I know I have been absent for the last few weeks, and I apologize. Shits been hectic on this island with the move and whatnot. So before I get you all up to speed on this move-in debacle I will start off with a work story, so enjoy.
So the other day I am working with one of my students and we are going over "what to do when you are lost" or "if there is an emergency". So I went over the whole "look for a policeman or an adult if you a lost" thang and call 911 in case there is an emergency at home. So I am not reiterating what I just went through and my student is giving me all the right answers. Awesome I thought. So I continue to say to him "you want to always stay by your dad or Arita (his nanny) because you do not want to get lost". He responds "Yeah because if you get lost you could end up naked in jail". Um what, come again? Did I just hear what I think I just heard? I said, "Ah what did you just say". He responds again "I don't want to get lost because I don't want to be naked in jail". Well, I lost it at that moment. Hysterical laughing with tears. And he is just looking at me with a smile and a facial expression of "I-have-no-idea-why-your-laughing-but-im-just-gonna-smile-because-at-least-your-not-telling-me-to-have-a-quiet-mouth-and-stop-farting". I mean what in gods name did this child's father say to him. Did his father actually tell him that if he were to get lost he could end up in jail naked. I mean who says that to a 14yr old autistic child. He might as well said, "yeah, you get lost and then next thing you know your naked in jail giving hand-jobs to Tyrone your new daddy". I mean for realz!
Ok enough of work. The past two weeks have been filled with packing, re-doing our new place, shopping, and getting my mother stoned. Yes, you read that correctly. My dad, I will call chief, took my younger sister and his mother down to Virginia for a long weekend. My mother took this opportunity to really let her hair down. So my cousins and a friend of mine were having a few drinks at my house before we were going to go to dinner. My mother had plans of her own so she was all dolled up and ready to go. As she was leaving she turns to us and says "If you guys got any pot you better give it up tonight". Really mom? So we go to dinner, the 4 of us and polish off 4 bottles of wine (plus the 2 we drank before we left) and met my mom and her friend at this restaurant bar. Now let me explain something to you, my mother does not drink at all. So basically she was her friends DD. So we show up and she proceeds to buy us a few rounds of drinks and made us listen to this jackass sing cover songs. Finally we were like we cant take this shit anymore, this guy thinks is 1984 and his shitty camaro is still legit. We get home and mommy dearest starts salivating for the ganja like Pavlov's dogs. I roll up a joint and we start smoking. This is when my mom informs us that she "is a two-hit tilly". Which after two hits, she in fact is wrecked. She went from hysterical laughing, to crying to "who wants snack!". Later that not we got my cousin, soon to be roommate, to put my dads uniform pants on. Now my dad is 5'6 220lbs, my cousin is 6'3 320lbs. Oh and then I felt it necessary for him to put on my gold lamay tina turner pants. I actually peed in my pants a little. I would post the pictures but I am afraid my cousin will shave my eyebrows off in the middle of the night, hey payback can be a bitch.
The next night my two cousins, my mother and her sister (my aunt duh) and I went shopping for house stuff and couches. So we all pile in my cousin jeep Cherokee and head to bed bath and beyond and the Christmas tree shop (hey we are on a budget bitch!). So we spend 2hours at these two stores and get a bunch of shit. We all walk to the car and it hits us all at one time. How the fuck are we all going to fit with in this car with packages. I had to sit with a 24piece comforter set in between my legs, my mother had a broom in her temple, my cousin had our cookie sheets on his lap and my cousin had to turn the wheel with one finger. Oh and not to mention we had a ironing board bungeed to the roof of the car. We really thought this one through. It literally looked like a clown car. We were so embarrassed pulling up to Bobs to buy couches we parked as far away from the door as we could.
So the move in countdown is down to single digits. Sunday I send my cousins to target to buy mixing bowls. I should have known they were going to get stoned and do the exact opposite. Instead they decided to go to goodwill and see what they had to offer. It's not like we are poor so I have no idea how they stumbled on a goodwill. These jackasses come back with a sign that says "and they lived happily ever after", one sterling silver candle stick holder, 1,000 push pins, a hideous decorative plate, an African fertility stature, a clock, and a mini lamp. Did I mention they were gone for 2hours. What the fuck are we going to do with an African fertility stature? I should rephrase that, WHERE ARE WE GOING TO PUT AN AFRICAN FERTILITY STATUE. So that's what we are working with folks, African fertility statues and sign that says "and they lived happily ever after".
