It's Raining Because You're In Florida and It's Hurricane Season for Crying Out Loud

Remember this moment from early on in Gilmore Girls?

I'm sure everyone's gotten far past season one by now (even I'm on season three by now . . . I'd totally be done by now if netflix had put it up in September when I was only working two days a week, but now that I'm back up to four . . . ), but can I just say I loved this scene the first time I saw it.  Michel is my hero.

I had quite the Michel day yesterday.  To the point where there were too may stories for one facebook status, but they're all too good not to share.  So much so that I'm putting off the treatise I've been writing in my head about the different flavors of touron for another day.  But once it is written, I will have a blog post full of examples for it - this one.

I was at the upgrade booth yesterday, which makes for a slightly greater variety of questions because you get the people coming off the train who haven't quite figured out that they're in a different park yet.  And the ones who know they're in a different park . . . but might not be quite sure about which park they're in now.

So there I am, minding my own business, doing my best to be friendly even though I'm super tired because it's the first time I've opened in, like, six weeks and it's way too early.  But I have my sunglasses on and I've relearned how to fake being all chipper, so it's all good.

Until a group gets off the train . . . and one of them asks me "hey, where's the gringo?"

Yeah, you read that right.

It took me approximately 7.5 seconds to realize they were asking how to find the Harry Potter and the Escape from Gringotts ride, but 12 seconds to find my voice again because let me tell you, that was one I hadn't heard before.  And since I was literally incapable of replying in those twelve seconds they asked a follow up question.  "You know, that green goat ride?"

Which, naturally, rendered me speechless for another 15 seconds, so I couldn't only point and stutter "left" a couple of times.

Luckily most tourons aren't exactly looking for eloquence in their theme park peons, so a two-fingered point is more than sufficient and 95% of the time they don't even notice the confused look on your face.

That would have been memorable enough (seriously, still trying to figure out how you get "green goat" out of "Gringotts") but an hour and a half later (almost exactly - yes, I looked) here comes another guy off the train - completely different guy - who yells at me, without even stopping "how do we get to the green goat?"

At this point my only regret was that the only pub I could send them to was The Leaky Cauldron . . . and it's in the same direction as Gringotts. But at least I knew what they were looking for as soon as they asked this time, you know?

(side note: I'm not quite sure what to make of all the people coming just to ride this one new ride because it's a new roller coaster - I can't help but think those people are getting off the ride very disappointed.  As a Harry Potter ride is really cool, but as a roller coaster . . . it's really not.  Cool, I mean.)

Anyway.  Story two.  A couple of hours later.  A couple of little old-ish ladies (as in older than my mother but probably not as old as my grandmother) come strolling slowly off the train - meaning they were just at Islands of Adventure, and I know they were at Islands of Adventure, but . . .

So they come strolling over to me, and are all sweet and smiley and kind and friendly.  And then they ask me, "so when we're done here, dear, will the train take us back to Disney too?"

Somehow they never realized they had asked an odd question - even though my jaw actually dropped and I (mostly) involuntarily cocked my head and it probably took me a full twenty seconds to be able to say "the train . . . doesn't . . . doesn't go to . . . Disney . . . "

Little old-ish ladies: Oh, so where does the train go to then?

Me: Islands . . . of Adventure?

Little old-ish ladies: So how did we get here then?

Me: I honestly don't know.

That last bit?  Absolutely true.  (suffice it to say, the little old-ish ladies fall into they type 2 category of touron, as shall be explained . . . sometime soon . . . ish . . . )

So after that the day went on for a little while with only the typically repetitive questions (where's the restroom?) and the typically stupid questions (why is it raining?  can you make it stop?) and it seemed like the day's weirdness had passed.  And then one more group got off the train around lunchtime.

Let me take a moment to make things clear.  I was at King's Cross Station yesterday.  King's Cross Station is at Universal Studios, which has Diagon Alley.  The other end of the train goes to Islands of Adventure, which is where Hogsmeade is.  And Hogwarts Castle.  That one thing you must remember, or nothing that follows will seem wondrous.(my apologies for skipping over Thanksgiving, but ten points if you gt the reference)

So they get off the train and this time the conversation goes like this:

Touron: Where is Hogsmeade?

Me: *slight pause* You just came from Hogsmeade, ma'am.

Touron: Oh, so Hogsmeade is just a train station?

Me: No, there's also a village. (side note: depending on which way they came from, they may have come upon the train station first and not noticed the village beyond that.  unobservant, but completely possible)

Touron: So where is the castle?

Me: The castle is back in Hogsmeade.

Touron: Okay, I get it now.  So Diagon Alley is over there (points in direction of Diagon Alley)?

Me: Yes.

Touron.  Okay.  So what's over there (points in direction of Diagon Alley)?

Me: *long pause* Diagon . . . Alley . . . I think . . . ?

Because clearly she was looking for a different answer to the same exact area, but I honestly couldn't begin to guess what.  My answer seemed to be satisfactory though.

But the day ended on a high note.  Toward the end of my shift I was chatting with a couple of people who came off the train raving about how awesome it was, which happens every now and again. (side note: LOVE the people who remember we're people too and not just theme park peons) It started with them saying how much they loved the train, and then went into how Universal has been really improving lately and how WWoHP is really on a level where it's almost better than Disney (another rather common sentiment we hear about from time to time)  so of course I asked which direction they preferred for the train, because the ride is different both ways, but it turns out they didn't know that.  So I explain that they can go right back on the other way to check it out, and that this way they'll get to walk through Platform 9 3/4, which they got really excited for, and then I made sure they knew that by the time they got back over to IoA they might have to walk back to USF for HHN because the train stopped running in that direction as soon as the park closed to day guests.  And they're completely okay with that because honestly it's not that far a walk and nobody should be complaining about having to walk because before this year that was their only option, and yet (not so) oddly enough being okay with it is not the reaction we have all gotten used to bracing ourselves for.  which, you know, does not say much for today's society in general.  But these guys were super friendly and super nice and we had a great little conversation (and did I mention it's so nice when people acknowledge that we exist instead of ignoring us unless it's yelling at us for not giving them whatever stupid self-centered thing they want?) so I gave them a few extra tips to make sure they didn't miss anything and in the end I got added to the list of super helpful and friendly team members they were keeping and when they get home they're going to send a letter with the list to Universal so, yay!  Turns out the day full of both regular craziness and extra special craziness paid off in the very end.

But I'm still very happy to have a three day weekend.


P. ost  S. cript
Like there would be anything else here today.

Not Ashamed

Nano update: so far so good, as of yesterday I was even a little ahead of where I needed to be.  But today there's a bit of writer's block going, and I'm pretty sure it's partially rant induced, so I'm getting it out.  (you know my motto - blogging is cheaper than therapy.  plus I'm not sure this quite qualifies as needing therapy.)  At the moment I haven't even decided if this post will ever even see the light of day . . .

Anyway.


I didn't vote yesterday.  I didn't vote early.  I didn't vote at all.

It's not because I don't care.  It's not that I didn't know who to vote for.  It's not even because I didn't want to.  (okay, it kind of is that last one.  a little.)

It's because there is absolutely nothing in the world more pointless than voting in Utah.

Nothing.

I know I'm far from the first person to rant about the electoral college and it's uselessness and the way it nullifies more than half the votes cast . . . but it really drives me nuts to think that such an archaic, deliberately biased system is still in place.

