Crying Crazy in Kansas

Let’s bring you all up to date, shall we? This last weekend was great. Friday we buried Grandma Rice in her plot right next to Grandpa Rice and his parents. Not to sound old, but the weather was lovely and sunny. We waited for everyone to show up at the cemetery’s lounge area and at first it wasn’t so bad with a few family members, but then a few friends (non-family) showed. For some reason, that’s when I realized we were there to bury my grandma and the tears started to roll down my cheeks. I spoke at the burial and so did most of the people there. The Price family rolled up to the plot in their 100 passenger van, we were there, Aunt Sue, and a few close family friends.
Saturday Chris and I went to Carmel Valley early to eat at the Baja Cantina, a restaurant we were regulars at with Grandma. After having a few hours to get ready in our room at the Carmel Valley Lodge (Very nice…) we headed over to Grandma’s church for her memorial. Each of Grandma’s five children spoke of her fondly. Aunt Louise had a lovely quote, something about how you might have treasure and gold, but my mother read to me. That was totally Grandma – she would even volunteer to read to school children when she could still drive and spoke well. Shortly afterwards we (well, at least I) drank our sorrows away and ate very well at Jefferies (a fabulous breakfast place in Carmel Valley). It was a great time to catch up friends and family.
At the Carmel Valley Lodge we were neighbors to Aunt Sue and got to have a good talk or talks while we stayed there. Sunday morning we stopped by the beach before heading home. We wanted some time to unwind before driving to Mom’s for dinner with the Price family. When we finally returned home that evening I made a to-do list for my day off (Veteran’s Day) and got to sleep feeling satisfied with my emotions about losing Grandma and feeling good about the time spent with family.
Monday morning I was on my way to the gym when my family called me to tell me about bad state Grandma Bates was in. The rest of the day I wondered if I should go out to Kansas to be with her in her last moments. Calling the home she was in didn’t help because they just said something like, “God only knows when He’ll take her home.” Maybe she thought I was being too practical as a Christian, but then I should have explained I was coming from California and wanted their best death estimate. I was mostly trying not to cry on the phone. After googling bereavement flights, I found a good flight going out Tuesday morning. Just before going to bed I talked to my dad who said Grandma was non-responsive and would not even know I was there, but I believed that she would sense someone in the room (It is said that hearing is one of the last senses to go). She still deserved to be surrounded by loved ones. Aunt Barb, my dad’s only sister, told me that the nurse said Grandma’s knees were molding, a sign that her body was shutting down. A friend of mine, Nikki, talked to be a bit online before I finally shut off my computer Monday night and said I should follow my heart to be with her in Kansas.
Tuesday morning I was getting ready for student teaching when Aunt Barb called telling me Grandma had died. I forgot about going to teach and started making plans to fly out to be with Grandpa. So I am here and didn’t hit any major bumps along the way. While I was waiting for a shuttle for the hotel Tuesday night, a van pulled up with a familiar-looking gentleman. I’m sure I had a huge smile on my face as I told the guy next to me, “There’s my dad!” and I excitedly ran-walked towards the van saying, “Hey, Dad!” When he got out I realized it was just a man that looked a lot like my dad and that he was driving a taxi. I haven’t seen my own Dad in a few years, which explains the mix up. The guy next to me, who looked like Tom Cruise and also hitching a ride to the hotel, thought it was the funniest thing he’s seen in a while. So funny, that he told the shuttle driver and hotel clerk about it. Were I kept saying, “That was a little silly.” And shrugging the mistake off.

Hoops and, now, a Sinkhole

Shoulda, woulda, coulda... I feel quite frustrated and sad at the moment because my sweet Grandma Rice has passed. She was everything a grandchild could have asked for in a grandparent. My Grandpa Rice died after a second massive stroke when I was 16 and that was sad, but I have always been closer to my grandmothers than my grandfathers. So losing Grandma Rice (or Boots was her preferred name) has torn my heart open. I feel numb and usually have tears at the corners of my eyes. So, even with buckets of grad school coursework sitting on my shoulders, I don't have the energy to think critically or think about perfect pedegogy. In fact, screw school at least for this time while I collect my thoughts, which have gone back and forth between seeing my dead grandmother and my immense collection of happy Grandma memories.

