A day in history

I wasn't sure if I wanted to watch the inauguration in class today. I knew I wanted to see it, but I didn't know if my students would appreciate it. I went for it anyway and these are some of the things that took place:

• When the Clintons were getting seated, one student asked if Bill was Hillary's dad. I waited to listen to what the reaction was. One girl was like, "Uh, hello! That's her husband! That's Bill Clinton!" And one of the kids who said it was like, "Oh," with obvious cluelessness in his voice. So I sat back and thought about it... they were 4-years old when Bush was voted into office the first term. Duh, they don't know who Bill Clinton is!
• They wanted to know how old Obama's daughters were. I got on the computer and found out for them. They couldn't believe that Malia was only 10. They thought she looked their age or older.
  
• There was a lot of clapping going on. Some of it I'm sure was genuine. However, I'm positive that some of them just wanted to hear the sound of their hands smacking together. They were shooshed by other students actually trying to listen and watch.
• They were quite disappointed at how short the actual swearing in was. They found it funny when he couldn't remember the entire line of oath that was fed to him in the beginning.
• One student who I was sitting by is an obvious immigrant. And if he's not an immigrant, I know FOR SURE his parents are. He has learned English in the last few years and is a classic case of an English Language Learner. He's super smart in Math, but struggles in anything else having to do with reading and understanding the English language. Anyway, he was SO excited to watch everything. At one point he turned to me and asked what age Americans get to vote. When I told him 18, I could see him doing the math in his head about how much longer he had. It was so awesome to see that spark.
• When Biden was getting sworn in, a lot of kids wanted to know what his job was. I compared it to our principal and assistant principal, and then someone shouted, "If Obama gets killed, he takes over." Um, yes. Thanks for the clarification.
• They were also fascinated with the name Yo Yo Ma. They couldn't stop talking about the name when that performance was taking place.

There was a girl who was VERY negative about having to watch it. I heard her outside before school talking obvious trash about Obama taking over power. This makes me sad, not because I truly believe Obama means change, but because her parents are obviously feeding her this information. I mean, I get it if people voted for McCain and are upset. However, the decision has been made and they need to teach their child to accept it. The negativity makes me sick. For the last 3 elections, I voted Democrat. I lost in the 2 prior to this one. But you didn't hear me speaking negatively about who was chosen to rule. I accepted it and hoped for the best. It's sad that adults think it's ok to be so negative around their children.

I was glad I got to watch it with my students. Most were into it. Some realized the enormity of today. But most of all, I want them to be able to look back and remember that they got to watch when history was being made. I hope that many of them will be able to look back and say, "I remember when I saw the first African American President was sworn into office."

I know I'll remember it for as long as I live.

Countdown to:

NYC = 22 days

Paris & London = 66 days

Did I mention I was going to Paris and London in March? Oh, well guess what? I'm going to Paris and London in March. And we're staying in Kensington in London. "Hellooo Mrs. Kensington." (I'm obsessed with that quote.)

Ah, to be young and single....

The pictures still make me itchy

This is what I should have walked into.

But this is what I actually walked into.

This is what my desk and shelf o' resources should have looked like.

But this is somehow how it ended up after the carpet was installed. Notice one of the crew members left his dirty ass thermos. Asshole. Into the trash it went.

Why I didn't have a meltdown, I have no idea.
They did manage to put the desks back in the correct place, weirdly enough. But forgot about putting the chairs back with the desks. Ugh.

And my computers? Yeah, Those green plastic bins are totally wrong. And whose poor pencil boxes were left on the table???

After 2 hours of cleaning and organizing, I got it all back to normal. Whew.

Oh wait, they moved my radio close enough to an outlet so that they could plug it in and listen to whatever it is they were listening to while not giving a shit about my stuff.

I'm glad it's over and my room is back in its organized order. If you know me, you know how shitty this was for me. I hate the carpet crew and I would kick each and every one of them in the balls if I had the chance.