I mean, think about it.  In a rational world, a world where American politicians elected to offices higher than, oh, mayor-ish were capable of thinking of anything other than themselves it would work like this (metaphorically speaking): everyone would get a card.  Red or blue.  Or green or orange or pink because in this world those other cards would actually be relevant.  You pick the color you want and you send it to Washington DC and it's put in a stack with all the other cards of that color.  And in the end whoever has the tallest stack of cards wins.  152 red cards?  Awesome.  153 blue cards?  You lose, red.  Every vote counts, every single solitary card makes a difference because it contributes to the whole stack.

But instead we have this -

Every state gets a bucket of water.  Every person gets to put one drop of food coloring in the water, red or blue.  In the end, some buckets are deep crimson or sapphire.  Some buckets are decidedly fuchsia or plum shaded.  But there are only two trucks to load the buckets in, so a fuchsia bucket get put in the same truck as a crimson one, and a plum buckets goes with the sapphires.  49 blue drops and 51 red drops?  Is the exact equivalent as 100 red drops.

Seriously, how does anyone actually believe their individual vote matters?

I mean, sure, in some states you are going to have a very purple shade, and in that case your one drop might just make the difference between fuchsia and plum . . . but then there's Utah, and all the other states like it.  The states that get 99 red (or blue) drops.  And I'm supposed to believe that my one red drop will make the bucket any more crimson?  Or that my one blue drop will give it even the slightest hint of purple-ish-ness?  No.  It doesn't.  Even a toddler could see that.  So what's the point?

(this is the point where people with jump in with "but the local races!!!!!!!!" which in some places might strike me as a valid argument.  but here . . . I don't see my vote making any difference in those races either)

It's twenty-freaking-twelve.  How is this possible?  Four years ago I was blown away by all the presidential commercials I was seeing on tv.  I'd never seen one before.  I was twenty-four years old and I honestly hadn't even known they existed before that year.  I don't remember what I thought, you hear all the talk about having to give candidates equal airtime and regulations and whatever, and I guess I just figured commercials weren't allowed for presidential candidates because they got all the air time on the news and such.

And then this year.  Not in Florida anymore, something seemed off for the longest time and I couldn't place it until a couple of months ago.  The commercials were gone.  Not a single presidential commercial to be seen.  Anywhere.  Meanwhile, today is the first day in who knows how many months that people in Ohio have seen a commercial that wasn't political.  And I'm supposed to think this is okay?  I don't think so. 

And then there was watching the results come in last night.  Which I'd never done before, but Luke wanted to so we made pizza-and-a-movie night into pizza-and-the-news night.  Going in I did have a bit of a clue what was going on, in fact I'd heard on the radio yesterday morning that Ohio, Virginia, and Florida were the keys and if Romney didn't get at least one of them he didn't have a prayer.  So we're watching, and none of those three have come in and then all the sudden Ohio comes in and somehow it's all over and done with and I'm like "wait a second, he could still get one of the others" but no, apparently they didn't actually matter either.  I mean, they hadn't even finished counting . . . even in those states that just twelve hours ago had been so critical.  The votes in those states could literally not have been counted and it wouldn't have changed a thing - and they're supposed to be the ones who count the most!  (and let's just ignore the hypocrisy in the fact that a statement like that could even exist in a country that supposedly believes "all men are created equal.")

Of course, there's also the part where the polls weren't even closed in Alaska and Hawaii when the whole thing was declared officially over.  So, you know, go on home guys.  It's not like we need you or anything, you know?  We're not waiting until it's 5:00 in the morning in New York to find out who wins!

Someday, heaven willing, we want to live in a state where it's a matter of a fuchsia bucket versus a plum bucket, rather than crimson versus sapphire.  Then?  I will vote, and gladly.  Until then . . . I see no point.


P. ost  S. cript
I decided to go ahead and hit that orange button . . . so here's a palate cleanser before you all tell me what a terrible person I am.  (fun fact: I have actually met a slightly disturbing number of people with these very names!)

Looking for Something to Say

Ever have that feeling that you want to talk to someone but you just can't think of anything to say?  That pretty much explains my blog absence for the last little while, which a few people have mentioned/questioned.  Sorry, it's just been one great big "I've have nothing to add to that" moment around here.  I still love the kids at school (except for the days when I can't stand them), there's nothing monumental going on in our lives (unless you count Luke's schedule changing so he gets off at 10 instead of midnight, which we see as kind of a big deal), and I haven't had any particularly philosophical moments to ramble on about (a side effect of end-of-the-year burnout, I'm thinking).

So I suppose this post is mostly just to assure everyone that we're still alive . . . and also (just a little) to celebrate the wonderful feeling you get when you discover that lots of people agree with you on something when you thought you were the only one who felt that way.  Shockingly, I'm not in the mood to rant (I must be really burned out!) but maybe I will be by the time comments start rolling in, lol.

Anyway.  I shall just make my two little points and leave you all to duke it out.  Or unfollow me, as the case may be. (although I hope that doesn't happen!)

I totally agree with this, it's kind of really horrible and probably is going to do more harm than good in the long run.  And some people really need to get this kind of grip on reality and stop judging people they don't even know.

And this?  Unnecessary, disrespectful to the artist, and more than a little hypocritical.

Well . . . it'll be nice to see who still talks to me this time next week, lol.


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Title says it all.  The mind, she is boggled.

Goodbye, Cruel World

Shari - you totally need to get these.



You guys, I really think this winter is going to kill me. Or at least that Old Man Winter is trying to.

In case I haven't convinced you that I am a complete freak of nature - remember how I apparently have synesthesia? Yeah, 'nother story like that. But not nearly as pleasant.

Again, coming from the I-thought-everybody-was-like-this-until-Luke-gave-me-weird-looks file, sometimes when I get sick my skin gets super-hypersensitive. Like, ridiculously so. Like, enormously sensory overloaded so. It's really hard to describe, so bear with me, m'kay?

Anyway, you know how you can feel you clothes against your skin? (please, save the DUH! moments for the end) But it's such a normal and constant sensation that your brain just tunes it out? When I get sick it's like my brain can't do that. Everything I touch sends this woosh of sensory info to my brain. Every time I shift my weight I feel my clothes brushing against me - every inch of my shirt against every inch of my back. It's a really weird tingling feeling . . . the most bizarre combination of pleasant/painful I've ever encountered. On one level it's a slight tickle that might make one relax a little . . . on the other there's so much of it that my brain just can't handle it and it starts registering it as painful instead.

Clearly, I belong in a circus.

Anyway. I have never gotten that hypersensitivity without some sort of accompanying illness, usually a stomach flu or something for a day or two. The two always, always go together.

Until yesterday, when I woke up with super sensitive skin and kind of achy all over. And other than that . . . nothing. And today . . . still sensitive but otherwise nothing.

I? Have no idea what's going on. It's confusing and kind of obnoxious. And because I can think of no other culprit, I'm totally blaming the fact that it was gloomy yesterday and snowed last night after a whole week of lovely spring-like conditions. Dude, I was going around without a jacket last week and today I needed my coat! We all know what an old lady I am mentally, apparently my body has just decided to catch up or something. Blargh.

So anyway - if you happen to see me somewhere around this week and it looks like I'm walking around in a daze just know that my clothes are still too . . . I don't know, heavy? present? . . . for me to register much else. Work this week is going to be interesting.