Let's deal with the bitter end. I was called when Grandma was literally in her last moment. She had been in assisted living for 18 months, which were not very happy times for her and I visited her pretty often. Mom called while I sat in the dentist's parking lot and I agreed to meet her at Grandma's. Through wet tears I drove to pick up Chris a ways away in San Mateo before meeting Mom at the Forum. We got there and I didn't think of what we might encounter; Grandma dying. We stepped in as the Chaplin called the time of death and there was Grandma laying in her bed by the window that faced out to the green hills and a bird feeder. Mom was crouching over her, putting a cell phone up to her ear as my aunt on the other end said her good-byes. I cried and cried and cried. I rubbed Mom's back and then stepped up to touch Grandma's face and hair. Words couldn't come out of my mouth, but I told her I loved her and that I would miss her and good-bye. The Chaplin said Grandma's Spirit was in transition as long as her heart was warm. I don't know if I believed that, but I did know that Grandma was dead in front of me. This was the end of a long and joyful book. Grandma was a sweet, sensitive, loving, tolerant, and fun-loving main-character.

After about twenty minutes Mom came back into the room from having been on her cellphone getting the word out to siblings and said, "Doesn't she look peaceful?" I replied under my breath as respectfully as I could, "Mom, she looks dead." I did not stay when the mortuary came to pick her up, but Mike, my brother did.

On the other hand life is ripping right along even with me in slow motion. There is always a text book to read, a lesson plan to prepare or an essay to write, but for now I don't want to do those things. I want to grieve. Stop the life/gradschool/real-world train because I need to get off. I don't know what I do want to do, but I don't want to preform at a grad school level right now. I'm not feeling competitive at the moment. I don't want to run this race. I need a break.

I will also leave you with some happy parts: Our search for Halloween Pumpkins, Chris's successful tomato harvest, and that I have jumped the enormous hoops and applied for

graduation. That was before now and I'm glad. I also had fun with my friend Becca while we prepared a whole bunch of food for Monday's snack.

But right now it's hard to get excited over much. 99.9% of my extended family are now planning to make the trip to the Bay Area for the burial and memorial. Well, I guess it is sad and happy at the same time. I feel like I'm in one of life's sinkholes. Stuck for the moment.

One free hotdog!

September 10th was a home game between the San Francisco 49ers and Chris's favorite team, the Cardinals. Monday night football gets him starry-eyed and we bought tickets from a mild-mannered season ticket holder through the wonders of Craigslist. On Mondays I have graduate classes all day from nine in the morning to seven at night and one thought that kept me going was getting a hotdog at the football game. Chris picked me up after classes and we worked our way through San Francisco's messed-up highway system to get to the high-class Bayshore area where Monster Park has landed. He missed the first quarter and parked about a half mile out in a dusty field they try to call a parking lot.
At the game we had pretty close seats and I pulled out The Second Shift (Hochschild, 2003). Watching the game in our section was like being at Catholic Mass; up and down, up and down. I find this team spirit activity futile because when I stand I'm still too short to see. So I volunteer to buy our dinner and let Chris enjoy the game.
A lot of people had the same idea and I stood behind a line with about ten people in it already. I talked to some Arizona natives and ended up waiting about 20 minutes just to order. I recieved the garlic fries awfully fast, but was told the dogs were coming in ten to fifteen. Minutes?
I stood there with a large, grey van-dick wearing father with his twelve-year-old son while we heard the half-time fireworks go off. They were dedicating the field to Bill Walsh that night. Of course, I started joking with the father about the wait and then he said he didn't want a hotdog anymore. So, being the diplomate I try to be sometimes, I said, "Well, I'm sure if you ask for your money back, they will understand. You have been waiting a while."
He took my advice and asked the young hotdog stand lady for his money back. That young lady went in the back, probably to see if there were any hotdogs; one last-ditch effort to please the customer. While she was in the back her 50-something woman supervisor stepped up to the window and said to the father, "Don't you ever talk to my girls like that!" And as I stood there I felt I had sort of caused the power-play and my beanie got itchier on my hot forehead as these two adults verbally had it out. He got his money and took his son back to the stands.
After so much tension I put a cheesy smile on my big face and said I still wanted a hotdog, please. The boss-lady with a tight smile turns to another worker carrying a box of hotdogs, grabbed two and put them in front of me. I thanked her, took the dogs and fries and quickly got back to Chris.
When I get back to Chris after what seemed to be an hour, I whispered that I got a free hotdog. It wasn't until a ride home from the gym a few days later, where he heard exactly how that "free" hotdog came to be. Maybe I felt a little guity about the hotdog or the sad display of disrespect at the hotdog stand.
The Cardinals lost and it was an great last quarter because the Niners came back with five minutes on the clock. I just love the sportsmanship at these sporting events. Go humanity!

