Posts (page 2)
Seriously, the fist bump? As a gang symbol? In that case, all the white, semi-rural, private-school kids I taught last year are in gangs, because we did fist bumps all the time. They called it the "knocking rocks" or "bumping rocks." So as long as 14-year-old boys who love Star Wars and Linkin Park are doing fist bumps with 20-something teachers who have ancient language masters degrees and who really like L.M. Montgomery, I think it's safe to say that it's not a gang symbol. What it is, in fact, is pretty much done by everybody, and has been co-opted by us whites, just like pretty much everything else. See also: Jazz, Rock and/or Roll, "izzle."
In other news, holy crap is Michelle Obama beautiful or what?
I forget that I can't swing a dead cat in this state without hitting someone I knew from college, or who knew my brother, or who knew both of us. There's a former Gustie in my Ed Psych class, only this time it's someone with a SUPER COOL STORY! And it was this story of him falling off a waterfall in Belize, BEING LEGALLY DEAD, and being revived that flashed in my head when I finally recognized him, which lead to me shouting in the middle of introductions, "I KNOW YOU! YOU DIED AND CAME BACK TO LIFE!" Which really confused the class. But this dude and i used to run in the same circles, though we didn't talk much one-on-one per se, so the "You were dead then you weren't" story was all I had to go on.
He said that he usually doesn't tell people that the first time he meets them, but that it's okay that I outed him as a zombie.
Lookit that face! LOOK!
How can anyone say anything mean about this guy? Look at his daughter! I've worn that facial expression before, it means, "OMG! MY DAD IS AWESOME! MAKE HIM PRESIDENT!" My dad would make a kickass president. But so would this guy, and my dad isn't running for president (YET), so my vote goes here.
ABOUT DAMN TIME!
Also, the historic announcement took place in MY stompin grounds, not more than 2 miles from my house! I had my first Hamline class yesterday, so I couldn't be there, but still.
WOO!
1736 - Patrick Henry, American patriot, statesman, and orator
1903 - Bob Hope, British-born comedian and actor
1917 - John Fitzgerald Kennedy, 35th President of the United States
1953 - Danny Elfman, American musician
1958 - Annette Bening, American actress
1959 - Rupert Everett, English actor
1959 - Adrian Paul, English actor (Hell yeah! Isn't this the Highlander?)
1961 - Melissa Etheridge, American musician
1963 - Lisa Whelchel, American actress (Blair from The Facts of Life. I know my 80s TV)
1967 - Noel Gallagher, English musician
1848 - Wisconsin is admitted as the 30th U.S. state. (My home, peeps!)
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As for me, well, today I am complete ensconced in my mid-20s. I am a grown-ass woman and one day I will have my shit together. All the same, let's not think too hard that my Sweet 16 was ten years ago. We want today to be fun, not depressing. Though it is raining and I have to go to work... whatever. We'll have fun.
Suddenly it's late spring, as the tan line I got on the field trip day suggests (nice day to wear a V-neck, don't you think?). Spring was especially slow in coming this year, though maybe it seemed slower because I'd spent the last three springs much farther south -- and I forget that things happen three weeks behind up here. But the season is a season -- there was a gradual warming. In Champaign there were only two seasons, cold and swamp-ass.
Here, there is a slow and frustrating spring that suddenly jumps into summer, just in time for my birthday. I've always considered this season to be my yearly birthday gift -- everything, down to the lilacs, is here for me. That's how you grow up to be cheerful, ladies and gentlemen.
So after work today, I took an evening bike ride to the East Mississippi Pkway to take in the sunset. I wasn't alone -- there were a few others who made the pilgrimage out there to gaze at the skyline of Minneapolis, to look down at the river that cuts across the whole country but starts in this state. When I drove up to Red Lake last month, I crossed the Mississippi three times. The further north I went, the smaller it got, until I reached Itasca and it was just like any stream, innocent of the giant it would become.
My readership has gone into the double-digits, (that's right, I'm raking in upwards of 50 page views a week), and like any other big, important blog, I think it's time I gave some love to the little struggling blogs out there, little one-horse operations like Pandagon and Television WIthout Pity. They'll appreciate my patronage, I'm sure.
In all seriousness, here's what I've been lovin' about the blog-o-sphere lately:
Weapons of Mass Couture: I've known for years that Rachel Ray was a terrorist! Actually, this is a nice examination of political symbols in fashion at Feministe. I've been away from a lot of the feminist blogs for a few weeks, mostly due to being busy, but I love the way Jill thinks and writes.
"The Bitch can wear clothes": Love her or hate her (and I fall on the side of complete, unwavering LOVE), SJP wears couture effortlessly and makes it look almost reasonable. You know, she's just out on the town with her co-star of SATC, wearing a peacock dress. Whateves. The 'mos at ProjectRunGay love SJP like I do, only they know stuff about fashion that I don't.