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Honestly, I've lost count of how many times I've watched this since it showed up on facebook. It's just that awesome. Also: do frogs have teeth? (file under: burning questions you didn't know you wanted to know)

Today's Lesson Is . . .

Never Underestimate the Ability of Americans to Make EVERYTHING Revolve Around Food.

But first.



Huge props to Lora for suggesting such an utterly Lacey-proof solution to the amazing disintegrating zipper. Make note kids, 'cause when you find a fix-it that even I can't screw up . . . you want to hold on that.

But again, all thanks go to Lora for enabling me to go to school yesterday looking absolutely fabulous.

*insert a couple gratuitous pictures of my fabulous self here*


Seriously, how did I not totally make the character auditions? (don't answer that)

A few things:

~ Finally wearing this dress going on twelve years after it was purchased. How CRAZY is that?!?!
~ The kids' reactions upon seeing me = totally better than any high school boy's would have been.
~ Pulled out my curling iron for the first time in at least 2 years (probably more) and learned a couple of thing. 1- the curling iron still works . . . good to know. 2- relearned that my hair really doesn't hold curl well or long without a bit of hairspray. Too bad my mom spent my entire childhood using the stuff like the 80s would never end, otherwise I might be able to stand the it.
~ This shall be my go-to Valentine's dress. Which means it shall also be my motivation to keep in really good shape . . . because I don't think I could gain more than a pound or two and still fit in to this thing.


Moving on to our lesson. I'm sure this has been noted by many people before, but have you noticed how EVERY single holiday in this country revolves around food, no matter what its original purpose was? I mean, think about it -

Halloween - originally a day to honor the spirits of the dead/saints. Now? A day to dress oddly and gather/hoard copious amounts of candy

Thanksgiving - originally a day to thank God for a bountiful year or whatever other blessings one may be so inclined to be thankful for. Now? The day revolves so much around food that some people don't even call it Thanksgiving anymore. In fact, I had a manager at Disney that I sometimes wondered if she even knew that that's what the day was actually called. One time someone said the word "Thanksgiving" in her hearing and she responded with "What? You mean Turkey Day?" Oy.

Christmas - second only to the commercialism is the extravagance of the Christmas feast. And let's not forget the stockings filled with candy.

Easter - while still much more religious than it rapidly secularizing cousin, there's still the big deal made over the Easter Ham or Easter Lamb. And, of course, jelly beans and cadbury eggs. (mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm!!!)

July 4th? Memorial Day? Forgetting the founding of a nation and honoring fallen soldiers - these days are all about the picnics and barbecues. Oh, and furniture sales where the big draw is the "free hot dogs and soft drinks."


And Valentine's Day? Originally a feast to celebrate a Catholic saint, theoretically a day to celebrate all forms of love, these days it is essentially Halloween 2.0. For proof, may I present exhibit A:

Behold the massive haul of deliciously junkie junk I came home with yesterday! On the one hand, I'm not complaining. On the other . . . I just have to say - what the crap?!?!?!?!?! When did it become required to include candy in your valentines? When did the cutesy picture and corny pun move into the realm of "not good enough to be a meaningless token of acknowledgment to classmates, most of whom you either tolerate or actively dislike," you know? Seriously.

I mean, come one. When I was in elementary school, the pile of valentines with candy looked a lot more like my pile from yesterday that was without candy. Behold:

(also note the confusion on how to address me, lol) And can I just note that although none of these came with candy, one, as you can see, is a coupon for a free Krispy Kreme donut, and the other two have tattoos inside.

And again, it appears "just" a valentine is not enough. Is it even possible to buy a box of valentines that doesn't automatically come with either candy or a tattoo? What is up with that?


I'm amazed and a little mind boggled, I must admit . . . but I'm not exactly complaining. Because some of these kids who give their classmates king size candy bars really know how to treat their teachers right. And they (rightly, lol) include people like me in their list of teachers. So I also came home with this:

Oh, baby! And can I just say that if their parents have the money to buy a candy factory for each of their 20-some classmates AND a good half a dozen boxes of Toblerone for the teachers . . . I kind of want to see if they can adopt me and start buying me other things, lol.

Anyway. Come along with me on my entertaining (IMO) series of discoveries from after work yesterday.

I. Got. Beibered. (and I'm still not even sure how to spell his name!) And from an adorably sweet little boy at that! Is there some sub-text to this I'm missing? :-)


Clearly, Luke thinks there is. :-D


Am I supposed to use the box as a Christmas decoration or something when I'm done eating?


HSM is still cool? Who would have thought? Fun fact: the people with whom High School Musical is not popular - high schoolers. College kids/20-somethings? It's a hit . . . don't get me started on the stories I could tell from Disney! Younger kids? Apparently it's still one of the coolest things around. Also - note the wildcat tattoo.


What is that even supposed to mean?



Okay, who's messed up idea was it that bugs are cutesy-lovey-dovey-good for valentines? Seriously! And a ginormous tarantula tattoo?!?!? I. DON'T. THINK. SO. Luke got the bag of goldfish crackers attached to this one. Mostly because I threw the whole thing at him upon seeing the FREAKING GINORMOUS TARANTULA TATTOO.

Again with the bugs! And who would want an earwig tattoo?!?!??!?! I can kind of see a spider - that's all edgy and whatever . . . but an EARWIG?!?!?!?!?! WHY?!?!?!?!?! EEEWWWW!!!!!!!!


Now this is something I can get behind. Cuddly kitties, all snugly and can-haz-cheezburger-y. Tattoo is vaguely creepy looking, but what can you do?


Wait. Wait. WAIT. The Rugrats grew up? The Rugrats can't grow up! By very definition they thereby cease to be rugrats! This is seriously the most illogical thing I've seen in . . . well, a few days at least.


So, in conclusion - food is good. But it's ceasing to be surprising that so many people in this country are wider than they are tall. What do you expect with a collective unconscious that is literally turning every single day of the year into an excuse to gorge on something "special" or whatever? Coming this fall: special edition Talk Like a Pirate Day chocolate oranges. Specially formulated to prevent scurvy!


On that note . . .


Anyone want this one? we won't be anywhere near Orem in the next month.


P. ost S. cript
Seriously, is there anything lamer than a kisskam? I've always wondered what happens if(when) they get people who aren't together. I mean, you don't know. Maybe they're cousins. Maybe they've just met and are just chatting and getting to know each other. This little girl seriously gets it right.

Seeking Biased Answers

So. Last week. Fourth grade. There's a little bit of down time while the class is elsewhere, so I'm chatting with the volunteer mom who comes in and checks in homework in the mornings. Among other things, it comes up that she works at Convergys, so naturally I mention that "my husband" works there too. She asks who he is and it turns out they know each other and there's all the crazy "small world, isn't it?" stuff and whatever . . . and then she mentions that she didn't realize I was married. And that she never would have guessed that I was.

That was not the first time I've had that conversation in recent memory.

I'm confused.

It's not like I'm trying to hide my marital status . . . on the other hand, I am also not flaunting the ring on my left hand in everyone's faces either. Mostly because I didn't even do that when we got engaged. And I'm used to the surprise from the kids when they find out I'm married. It's always so interesting to see which ones are interested and how many other questions they ask. And a certain young Eric, whom I'm pretty sure has had a crush on me for 3 years now, has reacted with pure shock and disbelief (and probably a little disappointment, lol) 3 times now upon hearing the news. I think it has something to do with the fact that I'm at least ten years younger than all the other aides. And . . . the fact that I go by "Miss Lacey" might have something to do with it. Maybe.