Working It Out

So, I have been on a mission, Nano in hand or in the waist of my tight pants, to try to make exercise a more regular part of my life. Obviously, my diet needed to change a little bit which in a nutshell, I needed to be physically, tummy-rumbling hungry, before consuming each meal. Also, since I was not working or attending school this summer I made sure we cooked for ourselves most evenings. That helped with our portion control and with what exactly was going into our bodies.
This summer I found a great class Mondays, Tuesdays, Thursdays and Fridays that suited my style perfectly. Eric was the instructor and had a fun, flamboyant personality. Even after showing us the basic move he would do, what I would called a “Stewart” moment, and spasm into a crazy bit of personal choreography. Having a background as a drill sergeant or exercise leader in the Marines, but also working for a ballet company really influenced his teaching methods. Mondays and Fridays was a modern dance, tai chi, free-style, free-spirit class that I loved. Tuesdays and Thursdays was a functional weightlifting class; instead of your regular bicep curls and lunges, we would use weighted bars to “row a boat” or “chop wood.” Getting fit for those house chores!
But now I have other priorities and I go to the gym when I can, having to be more self-motivatedeeeeeeewwwwwwwwwwwwwww (sorry, that was Smally stepping on the keyboard). A true Gym Rat trying to ignore all the other gym-members with my ear-buds in my ears. Supposedly, there is construction happening to the Gold’s Gym a few towns over and that is why our gym is so crowded. I do know that it drives Chris craaaaazzzzzy. As long as I can get on my favorite cardio machines, I’m cool, but if I have my personal space invaded by another person, besides my husband, Chris, that drive me craaaaaazzzy. "What?!? I'm working out here!"
Case in point, in Eric’s aerobics classes tightly-dressed Baby Boomers get in my way regularly. I think to myself, “Don’t they know, when I do a turn in the air, they might be back-handed?”
There is another issue I have has to do with my beloved Nano: I will be just beginning to run and both ear-buds will do a suicide leap from my ears. No amount of extra padding or pleading keeps them in. I don't think it is proper form to run with my fingers in my ears, so I have given up the fight. My “Running Mix” playlist is wasted on my speed walking and other cardio activities. Anyone else have that problem with their ear-buds? Ear-duds more like it!
Today I was going around and working my lower body (that’s the polite way of saying, my ghetto bootie and thunder thighs). I was on what I call the Lower Back Apparatus, which I use to continually squeeze my butt-cheeks together, and noticed my keys were elsewhere. As I apologetically moved them away from the exercise area of another member, she chose to be friendly and said something to me.
First of all, I had my music on and at a level where I do not want to hear anything else but that music. Second, I had been working out for a while and was enjoying being "in the zone" or a Spacecase. So I removed a sweaty ear-bud and politely said, “Excuse me?” But even when she repeated herself, her words, “Those keys look like you have a nice car,” were not comprehended in my brain-fog. So I just smiled and nodded. Since I’m a manners-freak, I should have said, “Thank you.” I’m officially a rude worker-outer!  But, I believe the hard work is paying off as I have lost a third of the weight I want to lose.
The next class I want to try is their Belly Dancing one. I have got enough hips for it and enough belly! Cannot wait to strap some of those bells on.

Life's Ridiculous Again

Hello one and all,
I hope you are enjoying life lately. I'm back into school, whole-hog, as they say. Taking credentialing courses and student teaching at a very cute elementary school in San Bruno. One more year of excessive writing and reading and then hopefully I will be finished with school for a long time. Fridays I have made sure to keep clear for job possibilities, such as substitute teaching. At 7:20am this morning, sure enough, I was called about some job offers. I took one starting at 8am and ran through the house to shower, make coffee, communicate with Chris, who was a God-send when it came to getting directions and making me a fast sandwich. En route to my first assignment as a Jr High PE teacher, I was called and re-routed to an elementary school. Once I got there I saw the sign said, "International." Oh, boy, this was a real adventure. I was told it was a forth grade class and it ended up being a 2nd grade class - much more my style. Needless to say, I got a lot of Espanol practice in today with the kids. Damn, they were good. I read them a story, something called, Froggy's First Beso, and it was written in Spanish. I sounded like a beginning reader and the kids loved it because they got to show me their mastery and correct my mistakes. That was super fun.
Right now I'm crying over the death of a misunderstood giant gorilla (who's not even real!) in King Kong. I got the movie in the library and I'm glad I did because it's oddly good. Some of the CG is a bit shoddy, but whatever. Then there's me crying over the mythical creature - I always cry over abused animals, but still like to watch shows like Animal Cops on Animal Planet when I can. Even if I'm running, full-tilt on the treadmill at the gym, I will cry over whatever sappiness is on cable. Don't ever try welling up in front of me, especially if your male, because I will quickly join you with my own tears. Why am I saying this? I guess crying comes more often when I'm stressed out. So watch out world! I just might cry in public and make people feel awkward.
Like the apple with the cozy? I thank Cute Overload for a daily dose of simple cuteness. It also highlights the wonders of knitting. My knitting has been focused on a quilt-like project where I have been stitching together different colored squares. These seed-stitched squares will be sewn together to form a bed spread, but since the yarn was a bit pricey it will be more of a small blanket.
Funny how house chores, such as doing the ever-dirty dishes, or crafting is alluring when there's graduate work to be done. :)You'd be surprised how fun watering flowers can be in lu of writing a 10-pager. The laundry has to be done right away and friends need to be sent random emails now. If it's a particularly anxious time, I might cry whilst doing the cooking. :) And then you would really know I have a lot of school work sitting on my figurative shoulders.