Babies of the Eighties: I'm a new reader of Jezebel, and wow, they fuckin' rule. It's great to have a pop-culture site that doesn't spend every post talking about whether or not a woman is meeting her fuckability requirements. I think I've linked before to Miss-demeanors, in which they bring other pop culture sites to task for their pointless misogyny. AND HOLY CRAP do I love the Fine Lines feature for bringing me back to fiction I read as a nerdy, bespectacled 5th grader. So much that I wish I'd thought of this first. Sigh. In other news, I didn't realize how awesome those books were when I was reading them (between Babysitters Club books, of course). Makes one almost want to write YA fiction.
What's the Big Fat Deal? Um, could it be that BFDBLOG RULES? No matter what your weight or weight-related journey is, these ladies know how to make you feel good about yourself.
All Hail Dolly: Comics Curmudgeon you may know, and perhaps you've heard of Garfield minus Garfield, but what about the Family Circus of Values? You will shit your pants laughing. No scat play though.
Should this be my Birthday cake? I think so.
Finally, the usual love to Achewood. The other day at Rosedale mall, I saw an otherwise completely nerdy looking guy in a Dude and Catastrophe t-shirt that I recognized as Cornelius Bear's pub. It made him less nerdy to me, but called to attention that I probably am a big dork. Who cares. Achewood is great. In other news, when i got my new replacement computer*, I named it King Phillippe.
*This is a long and involved story and involves me on the phone alternating between yelling and crying with a CSR for HP. Eventually, they replaced my busted HP for a new and improved version of the same. I've got a webcam now, and I might use it someday. Who knows?
I can't wait 'til my neighbors and their loud, drunkass friends are out of this place. I fell asleep on the 'orch, only to be woken up by them and each and every one of their friends returning home. For the past half hour, I've been listening to some girl describe how she was aiming to beat up "that bitch who sells her pussy for money" and I have no fucking idea why. Something about disrespecting her kids and "that bitch who sells her pussy for money" fucking her baby daddy? It's a very complicated story, I'm sure. Oh, also, apparently one if their friends got hauled off to detox, and I think the whole group got kicked out of a bar.
I WONDER WHY. MAYBE IT IS BECAUSE THEY HAVE TO SHOUT FUCKING EVERYTHING AND I CAN HEAR THEM FROM EVERY CORNER OF THIS HOUSE.
Broomhandle to the floor once, twice, three times. Ugh.
We had a field trip today to the UofM Arboretum, and I actually had a blast. I had ten kids in my group and they were all pretty fun and funny, and most of them had a great time. Some of them whined a bit, but in general it was great to see a group of teenagers turn into a group of KIDS. They ran about, they played, they goofed off. One of the other chaperones thought I was being too lax on my group (because I let them run through sprinklers -- but so did other chaperones), but I was like, "Dude, they live in the middle of Northeast and don't get to run around like this. As long as they don't hurt others or themselves, I'm fine." I think it worked, because my group claimed they had fun -- and these are middleschoolers, who are bored by EVERYTHING. All the time.
The highlight was having lunch with some of my favorite students, including A+ girl and one girl who is moving to Georgia over Memorial Day weekend (much to my utter dismay - this girl is so rad I can't bear to think that she won't be around after tomorrow). And they asked me to join them! I think probably because they knew I wouldn't be drilling them about what they learned today, and they probably (rightfully) suspected that I would share bits of the box lunch that the chaperones got with them. And they chatted with me and with each other and talked freely about boys they liked and American Idol and what they wanted to do this summer. Teenage girls are so refreshingly the same, no matter where you live, no matter what era it is. They just have different technology now.
The bad part of the day was that I had to break up a fight between two girls who weren't even in my group. It was as we all were heading back to the busses -- I heard yelling, but then kids are always yelling. Then I heard thumping. I was the only adult nearby so I bolted towards them, screaming, "BREAK IT UP RIGHT NOW!" A boy thought I was yelling to him, so he jumped in and pulled one of the girls out. A few other girls pulled the other pugilist out of the fray, and she bolted from the scene. I grabbed the one remaining, who was screaming her head off at her retreating foe, and told the boy who was holding her back to get her to the bus. He did so, saying to her the whole time, "It's not worth it, it's not worth it!" (And apparently spent the whole busride home talking about it, the 7th grade math teacher told me later) After we got back to the school, the girls ran at each other again -- but someone had radioed ahead to the principals and behavior staff, so those fights were stopped instantly.
Fights don't happen as often at the school as one would think -- most of the kids are the yelling type. I prevented two fights earlier in the year by recognizing the signs and jumping in like a good ref, but this one happened without warning. When it does happen, the fighting upsets me deeply. Because, well, these are kids, and what is it that drives kids to fight like that?
They've turned on the AC in the school, even though it's been a fairly cool spring. But the calendar says it's late May, so on goes the air.
One of the eighth graders I work with shivered and asked me why they turned the air on.
"Well," I told her, "Every other bureaucracy I've experienced doesn't think like a reasonable person. MPS looked at the calendar, saw it was May 20th and said, 'All right, this is as good a time as any to turn on the AC.' They didn't even consider that it's not even 70 degrees outside."
My eighth grader looked at me with the sort of outraged incredulity that everyone experiences when they realize things in the world are intentionally fucked up.
"They need to be punched in the face!" she exclaimed vehemently.