But seriously - the adult thing. I just do. Not. Get it. I can see the not realizing it thing, like I said I don't exactly flaunt it. But the would never have guessed it thing? The never occurred to them it was possible thing? I'm baffled. And I realize that while no one reading this is even remotely able to give an unbiased answer because, well, you people know me, I have to ask - do I send out some sort of single vibe? Do I exude some single-ready-to-mingle party girl aura? Where is this coming from? I. Am. Confused.

Maybe I should start drinking. Apparently I could score plenty of free drinks - even with the rock on my finger. And mostly I can't think of anything else that being single can get you for free at the moment. :-)


P. ost S. cript
From the "glad we didn't have a videographer file" . . . :-)

For Future Reference

So imagine you work as an aide in an elementary school. Purely hypothetically speaking, of course. And you spend part of your time in fourth grade. And in this fourth grade class they do math timings, which you've read about on this one awesome blog sometime in the past but you really can't remember where. And some of these kids have progressed beyond doing 30 problems in one minute and are working on doing 100 problems in 3 minutes. And those kids generally move to a back table to do that timing.

Now. Imagine that on this particular that a rather large group of fourth graders are doing the 3 minute timing. Such a large group, in fact, that the table is full and there are a couple of kids who still need spots. One observes the dilemma and quickly moves to the other back table. The other stands a few feet away from the first kid and stares blankly about the room, mostly at the full table.

You ask him what the problem is. He says there's no room at the table. You say to find another seat. He says he supposed to do the timing at that table. You say that's clearly not an option and just sit down somewhere and get going. He says but where do I sit. You say how about that almost empty table with another kid at it doing the exact same timing you're supposed to be doing right now. He ultimately ends up standing and using the counter along the back wall, but not after protesting that the timer has already started and he won't get the entire time. To which you reply that it is his own fault and that if he can't figure out that he'll have to sit somewhere other than a full table (and that he had plenty of time to do so) then he will have to take the consequences - in this case having about 2.5 minutes instead of 3. He looks at you in absolute shock and betrayal.

But, of course, this is all purely theoretical. It didn't, like, happen today or anything. And totally not to me.

I think I've mentioned once or twice that one of the things I like about working with older kids is that you can actually talk to them as opposed to talking at them which, let's be honest, is usually what you're doing when you talk to a younger kid.

So now I'm left wondering - when exactly is it that kids start to think? You know, logically? In my mind, this kid's internal monologue should have gone something like this: "Well, I'm supposed to come to this table, but it's full and there's no room to sit here. I still have to do this timing, and I have to have a surface to write on, so I need to find another space to do it. Oh, look! Here's an empty table 3 feet away from the first one! There's nothing special or magical about the other table that requires me to do the timing there, I'll go sit at the other table!"

Okay, maybe not that concise. But still, maybe something like "no seat . . . need seat . . . look, seat! . . . sit there!"

Seriously. Is that too much to ask? All day I've been thinking maybe it is, based on the look he gave me. And I get the feeling that this is something I should know - did I demand too much thought from a 9/10-year-old? I could see why this would happen if it were in a kindergarten or first grade class - they're still so determined to do just what they're told that such an adjustment might register as disobedience and getting in trouble. But it seems to be that by fourth grade a kid should be starting to recognize the times when adapting the instructions is necessary.

There's another kid who pulls at least one warning card almost everyday because he spends more time watching what others are doing and tattling when he thinks what they're doing is wrong than he does working on his own assignment. Needless to say, he almost never finishes the assignment which gets him in more trouble, and even though I tell him to quit tattling and mind his own business every time I'm the one who sends him to pull the card, he still - after five months! - has yet to make the connection between what he's doing and the results.

Then of course there's this kid. Who hasn't changed in the least and can still barely add two and two and heaven forbid you bump one of those numbers up to three!

My conclusion: kids are stupid a lot longer than they thought they were.

Now it's time for the experts to weigh in and make me feel better by telling me I'm wrong and these three clueless kiddies are the exception to the rule.

Right?


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There's just something about laughing babies that makes everything seem brighter. :-)

Eleven Epic Ecritures

(Note: ecritures = French for writings. Because no way was I only going to be 2/3 alliterative, lol.)


1 ~ Singing Rebecca Black's "Friday" to the tune of Justin Bieber's "Baby"? Epic. I'm not sure if it's epically awesome or epically horrifying . . . but it's definitely epic. (btw, did I spell Beiber right?) Turns out sometimes 5th graders aren't obnoxious, but actually funny!

2 ~ Today in 5th grade: listing things that fall into the category "things with wings." The group I was with came up with only bird and plane (and one kid had bat). So I asked them to come up with one more that was neither bird nor plane. This ensues:

Kid 1: Eagle!

Me: That's a bird.

Kid 2: A flamingo!

Me: That's a bird.

Kid 3: A jet!

Me: That's a type of plane.

(Georgette): I know! A wingless bird!!

Me: *blank stare. about three beats*
*cracks up*
(thinking) aaaaaaaaaand two strikes with one swing!

Georgette gets a code name because I have the feeling this is not the last you'll be hearing from her, lol.


3 ~ Passing a random first grader in the hall - her eyes get big. "You were the princess kitty on Halloween!!" Dude, even the kids who don't know me know who I am. Pretty sure I've achieved rock star status or something. :-)

4 ~ Conversation with Luke today:

Luke: When is Thanksgiving?

Me: The 24th.

Luke: What day?

Me: *blank stare*

Luke: I don't know what day of the week that is!

Me: *face palm*

Sometimes all I can do is roll my eyes and think this. (at part 1:17)


5 ~ Bit of trivia for you - about 90 years ago an American woman came up with the idea for wearing poppies in November for Veteran's Day (then Armistice Day). Apparently it caught on pretty big. It's still big in Europe . . . in America . . . not so much. Interesting, no?

6 ~ Assuming I could put together an accurate recreation of these . . . things . . . would this not be the most horrifyingly creepy Halloween costume ever? That smile . . . those elbows . . . they're going to give me nightmares!!

7 ~ The Mark of Athena? Needs to be out now. Not exactly Deathly Hallows level of need . . . but DUDE, I hate waiting for books to come out!

8 ~ Throwing jeans in the dryer in the morning so they're warm when you get out of the shower and dress? AMAZING!

9 ~ Obnoxious neighbor story. So our downstairs neighbors sort adopted some stray cats forever ago (meaning the cats showed up and the neighbors fed them). Then our diagonal downstairs neighbors moved in and didn't have any objection to the cats. Then we move in. Fast forward to about six weeks ago. Diagonal neighbors have purchased a fancy new car and now the cats are suddenly unacceptable because apparently one of them threw up on their old car once. And their new car is, like, unwashable or something. So they complain and the landlords say get rid of the cats, which is sad because everyone else loves the cats and they keep the mice out of the outdoor storage sheds. Almost as soon as the cats are gone the fancy new car inexplicably disappears never to be seen again. And last week the universally disliked (and not just for cat-related reasons) diagonal neighbors move out. Seriously? You're too lazy to wash your new car so you get the cats disappeared and then you move out? Dear ex-neighbors: you suck.

10 ~ Scraping windows also sucks. Totally trying this sometime soon.