Smally Goes to Tahoe

Another "Keeper"

Before I get back to my house chores, I thought I would tell you how much My Sister’s Keeper, by Jodi Picoult, surprised me. At first I was skeptical because I thought it started out a little cheesy, but it got me in the end! I heard about it when my professor, Dr. Rossi, said he could not put it down. Now, I see why he might have enjoyed the piece of fiction because it is about a 13 year old taking her parents to court to gain medical emancipation. You see, this young lady was genetically engineered to be a perfect donor for her sister who suffers from a rare form of leukemia. That’s all I am going to say because the plot is great and so is the topic. As you read it, it only gets better. So hit that library or borrow it from a friend, as I did (Thanks, Katie!).

Hell = Taking the RICA

Just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse then the CSET (check out my post about that experience under May 2006) I had the lovely privilege of registering for, paying the $130 and taking the RICA. RICA stands for Reading Instruction Competence Assessment and it is mandatory for teachers in California.
I believe teaching is more of an art then a science. But the government does not share my views. No wonder there is a shortage of driven and qualified teachers with all this red tape and expensive tests to take for a less then ideal working situation. Tests do not teach – this is one of the lessons I have learned in my teaching course work at SFSU. It is bad pedagogy to only test. A test is a tool for the teacher to see if they have been teaching effectively. I would be willing to take something as annoyingly focused as the RICA if those who want us to know all that information would go over our scores with us afterwards. If I’m found incompetent in my knowledge of reading, writing and spelling, I want to know why.
I do believe if I went to Hell that it would be an eternity of taking the RICA. First of all, it was in a building that was the picture of dilapidation, with the feeling of a depressing institution. Cloud Hall had dreary, unending halls and the bathroom’s stalls had splintered wooden doors that looked like they were made by primates. After we were in our assigned classrooms by our given numbers (we might as well have been robots or a cattle) we got to take our tests on these desk-chair things, where the slab of wood meant for us to write on, was no more then a foot-square. I ended up having to sit at an angle during the test to try to utilize my lack of space.
Then there was the test* itself. The first section had 70 multiple choice (or so they say) questions. 70 questions on the same topic (yaaaawwwnnnn). At least the CSET changed subjects every forty questions or so. An example* of a question is as follows:

If you are a kindergarten teacher and you have five English Learners, how would you teach them reading?
a. You teach them the alphabet.
b. You read to them.
c. You are nice to them.
d. You let them practice writing the alphabet.

Hmmmm…. Let me think…. What? Those were my thoughts during most of the test. The written section did not bestow any more confidence in my teaching abilities either. Oh, and did I mention that for our room full of female test-takers there was only one bathroom pass? Who did that math?
At least I was no alone in this cruel world of over-assessment. My friends Amy, Kelsey, Blair were all there in the same deteriorating classroom. We also studied together. Blair and I shared a more angry outlook on the whole situation (F-it all!), where the rest studied their fears of failure away. Lord willing, we will all pass and, in time, it will be just a bad dream. Tests do not teach!

*DISCLAIMER: I’m not giving away real content OR answers to the RICA, so don’t sue me!

