care.

*Seriously, I am all for fun.  I let loose a little this weekend.  Nothing is better than floating in the river with a full tummy and a cold beer.  I'm here to relax- not to make myself the center of attention and not to be your audience.  Grow up- have fun, but not in a way that annoys the crap out of everyone around you.  Do your own dishes- buy some food instead of eating mine- take care of your own self.  ( I know, I know- you always talk about how you can take care of yourself, but I don't see it- because I took care of you and your crap all weekend- and if it wasn't me, it was one of the other four people in our house).

*BTW- you are forty, not twenty one.  It's time for a reality check, and a priority check.

sincerely, leave me the heck alone, I am on vacation.

Thursday, September 2, 2010

Dear Ladies

Mama Kat offered another list of subjects to do our Writer's Workshop this week.  I opted to write a letter to a celebrity- but it's actually to lots of celebrities- women celebrities- which is particularly good timing since I watched Law and Order last night and really wanted to tell Sharon Stone what I thought of her.  Not her, her hair.

Dear Women celebrities,
I appreciate your ability to stand up and be yourselves.  There are some of you that I adore more than others.  I'm not going to even discuss politics or personality.  I'm even going to avoid talking about forthrightness that I love (ahem, Bette Midler, Mae West).  I'm talking about hair.  Shallow, I know.  But my mom and I have been discussing hair, and my hair feels so heavy on my head, and I am fixated on hair right now.

Right now my hair looks like this above.  Boyfriend thinks that's short hair.  It's OK, I like it because it looks girly and won't get all screwed up under a helmet (I ride a scooter to work)  but I long for the hair I had before:

( I usually get the urge to go dark in the fall)
Why do I tell you women this?  Because I secretly cheer everytime you gorgeous women cut your hair off.

My favorite short haired actress has always been M from James Bond:

Dame Judi Dench
I loved it when Kathy Bates shorn her locks.( shorn?)

I was thrilled when Allysa Milano chopped her hair, and Wynona Ryder


I cried inside when Marrisa Hartigay(sp) decided to grow her hair out:

Quite frankly, I even liked Marilyn Monroe's hair when it was shorter- but this letter can't be to her.

I am so sad that Sharon Stone followed Marrisa- Sharon's iconic short cut looked great on her

I want to cut my hair off, can you tell?  I had it short short for a while- But I had lots of girls picking up on me.  I guess I was just as pretty as Ellen. (I love her)


all I am saying is that sometimes shorter is better


So, Please, look in the mirror and decide for yourself, but just know, I am thrilled to see your pretty face when it's not hidden by hair.

Wednesday, September 1, 2010

ABC WEDNESDAY! whoot- brought to you by G

  • I am so ashamed of my mother.  When she blogged the letter G for ABC wednesday she forgot my the most important G in her life- my brother, he son and oldest child, is named Geoffrey.

(love you, mommy)

anyway- Lemme get to my Yiddish words :)

Gavalt-  It's a cry for help! you need to know that it's usually preceeded by oy- as in Oy gavalt!  The cows have escaped again (can you tell I'm reading prairee books?  Ruth Ann Nordin ahs a series of free e-books that are short and entertaining).  My mom says "oofta" which is norwegian and means about the same thing.



Gelt- (money- moolah)you know who is going to make a lot of Gelt?  this girl:
(Jackie Evancho )- I just had to slip her in here because she is freaking amazing!

OK_ along with yiddish theme, here's a nice blogpost on Jewish teachings- really- It's touching and worth reading.

TTYL!