11 ~ Black Friday starts at 10:00 on Thursday?! Is there no low too low for someone out there to sink to in order to make a buck? Here's hoping no one shows up for at least a few hours . . . but I doubt it.



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A fun little video, particularly for the Tiger Mother readers out there, lol. And it takes some serious talent!

Not Making Waves

I've kind of really been wanting to post this as my facebook status for a little while now, but I have the feeling it would open a can of worms I'd rather not deal with at the moment. Especially if the reason my car wouldn't start today when I tried to leave work is not the starter . . . but that is a rant for another time . . . maybe.

So. Today's discussion:

If it was not also a dessert, the name "Cobbler" would be just as popular as the name "Cooper."

Because seriously, there are kids out there named "Barrel-maker." What is up with that? Sure, I'm not saying you have to go all Lo-ruhamah and Ruhamah or whatever. (and let's not go into how freaking hard it is to find something when you know what your looking for but don't remember the actual reference or even the vicinity of where to look . . . for the record these aren't even the names I was looking for!)

But seriously, can't you at least spare a thought for when the kid tries to look up his name someday? Imagine -

"My name means princess!"

"My name means a strong and mighty wind!"

"My name means lion-hearted!"

"My name means . . . maker of barrels . . . "

And my name means I got a rock.

Anyway, this was supposed to be a two-line post. So I shall stop and save up my rant juice for something really good.

But I mean it - yay or nay on all those hypothetical Cobblers? :-)


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So I'm not generally one for all the gazillion singing shows on tv lately but since it's been at least 3 seasons since Dancing with the Stars cast anyone I was interested in watching I needed something new to occupy my time on Monday nights. And this? Fills it nicely. Holy freaking ALL VOCAL. Check it out. Seriously.

Here I Go Again

Today I saw a fifth grader reading Twilight. A FIFTH GRADER. As in A TEN-YEAR-OLD. There is not enough profanity in the world to fill in the symbols in the "Are you @#$%^%&*^(&^%@!#@%^%&%@$!#$^%^%$&^#@$%^%$&^&%*&^$%ing kidding me?!?!?!?!?!" that has been going through my head all afternoon.

I know, I know, I've ranted about Twilight before. So for those of you who don't spend your spare time rereading my past blog posts, here's the recap:

1. The books themselves - story = not that bad, an original take on the vampire legend that could have made for an entertaining guilty pleasure if not for the fact that the writing = a level of horrendous I've only seen exceeded by a classmate who needed to reconsider her major back in college. (side note: this might be the most awesomest site in the history of the internet. so true, so perfect, and often so funny.)

2. Abusive male + submissive female = not okay in any relationship.

3. Humanity is clearly losing its grip on reality.

Okay, now on to my new rant's bullet points. Yay!!

(2) 1 ~ Who in their right mind lets a ten-year-old read a book that's meant for teenagers and (as I argued last time) still rather inappropriate for them? Either this child is reading her parent/guardian's copy or she got it out of a library. And either way, I am not the only adult who knows she's reading it. I refuse to believe she got it out of the school library, so it strikes me as logical to assume that some sort of parental figure is aware of this child's chosen reading material. (and yeah, let's be honest, I might be completely off here but I'ma go with it because it fits into my angry tirade and don't mess with me when I'm ranting, dangit!)

So this begs a few questions. Does this parental figure support the horrible "gender roles" illustrated in this series? Do they want their daughter to think being meek and submissive will win her the man of her dreams rather than an abusive psychopath? Do they want her to want a manipulative emotional abuser? Are they trying to teach her that she is only worth as much as a male thinks she is? There are not words to describe how many levels of wrong and awful this is!! It's bad enough that in this day and age there are still people who think that way, but at least the adults - and even the teens, to an extent - who pick up these books are (theoretically) able to see the glaringly obvious problems with the way Bella interacts with every single freaking male in her life . . . but this girl doesn't know what she's reading. All she sees is a super popular book that all the big girls read and she wants to look grown up, and now she's going to think that this is what she should spend her high school years seeking out. And granted, my high school expectations were horribly skewed too . . . but Saved by the Bell is ridiculously harmless comparatively speaking.

I'm on the fence about Harry Potter as appropriate for this age group - those last few book get rather, er, gritty, shall we say - but just based on this I'm all for them. (click on 'em to make them bigger and, you know, be able to read them.)




(2) 2 ~ These books are SO inappropriate for someone in FREAKING ELEMENTARY SCHOOL. I haven't heard this one yet, but the other day Aunt Sharon was telling me about mothers who say things like, "I haven't read Twilight, but I'm okay with my daughter reading them because she's Mormon."

Ummmmmmmmmmmmm . . . what? I'm sorry, but just because you can buy these books at Deseret Book doesn't mean they're appropriate for all ages, or even appropriate for anyone who shops there. In fact, as far as I'm concerned they may as well start carrying bodice rippers with Fabio on the cover because that's about the level of integrity they have in my eyes after carrying these books (and, actually, a couple of others that my mom thought would be okay because she bought them there only to be quite surprised when she read them. and then horrified that I'd read them because they were for me. but I digress). In fact, I'm pretty sure the publishing arm of the company wouldn't touch them with a thirty-nine-and-a-half foot pole . . . and now I'm curious about just how many places the manuscript was submitted before it was accepted - and what those places were.

So Lacey, you may ask, just what is age-inappropriate in these books . . . other than, you know, everything?

Let's start with the graphic violence that's in all four books. Because it. Is. Graphic. And let's stop and take a moment to ponder why it is that generally Mormons are okay with graphic violence, but even a whisper of sex is enough to condemn a person to the deepest, darkest circle of Hades. Yeah, could someone please explain that one to me because I've seriously been wondering for years. A little bit of passionate kissing and a smidge of hands roaming bodies and everyone's all "grab your torch and pitchforks!!" But limbs hacked off and blood spurting everywhere? Bring it on.

(Note: yes, that is a gross generalization. But in my experience it is accurate - just exaggerated.)

Then, of course, there's the fact that Bella only agrees to marry Edward because Edward won't sleep with her otherwise. Say whatever you want about the books promoting abstinence - the fact is, Bella spends Eclipse mostly trying to get into Edward's pants. I suppose props ought to be given for that reversal of gender roles . . . but is that the picture of marriage we want to be sending to the rising generation? "We" referring to both humanity in general and Mormon mothers in particular. Maybe I'm over analyzing things (of course I would have to disagree with you there) but the message I'm seeing is something like "marry him if you have to girls, but don't bother buying the pig if you can get the sausage for free."

This could probably go under the graphic violence heading, but since it added flashing exclamation points to Lacey's List of Reasons Not to Get Pregnant, it gets a separate entry:

HOLY. TRAUMATIZING. BIRTH SCENE.

'Nuff said. For those not in the know, the demon mutant baby performs a c-section on Bella. FROM THE INSIDE. I know it's ridiculous, but talk about not making the thought of childbirth any more appealing. (ummmmmm . . . sorry Lora . . . Shari . . . Camille . . . happy thoughts!!!)