Life Is Too Short

A truly fantastic human being, experienced teacher, mother, wife and best friend was lost when, Scott’s mom, Pattie succumbed to the complications of her cancer, this last Sunday. My friend, who was also my Matron of Honor, Lara, called last night around 9:30pm and I knew something was not right. A few weeks ago I emailed her telling her that I would be happy to meet her if her little family ever came up to visit Scott’s family in Northern California. At this time she requested that they could focus on quality time with Pattie and immediate family and I understood.
Cancer is a term that involves so many vile afflictions that can strike almost any part of the body. Grandma and Grandpa’s skin cancer, caused by sun-worshipping, resulted in Grandpa’s ears looking like they had been bar-b-qued. But they both luckily had no other complications. Laddie, our Scottish terrier, died when his bone cancer left him in so much pain that he could not leave his little dog bed. Right around the time I was forced into womanhood, my mother was going through a hysterectomy because she had an orange-sized cyst on her ovary. That procedure was followed by hormone therapy and the sudden emotional roller-coaster of menopause that we had to cope with as a family.
When I heard that Pattie was diagnosed a year or two ago, I prayed for a miracle and hoped that it would be a successful battle. I prayed that she would pull through because she had such a rich life. She recently remarried herself before watching two of her boys get hitched. The last couple of years also saw the birth of a few healthy grandchildren. At the wedding slash baby shower held at Pattie’s warm home, the house was packed with friends and family. I got the pleasure to sit next to Grandma Pattie (that is the picture I included above). That was a year ago and I believe she was quickly diagnosed with cancer after that.
When Lara called last night we talked and kept it business-like, no crying. I found out about the funeral and expressed how sorry I am. I could tell she had been crying because she sniffed a lot. Last night I had a hard time sleeping and that is very unusual for me because that is one thing I do well. I had a mental image consisting of rows after rows of people walking together on this expansive highway. Every so often someone collapses or the ground gives way and swallows a few more people. Every one keeps walking, but seem shocked by their fellow walkers disappearances.
Death is sometimes sudden and life is short. When I was tossing and turning in bed I thought about how I would need tissue at the funeral and in a dream I found an individual pack in a random purse. I was bummed when I woke up to find that that, in fact, I have no Kleenex. I guess this is one of those bridges that you have to cross when you come to it. I pray that God is taking care of Pattie now in Heaven. Maybe she was such a treasure here on earth that He wanted to have her close to Him. But we will miss her here.

Simpsonizederised

Yo! We both got Simpsonederizeded - rock, rock on!

Cheers to Three Years

Yes, Chris and I have been married a wonderful and interesting three years. We have been through four moves, many job changes and I'm still in the process of changing my career via grad-school. I noted in Chris' card that the difference between the last two year's anniversaries and this years, was that I am growing more comfortable. Chris is still the person I would most likely want to hang out with. We are currently trying to get rid of our Newlywed Nine (mine is more like fifteen!) Fortunately we have each other to help promote (and cheat on) good habits. :)

So, for this year, since Chris was starting a new job a short commute away, I wanted to have a celebration at home. I hand-picked apples, savory sausage, fresh-baked french bread and fondue cheese. We also invested in some Mumm's Napa champagne, which we had at our wedding, and that was perfect. The reason we had fondue was because we dated in Switzerland where they are fondue perfectionists. Our wedding DVD, that Uncle Spence recorded (good job Uncle Spence!) played while we dined at our coffee-table. Cheers!

Cousin Bri-guy and Keri's Wedding

July 20th, 2007 was the day Brian and Keri joined their lives in marriage! I love weddings and love seeing family more. Chris and I drove the two hours to be with our extended family at the Sacramento Mormon Temple. The Price Family, minus Emily and Brian, drove to Santa Clara to stay with Mom the previous Wednesday evening. Chris and I got to spend time with them for dinner. On the Friday we met at the Temple for photos, but then drove into Old Town Folsom for a Mexican Food Luncheon. I helped Mike and Uncle Greg with a rap in honor of the recently married. Mike even custom-made beat for it!
Chris and I had planned to stay in Chico for the rest of the weekend and were invited to a BBQ at Aunt Lo's house. More great family time and slidding down their slide into the cool pool!
Our dear friends, the Reid's, let us sleep in their side of the duplex that we once lived in, while they were away. It was great to stay in a place we were so familiar with. Luckily, Chico was not as hot as it could have been. We visited eatries we loved like Sin of Cortez for breakfast and Christian Michael's for dinner/happy hour. Besides stuffing our fat faces, we also walked around the quaint downtown and had an after-dinner walk we used to have every night. We were a little sweaty after that walk and decided to go for a night swim at the Cootsona's. Before going back to the house we had to walk to Shubert's for some ice cream. You must think we are 300 pounds each, but we just love some of Chico's finest restaurants and had been planning this trip for a while. :)
Sunday we went to Bidwell Presbyterian Church where Uncle Greg was teaching that morning. Aunt Lo wanted to go get some Peet's after the service so we had an hour chat and sat outside the shop, sipping half-caf coffee in real mugs. It was great to have some one-on-one with someone who's older and wiser. On our drive home we took the 99 South to Yuba City (Taste of India is our all-time favorite Indian food place!) and then to Sac-Town for shopping.
We had an excellent weekend. Chris and I were surprised how relaxed we were because while we had lived there we were not always so stress-free. Looking back to that time of our lives we had a hard time finding consistant work for both of us and that was really hard. But Chico does have a draw and we thought almost just as relaxing as Tahoe. Gasp!