The house is really coming a long. Thank god for my parents. I would still be standing in my bedroom wondering how to paint. My parents did all the painting, my dad ripped down wallpaper in my bathroom, sheet-rocked, spackled, painted. I literally owe my parents my life with all the help they have given me. My mom keeps buying me everything I need and then tells me "don't tell your father what I am spending, he will kill me". So if my parents ever read this THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!!! But still, call before you come.
And remember kids, be careful and stay close to your parents when in the community. You wouldnt want to get lost; you could end up naked in jail.
Monday, March 30, 2009
Thursday, March 19, 2009
April 1st...
Well folks, its set in stone. I officially have signed a lease and move in day is set for April 1st. Im going to go ahead and do something nice for my loyal followers; I am going paint a picture of what my next year is going to look like.
Ok everyone close your eyes and picture it:
Cousin #1:
Cousin #1 is a chubby (im being polite because I know he is going to read this) bald Italian who owns a waste management company (no we are not in the mob, or at least I dont think we are). He enjoys french dips at 8am, drinks coors light by the gallons, like to dabble in the reefer, red wine makes him red and sweaty and has been known to be coaxed into a dress from time to time. Oh did I mention he tends to pass out drunk and we write on him? Besides his best qualities, I love him like a brother. He is one of the most loyal people I know and he would scissor kick any boy that has wronged me. My custicle, as I call him, is also very neat and clean. I cannot wait for him to go away for the weekend and rearrange his bedroom and all his mack truck figurines. He has also tried to mouth kiss one of my best friends numerous times, and every time he attempts, she replies "That is not acceptable". Needless to say, custicle #1 is a bad mamajama.
Cousin #2:
Ahh where do I begin. He has been mistaken for an Arab on an airplane because he was so tan and had a full beard with aviators. I have to admit this was post-911 so it is what it is. He has fucked 90% of my friends and has saved my life when I was 4 years old. He is a stoned 99% of the day and has done more drugs then I can even begin to think of. For example; on lease-signing-day, he was so stoned, even his mother (our realtor) called him, and I quote, "A stupid-fucking-stoned-asshole". He is the messiest kid I know and smokes 3 packs of camel lights a day. He has been known to throw on my 7 sizes to small high heels and step-bump his way down the dance floor. Oh did I mention he saw central booking? When ever he is chatting it up with a girl he has his eye on at the bar, I walk over...he introduces me and I immediately tell this little side dish he is gay...he then proceeds to go along with it. Now that is family.
Me: Well, I drink way to much. I do the worm, sing karaoke and curse at inappropriate times. My anxiety level is always at a 10. I live on xananx and Tylenol pm. I am very neurotic about cleanliness and Im pretty sure I will get burned on by our fireplace at some point. I have already been in charge of sending the checks out for our bills. We have decided to have a joint checking account as to which to send our bills out. I am pretty sure everyone at the bank thinks my two cousins are lovers and I am pregnant with their love child. I'm cool with that, I mean how funny is that. I wonder who the guy thinks is the bottom and who is the top?!?!
So as I was saying April 1st is move in day. We are taking all donations of kitchen supplies, painters, carpet cleaners, house cleaners, and landscapers. My cousins will get you high or I am willing to give hand jobs for free kitchen utensils. You decide. So please, wish us luck. Our parents are all against us doing this, apparently they think we have down syndrome and cannot survive without them telling us to clean our rooms or put our laundry away. Oh and our parties are going to be off the hoooook. Already have an 80s party planned for my bday in may. YEAHHHH
Our place what what!
Ok everyone close your eyes and picture it:
Cousin #1:
Cousin #1 is a chubby (im being polite because I know he is going to read this) bald Italian who owns a waste management company (no we are not in the mob, or at least I dont think we are). He enjoys french dips at 8am, drinks coors light by the gallons, like to dabble in the reefer, red wine makes him red and sweaty and has been known to be coaxed into a dress from time to time. Oh did I mention he tends to pass out drunk and we write on him? Besides his best qualities, I love him like a brother. He is one of the most loyal people I know and he would scissor kick any boy that has wronged me. My custicle, as I call him, is also very neat and clean. I cannot wait for him to go away for the weekend and rearrange his bedroom and all his mack truck figurines. He has also tried to mouth kiss one of my best friends numerous times, and every time he attempts, she replies "That is not acceptable". Needless to say, custicle #1 is a bad mamajama.