On that note there's the whole imprinting thing. Which I was more or less okay with until what's-his-butt imprinted on a toddler. And then Jacob goes an imprints on an infant only minutes old (or an unfertilized egg, depending on just how you look at it). People talk about how the whole series (let's not touch the saga aspect again, m'kay?) is about a girl choosing between beastiality and necrophilia . . . and it is, when you boil it down to the basics. So how does everyone forget that it's also totally promoting pedophilia? And I'm not saying there are levels to it or anything because the whole idea is heinous, but Twilight is pedophilia of the absolute worst sort. And don't give me that crap about him being like a brother until she grows up - that just makes it creepier because you KNOW he's just counting down the minutes until she's ready for him to be a boyfriend instead of a brother.


Soooooooo . . . yeah. It's been two hours. I'm running out of steam. (but don't think I'm not still shocked and appalled, because I totally am.) Anyway, my point is that somebody is REALLY dropping the ball for this poor little girl and I just wish I was in a position where I could pick it up. Oh, how I hope this doesn't screw her up later on in life.


One more picture, because it's true. And funny. Because it's true.





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Speaking of cats that explain why the Puritans thought all felines were possessed by the devil . . . not that anyone has been for a week now . . . especially since the nightmares have stopped. (KIDDING!!! I promise, there was only the one!) Anyway, how about a little creepy to start getting in the mood for Halloween next month.

Wake Me Up When August Ends

So starting Monday I'll be spending this year as an aide again, which is great. My hours have been cut, which is not great.

And while I know that I should just shut up and be grateful to have any job at all, I can't help but feel the rejection. After all, the whole hours cut thing comes after two and a half years of applying all over the place with absolutely no results. And if you count all the summers in college when I tried to get a job in this town I'm on an almost ten year streak, which I suppose is a pretty impressive record. I stand by everything I said earlier this month, but considering how much emphasis is placed on a person's job these days it would be nice if people would give me a second glance. Of course, this is the girl who's never gotten a job without familial intervention unless the only requirement for that job was a pulse. And I'm pretty sure Western Wats would hire zombies.

Anyway, I've pretty much spent the last ten-ish days just reading and pinning scrumptious looking treats. And wanting to eat them all. But apparently the fat gods have decided that ten pounds was just not good enough, because first I tried to make some frozen nutella hot chocolate a little while ago, only to discover that some part or other of the spinning mechanism of our blender has rusted or something and . . . well, we no longer have a blender. Then Monday I tried to make some molasses cookies and - well, I don't even know what happened. I was mixing up the wet ingredients and suddenly the mixer got all wobbly or something and . . . I don't know. The spin-y things - the spines of the beater - do those things even have their own name?! Whatever - the things that actually do the mixing . . . one of them fell off the stick you stick into the motor. Seriously, what the crap is that about?!? That makes absolutely NO SENSE. This has got to be the stupidest appliance malfunction . . . so stupid I'm pretty sure I'm the only person it's ever happened to, because how much more ridiculous can it get?

And yes, I know, holy first world problems Batman. But I've seriously been in need of a sweet, preferably chocolaty, because let's be honest: chocolate never says you're not good enough. So there is currently a large bag of pretzel M&Ms in the cupboard. And its sojourn there shall be brief.

And hopefully these cursed dog days of summer will end soon and I will stop dripping with sweat from the moment I get out of bed, which will lead to the motivation to do more than lay on the floor directly under the swamp cooler all day. Seriously, why do spring and autumn have to be so short? They're just long enough to taunt you, and then the weather is back in to unbearability!


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This? Is too cool. I'd love to learn to play, but it's got to be ridiculously difficult.

Now Wait Just a Minute

Seriously. And the root beer ones are the whole reason you bought the popsicles in the first place!!!



Anyway. So blogger added that Stats tab . . . what, like, a year ago now? It's been a while. And it's a pretty cool little feature, you know? So fun to see what people are reading and where they're from and stuff. Although I have to admit that right after I post something I tend to drive myself a little bit nuts by constantly checking and rechecking the stats. What do you mean no one's read my new post yet?! It's been, like, 20 whole minutes!!!!

Yeah, I'm a little pathetic.

In more ways than one. Because if you go to the audience sub-tab and check the all time option, mine shows that there has been one view on a Wii. Every time (which, in my defense, is not often) I look at that particular pie chart I see that and think, who the crap is reading my blog on a Wii?

Then I think, oh yeah that was me goofing off on the internet channel on our Wii that one time.

Okay, so I do have my blonde moments. But this is not a story of Lacey being a spaz . . . because let's face it, there are a lot of those.

This is a story of Lacey wondering what is up with you people.

Like I said, I have fun seeing where people are coming from (I seem to be moderately popular in Europe) and what everyone is reading. It's kind of weird, but for being SO not a math person, I'm really kind of a stats person. Anyway . . .

I have this one post - which I am absolutely not going to identify - that has literally THREE TIMES AS MANY views as my second most popular post. And for the last year or whatever since I've discovered this it has completely boggled my mind as to why. I'm sure part of it has to do with the fact that for a while I had a most popular posts list on my side bar, and since it was always the most popular it was always there for random discoverers to click on . . . but at least in my mind that just does not explain why it has so many more views than the other posts in the list. Or why it had been getting more views every week - even more than the new posts from that week. I mean really, what is that about?

So you may have noticed (but probably not . . . I can be realistic sometimes) my little experiment. I took off the most popular posts widget and added the "you may also like" widget at the bottom of each post. And whilst I was asking my awesome Elise friend how to get said widget I told her about my lovely little experiment and she said she had the same thing going on on her blog - one ridiculously popular post and no obvious reason as to why.

So we decided that I should do a poll (and I totally think she should too). Is this mystifying phenomenon just happening to us, or does everyone else have that one post that the internet seems to love for no apparent reason? And is it three times as popular? (I kid you not - this post has 126 views, and the next most viewed post has 42. That is EXACTLY three times more.)

Also: so far my experiment seems to be failing. For, like, two days after switching things up it looked like things might be changing. And then - the very day of my last post, and after I posted it . . . EIGHTEEN people in France read the uber popular post.

Wait. A. Minute. What . . . ? How . . . ? Why . . . ? I am so freaking confused. How did they even find it? Why did they zero in on that one and not read anything else? What is going on here?

I'm beginning to think that maybe blogger is just trying to mess with my mind. To which I say, play nice blogger, what little is there is already messed up enough!

Seriously though, help me and Elise out. Does blogger have something against us? Trying to drive us around another bend? Or is it an equal opportunity messer-wither?

Anyway. That's all. I'll just go back to rocking in a corner and talking to myself. :-)



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Okay, so technically this is totally month-old news, but I've been meaning to post a couple of these since I saw them ages ago and I keep forgetting. But they're just too fun not to share!!!

More than the Job

It's so frustrating when your job status is up in the air. I've had a lovely (if sometimes dull) summer, and now it's time to start wondering/worrying about whether I'll be back at school in a few weeks, and in what capacity. It'll be so great to be able to go back, both because then I'll have something to keep me much more occupied, and because I feel a little useless at times while we're living off just Luke's paycheck. Like I'm not contributing anything to our little family. Luke keeps telling me that I do and pointing out all the . . . well, for lack of a better term, housewife-ly . . . things I do. Things that need done that he either can't do (like cook) or it would be a pain in the butt for him to add to his chore list just considering demands on time. (like laundry . . . on the major plus side, Luke cleans the bathroom. I'll willingly do everything else just for that!)