The best preparation for the RICA

So, I am in summer school, woop te do. I'm just as excited about it as you are reading about it. I sometimes feel like I'm held hostage by my hormones (the very ones controlling my fluctuating moods, appetite, and energy levels) and my future career educational needs. Neither one I can get away from. You cannot opt out of a 15 page research proposal when the horribly boring thing makes up 90% of your grade and you need that grade to get a Masters degree. That Masters degree will hopefully give you a bit more job security. So my life is so fun with all these exciting motivators.
So tonight I let myself have some ice cream. That is a big deal because I usually try to save dessert as a treat on weekends. Weekdays mean vegetables, fruits and sensibility. This is easy when you don't have much of an appetite, but guess what? IT CAME BACK! Funny how that happens. One bowl of chili does not satisfy anymore. This isn't anything new. In fact these appetite levels have a lot to do with my womanly cycles. I don't really want to get into it.
What I really wanted to write about is the book I accidentally got in the mail. I kindly asked Amazon for a used book on preparing for the RICA. Yes another test to see if I have enough brains to teach small children to read. A undergraduate degree, two teaching credentials and a masters degree won't reflect that I can do that, only some expensive test. It's $240. Again, I cannot opt out of that one, neither.
So back to the book. Instead of receiving 'Ready For RICA', I got a brand new copy of 'Energy Addict, 101 Physical, Mental, & Spiritual Ways to Energize Your Life.' Is God trying to tell me something? The packing slip says I got the RICA book so it is their mistake and I plan to return it, but the funny thing is I feel that 'Energy Addict' will help me with my over-all state of being much better then prepping for the stupid RICA. Don't you? On the back it boasts with bullets saying, "Take an Energy Audit to determine where your energy comes from -- and where you're losing it." Sounds good to me! I would like to have more options then sleeping. "Start every morning with a 10-minute 'thank-you' walk." Makes sense, but I'm a little afraid of my neighborhood and the pollution from the freeway next to my house. "Eat breakfast like a king...and dinner like a pauper." When I read this my husband asked what a pauper was, but then he thought I said Papa. Those were the only points that made sense. If I didn't have other fantastically boring text books to peruse then I would read the little self-help book and then return it to its rightful owner.
My advice? Hug someone today, especially if they are a teacher or student. Or at least pray for them. Hugs and kisses to all of your lucky work and play people!

French women don't what?

Yes, you have read it correctly, the book is entitled, French Women Don't Get Fat and written with wit and wisdom by Mireille Guiliano. I mean, the woman is going into her eighth decade of life, so she has the right to make such outrageous claims. Myself, having lived and visited in Europe a few times, have noticed how I trimmed down at least when traveling in France and Switzerland - so I was intrigued. When friends saw the title they mentioned that of course French women are svelte, they do nothing but smoke and drink coffee. On the contrary, in Guiliano's book she encourages water, not coffee, and wine during dinner. But, this French philosophy of eating, wants the readers to be conscience in every activity, whether it be eating or taking a walk.
If anything, this book is a refreshing read and NOT a do-this and you'll loose weight fast kind of book. It is a memior, cookbook and how-to book all in one read. Skim the chapter on vegetables (she really enjoys her fruits as well) because the whole book is worth a read. She pushes moderation rather then opting for the protein-dominate approach. Also, there were recipes, which I wanted to write about. I tried the baguette recipe, which I will not include here as not to get sued. It was so fun even if I scared Chris out of the kitchen (I was a bit too authoritative for his liking). When Grandma Bates used to visit or when I flew out to Kansas to see her we would bake and bake and bake. So, greasing my hands, removing my rings, and preparing my large cutting board with flour seemed natural. I have to confess, I wished I had my Grandma to help me when the doe was getting too sticky and a little annoying. After all the raising and needing and wrestling with the doe, four flat loaves were achieved. :) Mike was over for dinner (oh yeah, it was the same day we went to see Bjork!) that evening and we all had fresh baked bread with our beans and wieners. All in all, it's a book advising living simply and I am all for that!

Create Your Own Currency!

Crash Boom Bang! Yes, we went to see the infamous Bjork last night. What a great show! She is so unique and the audience was positive.
The last live concert I went to was the AquaBats with Mr. Mike Bates. I thought the crowd there would be friendly, but someone proved me wrong with flipping off the band and there were children present! Outrageous. No decency whatsoever!
Anyways back to Bjork - every time she would thank the audience with a cute, little Icelandic voice we would giggle. She sounded exactly the way we thought she would. She even said, "Mucha Gracias" even if she said it wrong it was still very adorable. We were trying to figure out if she actually addressed the crowd with "Hello Bay Areas!" Bay Areas??? Who cares, it's BJORK! The audience ranged in style; geek chic to hippy to raver style. Muy interestante!
Well, it was good to have something to look forward to and since I had to cancel my birthday party, it was sort of a delayed birthday gift. Chris and I had a good time holding hands and trying to stay warm together. Mike and his friend came along, which is always entertaining. Outings with Mike always turn into compulsive giggling, strange voices and physical comedy while whoever is not Mike or I try to act like they are not there. Chris knows to leave us alone when we start the hilarity because it is quite odd. For example, Mike would do the little Bjork voice, saying, "Don't let them do that to you!!!" and I would start with the penguin-like dance move Bjork performed for us on stage. I guess you would have to be there to appreciate it. If you have the chance to see Bjork live, do it! She is fab-u-lous!
Bye!!!