There, I feel better.

My welcome back to work

So today was my first day back to work. Our school got new carpet over Winter Break, which is awesome because this is my 7th year there and the carpet was kinda disgusting. Anyway, the memo to us about how to prepare our classrooms went something like this: "Remove all valuables and breakables." That's it. No "Can you please make sure to label the student desks" or "Please pack up and make it as easy as possible for the crew to move the furniture." Nothing. I kinda thought it was too good to be true, but I went with it because I was getting my room done on the day that we got out for Winter Break, and at 11:30, I just wanted to get the hell outta there.

So at 11:35 that day, the carpet guy says to me, "Are you going to be leaving soon?" And I say, "Yeah, what is it that you need me to do in here?" And he says, "Nothing. You're fine. We'll take care of it."

Two weeks later I come into my classroom and it literally looks like they turned it upside-down, installed the carpet, shook it up, and then turned it right-side up. Literally.

Now I want to find the motherfuckers that carpeted my room and kick them in the balls. Thank goodness I teach 12-year olds and they were more than happy to come in this morning and watch "Finding Nemo" while I ran around sweating, in my nice work clothes, cleaning up my classroom so I could teach. Imagine that.

I took pictures but when they were downloaded onto the school secretary's computer, she erased them from my memory card. I'm going to have her email them to me so you can see the extent of my morning.

Welcome back.

Does this shit happen to anyone else???

i go to Fullerton college and i was wondering if you would be interested in modeling your feet for my upcoming website. All that i ask is that you acompany me to the library and we would film for about 10 minutes at any time that would be easy for you. I know this sounds weird in a way but i hope that it sparks some interest. If you are interested just give me a message and i will set everything up.Thank you for your time. hope to hear from you soon.

This is the email I got on Facebook at around 12:30am (I didn't change anything, I just took out the guy's name.)

Does this dude just randomly pick chicks on Facebook? I'm kinda weirded out and intrigued all at the same time. And does he not know about my feet? I'm tempted to email back and play around a little but I'm afraid I might find him in my closet smelling my shoes when I got home from work one day.

Dear Next-Door Neighbors,

Yeah, hi. It's me. The girl whose front door is merely 3 feet away from your front door. The girl who shares the same teeny tiny hallway as you. The girl who need not hear your loud family partying and then arguing in Spanish on a Thursday night. At 10:30 on a Thursday night. Yeah, I get it, you like to throw a few back from time-to-time. But see, this is the thing... when throwing a few back with other family members causes your grown daughter to step out on the balcony and shout at her boyfriend/husband about how he needs to (and I quote), "Mind his fucking business," and how just because the boyfriend/husband "didn't have a fucking father" doesn't mean that she can't enjoy a night of drinking with her dad. She "likes hanging out with her dad." If it then causes you and your daughter's boyfriend/husband to get in a shouting match, whereupon your daughter is trying to calm you down because you are so drunk, and then she leaves, shouting Spanish profanities (2 feet from my front door) at 11:00pm, you should probably tone down the tequila shots.

Don't get me wrong, I myself am a lover of the fine drink called tequila. I thank the Mexicans everyday for the love-of-my-life named Patron. But I can handle my alcohol. Maybe it's my half-Mexicanness that allows me to not open my front door 10 minutes after my daughter and her husband/boyfriend leave, shouting something in Spanish about the devil ("blah blah blah el diablo!" is what I remember). Maybe it's because I'm 30 and not 57. Maybe it's because I don't have my family of 3 (possibly 4) living in a one-bedroom apartment. It could be any number of things.

The fact of the matter is that, yes, that was me who called after-hours security on your loud, drunk ass. I wasn't scared. My door was locked. But, see, I don't mind the ocassional family gatherings, even perhaps the drinking. What I do mind is the loudness. And the drama. And the all-out trashiness that you displayed last night.

Get it together Next-Door Neighbors. Get it together.