So on the one hand I know there's nothing wrong with the way we've got things set up because it works for us. On the other hand, so much of a person's worth in the eyes of other people is tied to that person's job. It made it really hard for me when it was taking me so long to find one - and since that wasn't so long ago the idea of having to start hunting again for any reason really freaks me out. Especially since there is a person out there who called me lazy, and said I needed to "just grow up already, and go get a job."

I still don't know quite what to think of that. For, what, 3 years now all anyone can talk about is how everyone in the freaking country is having trouble getting a job and my problem is that I'm lazy? How is a person even supposed to respond to that? I don't know if the comment was just evidence of a callous personality, thoughtlessness, or their inability to deal with personally knowing someone stuck in crappy job search mode. All I know is that I literally cried myself to sleep that night.

So I keep reminding myself that I - and everyone else - am more than just my job. More than just what I do on a daily basis, both during the school year and during the summer. Everyone has layers to them. Everyone has different things to offer. Everyone out there is more than just their job. I am more than just my job.

It's been months said that person said that. Honestly, I don't really think about it much anymore. But occasionally I do, especially at points in time like now. And I'm realizing that the sting of the statement is probably never going to go away. It's not that surprising; it was a cruel thing to say, and it came at one of the times I was feeling the most useless. But when it comes to mind, I just remind myself that they didn't know what they were talking about. That Luke and I are both okay with our situation (although we wouldn't say no to substantial raises, lol). And that's all that really matters.

And if, heaven forbid, I don't get a phone call in the next couple of weeks . . . well, I guess I'll find something new. Even if it takes another year.

(but keep those prayers and voodoo rituals and stuff coming, k?)


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So I was watching this extreme thrills thing on the Travel Channel this morning and they included zorbing. Totally made me want to go back to Rotorua. However, seeing as the only US location, Pigeon Forge, is about a day's drive from where Team Jayla is currently residing . . . well, Tennessee it is! We'll just have to get out there for a visit. Because this? Is awesome. (but zigzagging is better.)

Strike 2

Dear Ice Cream Van:

Have you looked outside recently? We are most certainly not Walking in a Winter Wonderland right now. And I'd really rather not be for a few more months.

And while I really do appreciate your wishes regarding my Christmas experience, need I remind you (again) that similar wishes for the New Year could not be any less timely and approriate than they are right now?

Consider this your official warning. If I have to write again, I may just have to make it a break up letter.

Cordially,
Lacey


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How about you try something like these on for size?

4

Day 4 ~ A habit you wish you didn't have.

I should be more ashamed to admit to this, but I can be really judgmental of people who don't know things I think they should know.

I know it's wrong, I know I shouldn't do it, I know it's not very Christlike or positive or good-karma-inducing or whatever . . . but in my defense I also know that I'm right. Generally speaking, people should know these things.

For example - remember Miss South Carolina? Yes, let us all take a moment to revel in her pitiable nervous ineptness. But what kind of gets to me is that because of her answer, the question has gotten lost - 1/5 of Americans can't locate the US on a map. ONE-FIFTH. TWENTY PERCENT!! That's insane!!

I'm sure a lot of people will chalk this up to failing schools and crappy teachers and all the same complaints that I first heard from my parents' lips (not to me of course, but they had quite the tendency to talk as if we were deaf when we were kids) clear back when I was a kid. And while heaven knows the public education system has its issues, I'm am not laying this one on the schools. You can't find Uzbekistan on a map? That's okay, I can't either - and I'll bet most people can't . . . unless they live in Uzbekistan. You can't find Greece on a map? Okay, that might be to do sub-par geography education. You, an America, cannot find the United States of America on a map? I'm sorry, either you are legitimately mentally handicapped . . . or you are a freaking moron.

Another example - I get really judgmental when it comes to Mormons not knowing things they should. Case in point: at this point I'm beginning to believe that my family are the only ones who know the Kirtland, Ohio, is pronounced KirTland, not KirKland.

Absolutely. Drives. Me. Nuts.

I have a cousin in the MTC right now, her mission includes Kirtland and her farewell was two weeks ago tomorrow. There was some extra time at the end of the meeting and some stake dude or other got up to fill it. And talked about the time he and his wife had spent in Kirtland years. Only it was Kirkland this and Kirkland that, and I swear if he had said the name of that town one more time I would have jumped up, right there in the chapel, and screamed "IT'S PRONOUNCED KIRTLAND, YOU MORON!!!!!!!!!!"

Okay. I probably wouldn't have done that. But - eyes closed, fists clenched, teeth grinding. I seriously did want to scream. I mean, in what world - in what language?!?! - is the letter T pronounced like a K? What the crap is up with that?!?!?! Why, why, why is it so ridiculously prevalent?!!?!?!?!! Why are so many Mormons generally intelligent but somehow incapable of pronouncing this one word correctly? (and I'm not sure whether this is a good thing or not . . . but this is not a Utah phenomenon. I've run into it everywhere. grrrrr.) I'd bet you anything that if you show ANYONE else the name written down that they would have no problem saying it.

There is seriously nothing that can make me lose pretty much any and all respect for a person faster than hearing someone utter the word Kirkland.

I really shouldn't do that though. Not a very good thing, you know? But I think it's hereditary . . . on the drive back home from Twin Falls, mom was the one who brought it up for us all to rant about. And we all felt the same way. Bad hereditary habit! Bad!

Also: yes, I did pick this habit just to rant about the Kirkland guy. It's been bugging me for the last two weeks.

Alternate: I still bite my nails sometimes.


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Counterbalancing the horrible person that I am with probably the best mother cat ever. Holy breaking-glass-adorable!

Run That By Me Again?

Dear Ice Cream Van That Drives By My New Place Daily,

Let me just start by saying: I love you. It makes my day to hear you come by. And let's just say that it's a good thing that we generally don't have cash on hand around here, because it would not last long with you around.

That said, I have a bit of a question . . .

Correct me if I am wrong, but I do believe that it is June. The halfway point in the year. Halfway between last Christmas and next. One could in fact argue that at this time of year one is as far from Christmas as one could get.

So. Why on earth is it that half the time you come around . . . I hear you playing Christmas songs? I'm sorry, but charming little tunes like "Santa Claus is Coming to Town" and "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer" just do not sound the same when it's 75* outside.

Now, I will admit that something of this sort could possibly work . . . in Florida . . . or southern California . . . in December. And I realize you might have easily confused this place for somewhere like that, what with how swelteringly hot it's been around here the last couple of months, you know? Such an easy mistake!

But I have to say the last straw of weirdness was hearing you play "O Come All Ye Faithful." Really, Ice Cream Van? Really? What is that about? Why? Just . . . why? I'll admit, it's a lovely song. I'm a fan. But to hear such a sweet, inspiring carol (not song - carol) from the tinkling of your sound system - it's just not right. And I'm still confused.

Don't get me wrong, if a five dollar bill happens to come my way in the next few months I will most certainly be sharing some (perhaps all) of it with you. But can I just say - stick to "it's a small world." Please.

Love,
Lacey


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I would love to have been a bystander watching the awkward! :-)

In Which I Find Myself Feeling Various Levels of Disturbed with Myself

So a little while back there was some facebook confusion over whether I did or did not actually have an unpleasant and (these days . . . and in this country . . . ) uncommon disease. No, I did not have dysentery. And clearly I did not die from it. Just a random Oregon Trail reference. :-)


Anyway.