End of the Term Crazy

Hello People who read this blog! People like two friends, my dad and my brother! Thanks for the support!
So, as the title reads it is "end of the term crazy" time. Yes, I feel like I don't have enough time to feel sorry for myself because there is too much to do with 21 units. 21 units = Dropped-on-your-head-crazy! Yeah, who signed me up for that many hours? Oh, wait, twas I. I'm trying to fit in my masters classes while carrying a full-time schedule for my credential program. I'm not the only one sucked into this weird panicked, feeling like we have to get a masters or die feeling. There are way to many over-educated people in America.
In the meanwhile, real-life has reared its ugly head. My grandma had another large stroke making her progress in her right side disappear. She now is more affected in her physical abilities and her mental capabilities. I got the family duty of wandering the halls after it initially happened - sucked, but she's my grandma. We walked, stopped to cry here and there and then finally she fell asleep. A week after that I visited again and she looks so much better. Praise the Lord. Getting old must be rough.

You must be taking 21 units if:
1. The dark circles under your eyes get so bad that the bartender stops asking for ID.
2. You can symphathize with people who take crack cocaine.
3. You find yourself neglecting plucking your facial hair.
4. You're tired of hearing yourself complain about how much homework you have to do.
5. Every time you do a Number 1 it smells like coffee.
6. You hope your spouse or friend picks you up late for a date so you can do more homework.
7. You have To Do lists on the backs of both of your hands.
8. You really wish their was more hours in the day or you could suspend time like Evie in "Out of This World."
9. You gain 21 pounds. Just Kidding - I've only gained 5.


Right now, I'm allowing myself a little blogging and Small is getting in the way of my typping. Sometimes she'll walk on the keybord or now her head i s resting ont he board. Gotta go - bye! xoox

Bat Country

Thank you Hunter S. Thompson.

Fun little surveys - I'm an adventurer!

Hey Kids,
Here I am, online and wasting time. I got caught up in www.blogthings.com with their mindless surveys. I have already added "What Kind of Californian are You?" (San Diego) and "What Kind of Pinup are You?" (Betty Grable) to my Myspace profile, but I felt like this one described both Chris and I.

Your Travel Personality Is: The Adventurer

For you, travel is how you learn about the world. And you like to learn the stuff that's not in guidebooks.You truly have wanderlust. When you're not traveling, you're dreaming about where you'll go next.And your travels are truly legendary - they leave you with stories you'll be telling for the rest of your life!

What's" Your Travel Personality?

sucked into myspace, kids

Here's my latest blog on myspace (don't tell anyone!!!). If you'd like to be my "friend" (*cringe*) look me up! Check it out (just go to www.myspace.com and 'search' for my name):

Educate Yourself

Current mood: contemplative
Category: News and Politics

Hello! I was recommended the following website to view by one of my professors at SFSU:

http://www.mediathatmattersfest.org/6/index#

The shorts are all about 6 minutes long and full of knowledge. If you want to know what is going on that may not be in the 10 o'clock news, go and see what these filmmakers have to say. :) I viewed all of them and 90% rock.

As the bumper sticker says, "If you're not outraged you're not paying attention."

Peace!

Currently reading : Jubilee By Margaret Walker Release date: By 21 January, 1999

Jesus Land - Could not put it down!

Hello People! I am taking 21 units this crazy semester, but I still love to read for pleasure. I picked up Jesus Land by Julia Scheeres because, 1. The cover was a cute, retro photo of a blond, blue eyed girl, next to a smiling little black boy, 2. The title. When I read the back I found out it was a memior about these kids (the little boy was adopted by the little girl's parents) in the Mid-west. I'm always interested in people's stories and this sounded like it would be a very telling one. Boy, was it EVER!!! It's a hefty 300 pages or so and I busted that b- out in a week and we are in midterms! Click on 'Julia' and it will take you to her personal webpage. Please pick up a copy at your bookstore or, better yet, borrow it from your local library!

Teach Teacher Teach

Kids are fun, kids are silly, and sometimes inappropriate. The kids I work with as a Student Teacher are in a Special Day Class (SDC). This is the Mild to Moderate group. You know, Mild to Moderate Disability ranging from Learning Disabilities (LD), to Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorders (ADHD) and emerging Emotionally Disturbed (ED). Are you starting to catch on to the prominent use of abbreviations?
So, let me rephrase that: I'm a ST working in a SDC with a Mild to moderate group of students diagnosed with LD's and/or ADHD, and some with the beginning stages of ED.
So Johnny (pseudonym) is really quiet and you often have to get on his level and constantly check to see that he hasn't gone into his own world. But this isn't an easy feat when Sam, Mike and Joe have ADHD and are up and down out of their seats and continually talking out of turn; hence drawing negative attention to themselves. For example, Mike starts making farting sounds in the corner and turn to him and say, "Be quiet, Mike! Points off for you (as I walk up to his desk chart and write, minus 10.)!" Oh, they are all on a point system, which I have mixed feelings about. At grad school we are taking Positive Support Systems. It is really Behavior Modification for Special Education populations. Focus on the positive, etc...
So I have been learning to use the "Speak to the Hand" method of settling these Talk-out-of-turners. Let's go back to Mike making toileting sounds during reading and I'm trying to get Johnny to comprehend that he needs to focus. I have been told to put up my hand in Mike's direction, not to make eye contact and say, "You are interrupting and it's Johnny's turn; you need to raise your hand to make comments." The ones that are in the lower grades (3rd) usually want to please and raise their hands. I just think it's funny that I get to use the "Speak to the Hand" method in my everyday work. :) Just imagine if you used that with your Dad. "Dad, you are interrupting right now, I'll talk to you in a minute." If your dad's anything like mine that would mean trouble with a capital T!

Those Inappropriate Robots!

Lions and tigers and robots, oh my! Have you seen the hoopla about the menacing Nite-Brite robots posted through out some of the Nation's largest cities?

Bomb squads were brought in and press conferences given because they feared these random, blinking robots might mean an impending terrorist attack. Yes, that is the very first thing I think of, too, when I see a brightly lit picture of a robot looking angry and using his middle finger. (I mean it is not the fault of the robot that he is being rude, he might have been made with only one finger.) Is our local government and police that on-edge and paranoid to not only get pissed off about it, but have every robot removed costing Boston a Lot O Money. What is weird about all of this is that they quickly found who was responsible and were still arresting individuals for placing the placards. Also I would like to know why they arrested those men when they knew, very well, the company responsible (the Cartoon Network)? Wouldn't you think after testing the first robot to see, if indeed it was dangerous, and finding it was just a board with flashing lights bulbs in the shape of a robot they would have re-grouped.
I find news stories like this disconcerting because it shows how crazy and paranoid people are becoming. But do you remember, about a decade ago, where the pie sign, like the one you need to find the radius of a circle, was found all around places like New York City. It was in sticker form, if I remember correctly, and didn’t have a convenient explanation for passersby’s to reference. The sign was quietly placed all over public property as a way to advertise an up-coming movie. This was very clever, and cool to those in-the-know. So why, I wonder, is an obvious, non-violent way of advertising (I.E.: with funny looking robots) so threatening? Maybe I should stop watching films like “The Blue Kite,” a Chinese film about Communism gone bad and “V for Vendetta.” Portrayed in those fictional (?) movies the hunt for terrorists turn into mindless witch-hunts. Thank the Lord, at this day and age, we can all be reasonable and never jump to conclusions about silly robot signs. Oh wait...

Good bye Stinky City

I know people love San Francisco. Probably those people who don’t have very high expectations. Living in SF was the first step into working and living in the Yay Area – more jobs = good thing. But living in a highly populated city like San Fran you have to lower your standards, unless you have oodles upon boodles of money. Bums are everywhere (will someone open, or reopen an insane asylum already?) = milk jugs of pee and human doo on the side walk. Or if you are lucky like Chris and I, poo doo right in front of the car door. I guess we were lucky it wasn’t smeared on our car, eh?
Trash is everywhere. And you have to move your car at certain times for “Street Cleaning.” If you don’t, they’ll fine you around $40 and they only succeed at pushing the trash around, not picking it up. The city is so crazy about cleaning streets they even stop traffic on the freeway to “clean” it. Weirdos.
The streets just smell, if not due to the reason stated above, it is odors wafting from the sewers – mmmmm, yummy! We temporarily discontinued our nightly walks because of the people on the streets of our neighborhood. Homeless asking for money, poo doo, druggies – it was less stressful staying in-doors. Well, our apartment wasn’t a cake-walk either, but haven’t I complained enough for one posting?
Being the Child-of-the-suburbs that I am, we have happily relocated to a nearby bed-room community. Not a bum in sight! God really answers prayers. With Chris’s new job he finally has health insurance – we are living the American Dream. I love paying rent. Sorry for the sarcasm. We will be moving twice in a month to a rental that is, hopefully, going to fulfill all our desires. And I’m back in school – back to ruining my eyesight reading a million pages a week.