Part the First: There is a class that did some sort of project on animals. And they made posters. And hung them up in the hall for everyone to see. They're very interesting to read . . . but I have to admit the first time I saw them it occurred to me that the mythological guardian of the Greek Underworld was a bit of an odd choice. Especially for second graders.

So after walking past this poster half a dozen times a day for a couple of weeks it finally hit me - "ZEBRUS" means "zebras" . . . not "Cerberus."

In my defense, the Z is backwards. So it looks kind of like "SEBRUS." And I just read the last three Percy Jackson books. I'm kind of in a Greek mythology state of mind.

Part the Second: So. Fourth grade. Math groups. There are a couple of questions that cause problems every week. Like this one - the worksheet says "What is the sum or difference?" Then they look at the chart and there are squares divided into hundredths (a word I hadn't heard SINCE fourth grade until this year!). And it'll be something like 1.42 + 1.56 or 1.91 - 1.33 or something. Point being that sometimes it's addition and sometimes it's subtraction. But what happens is this - there are a few kids who read the question . . . as far as "what is the sum" and then add them up. Even if they're supposed to subtract. I tell them the answer is wrong. The add them again. And get the same answer because they did the addition correctly. And it gets repeated a couple of times. They start getting frustrated because they keep getting the same answer and I keep saying it's wrong and I can't figure out why it NEVER occurs to them that maybe their addition isn't the problem. Finally I tell them to reread the question and look closely at the chart and usually that solves things, but sometimes I have to completely spell it out for them. And I find myself using the line "You have to actually read the question. You can't just do what you think it's asking, you have to do what it actually says to do."

I got the weirdest sense of deja vu the first couple of times I said that. Monday I realized why.

Great merciful crap, I'm turning into my parents!!!! AND I DON'T EVEN HAVE KIDS YET!!!!!!!!!!!

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Talk about a slow reaction . . . hee.

I *Don't* Want to Believe

I've been doing this a lot lately.




So an old friend of mine posted this on facebook last week:

1/3 of high school grads never read another book for the rest of their lives.

46 percent of college grads never read another book after college.

80 percent of US families did not buy or read a book last year.

70 percent of US adults did not visit a bookstore in the last five years.

57 percent of new books are not read to completion.

I'm a little bit horrified. (and for those of you who pay any attention to my own facebook page, yes, I've been horrified by a lot of things recently.) I want, with every fiber of my cliche . . . I mean being . . . to convince myself that it's not true. And there's a part of me that keeps trying because I have no other source for these statistics - just my knowledge that the person who posted it is not the type of person to make these sorts of stats up just to do it. And knowing enough other people who back them up.

Even if I had not somehow found myself working in the education system I would be horrified by this. Honestly, I can barely fathom the idea. I mean, to put this in more concrete terms, it means that more than half of people my age have not read a book in 5 years or more.

WHAT IS WRONG WITH THESE PEOPLE?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!

Okay, this may come as a bit of a shock, but I'm kind of a big reader. Yeah, I know, I'll give you a moment to recover. I honestly cannot remember a time when I didn't know how to read. One of mom's favorite stories to tell while I was growing up was how, the Christmas I was in kindergarten my parents got a small Dickens anthology, and I wanted to read A Christmas Carol. So I did. In an hour. The original Dickens version, in all its Dickens-ish glory. And she didn't believe I'd really read it, so she quizzed me on it. And I knew the details that got left out of Mickey's version.

Now, something people may not know if they stick to Mickey's and the Muppets' versions is that A Christmas Carol is a novella. Pretty short. Even today I could probably knock it out in an hour or so of uninterrupted time. But still . . . a five year old reading Dickens. Probably explains why the unabridged Les Miserables ranks so high on my favorite books list. And why so many classics are on the list.

To say my life has revolved around reading . . . well, probably kind of understates the case. I seriously have to have something to read all the time, even if I can only get in a few minutes a day - which is really all I had time for in Florida. I've found myself reading the manuals that come with kitchen appliances before just out of the need to read something. Anything!

So I'm tolerably certain that there is no way for me to understand where these non-reading people are coming from. I've known a few before, and it's definitely influenced my relationships with them. I had a roommate in Florida who hated reading. (I think I died a little inside just thinking about putting those two words in the same sentence!) Absolutely refused to do it. She was a real fan of Harry Potter . . . the movies, naturally. Even the HP books couldn't convince her to pick one up. Again - unfathomable!! Anyway, the seventh book came out while we were both still there, and I'm pretty sure she was the only one in the shuttles break room who wasn't a reader. In the last few weeks before the book came out we would constantly be speculating about what was going to happen, and always pulling out references from past books to support our theories. Except for when my friend was there. More often than not we'd end up explaining things to her because she was confused because we'd mentioned something that got cut out of the movies. (like WHO THE FREAKING MARAUDERS WERE AND WHY THEY'RE KIND OF ESSENTIAL TO THE STORY!!!!!! . . . . . . . . . sorry. I'm still very bitter about the epic screw-up that is the third movie . . . . . . . . . )

Anyway. The book came out. I went with a few friends to a midnight release party. Thankfully I had the day off, and by 10:00 the next morning I'd read it. Twice. But not everyone was as much of a junkie (or as insane) or as fast as I, so there were some very strict no-spoiling rules put in place in the break room until everyone who was reading it finished. It struck me as a little silly, since my non-reading friend had spent the last month constantly bemoaning the fact that we'd just spoiled something for her. We - well, I - kept telling her that it didn't count as spoiling anything, since if she really wanted to know she could just read the books that had been out for years already. Not only did she refuse, she never could give a good reason. Nothing beyond the fact that she just didn't want to.

I'm sorry, what? You're as excited as any of the rest of us to find out what happens to Harry and, unlike the rest of us, you've got three years at Hogwarts you could lose yourself in and you "don't want to?!?!" What?

I hate to admit it, but that had a pretty big effect on our relationship, and not for the better. And as far as I know, she still doesn't know how it all ends. Which I find just sad.

The whole thing is really quite disturbing too. I mean, we're talking well over half the population that never reads. This is not right!!! Forget about these people being the future leaders of the country - these people are probably the leaders right now! (actually . . . that kind of explains what I heard today about some genius politician in the state senate that thinks kids should be taught to read by a computer. Seriously, are we raising kids or robots?) They talk about their kids' minds turning to mush as they do nothing but watch TV and play video games - but that's apparently how they spend their free time too! How hypocritical can you get?!?! I feel like I should double my book reading goal for the year just to make up for the rest of humanity. (it's over there >>>>>>>
up . . . up . . . there!) I was thinking 100 sounded ambitious, then I discovered I read exactly 100 books last year, so I made it 150. How many people do you think I'll be making up for if I pull off 300 books in a year?

I'm so shocked, horrified, and quite frankly offended, that I haven't even been able to get into a really good angry rant mode . . . and as we all know, I can do a good rant when I get going. I'm tempted to start making daily visits to a bookstore to make up for all the morons out there who haven't darkened the door of one for years. Seriously - years?!?! I make at least one trip a month, even if I don't buy something every time.

I fear for the future of humanity. I've said it often, usually semi-jokingly.

I mean it a lot more now.

P. ost S. cript
I feel like I should feel guilty for posting a video after getting all up on my soapbox and all, but it's not like I have anything against TV or video games in addition to reading. Also: I haven't stopped laughing at the bit at the three-and-a-half minute mark . . . and I first watched it a few days ago. The rest is mildly entertaining, but those ten seconds are quite funny.