Cousin #2:
Ahh where do I begin. He has been mistaken for an Arab on an airplane because he was so tan and had a full beard with aviators. I have to admit this was post-911 so it is what it is. He has fucked 90% of my friends and has saved my life when I was 4 years old. He is a stoned 99% of the day and has done more drugs then I can even begin to think of. For example; on lease-signing-day, he was so stoned, even his mother (our realtor) called him, and I quote, "A stupid-fucking-stoned-asshole". He is the messiest kid I know and smokes 3 packs of camel lights a day. He has been known to throw on my 7 sizes to small high heels and step-bump his way down the dance floor. Oh did I mention he saw central booking? When ever he is chatting it up with a girl he has his eye on at the bar, I walk over...he introduces me and I immediately tell this little side dish he is gay...he then proceeds to go along with it. Now that is family.
Me: Well, I drink way to much. I do the worm, sing karaoke and curse at inappropriate times. My anxiety level is always at a 10. I live on xananx and Tylenol pm. I am very neurotic about cleanliness and Im pretty sure I will get burned on by our fireplace at some point. I have already been in charge of sending the checks out for our bills. We have decided to have a joint checking account as to which to send our bills out. I am pretty sure everyone at the bank thinks my two cousins are lovers and I am pregnant with their love child. I'm cool with that, I mean how funny is that. I wonder who the guy thinks is the bottom and who is the top?!?!
So as I was saying April 1st is move in day. We are taking all donations of kitchen supplies, painters, carpet cleaners, house cleaners, and landscapers. My cousins will get you high or I am willing to give hand jobs for free kitchen utensils. You decide. So please, wish us luck. Our parents are all against us doing this, apparently they think we have down syndrome and cannot survive without them telling us to clean our rooms or put our laundry away. Oh and our parties are going to be off the hoooook. Already have an 80s party planned for my bday in may. YEAHHHH
Our place what what!
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Dear Only Male Coworker....
Dear Only Male Co-worker:
Hi, its me room 21, across the hall from you. Listen I know it must be tough working with all woman and then going home to a wife who makes more than you. I know it must really scull-fuck your manhood. There are a few issues I have with you and feel that you need to be made aware of them so you can better yourself in your future with working with woman.
1. When you use the only staff bathroom, it is really uncool to leave the seat up, piss on the floor/seat and leave pubes all around the seat. It really is not a pretty sight to see. Is it that hard to get your pee into the toilet and trim your ball hair? I mean 45% of our students can get their pee in the toilet, so why cant you? And are you ripping your pubes off and laying them on the seat on purpose? If so, would you like to talk about?
2. When exiting the bathroom, lets remember to check our zipper. I am sick of talking to you and starring at your dick because your fly is open. Its not that I am interested in you whatsoever, but when I see someones fly open, its all I can look at.
3. Close-talking is not acceptable. Yes it was funny in the Seinfeld episode, but in real life it is scary and I dont like you spitting on me. So please back that ass up when speaking with me.
4. When in a discussion, whether it be a teacher planning meeting or just casual conversation you do not need to throw in the tidbit of how you go to the gym everyday. We got it the first time you told us. I, unlike our students, have a functioning memory. It is not necessary to keep reminding us that you like to pump iron. Your one-size-smaller-than-it-needs-to-be-shirt is evidence enough that you are able to make it to the gym.
5. We need to remember to hydrate. When we have lack of hydration...white shit collects on the corners of your mouth. It is really nast and once again, my eyes are drawn to it. So no I am not starring at you in admiration. NO Im starring that the crust that has formed in the corners of your mouth as if you were a rabid dog foaming at the mouth. Please take care of this.
I know that I may have been harsh with you and I am sorry for that. However I we really need to take care of these issues. If you need help in any areas, please do not hesitate to ask for my help.
Sincerly,
The only cool, young and beautifal teacher at your place of employment
Hi, its me room 21, across the hall from you. Listen I know it must be tough working with all woman and then going home to a wife who makes more than you. I know it must really scull-fuck your manhood. There are a few issues I have with you and feel that you need to be made aware of them so you can better yourself in your future with working with woman.
1. When you use the only staff bathroom, it is really uncool to leave the seat up, piss on the floor/seat and leave pubes all around the seat. It really is not a pretty sight to see. Is it that hard to get your pee into the toilet and trim your ball hair? I mean 45% of our students can get their pee in the toilet, so why cant you? And are you ripping your pubes off and laying them on the seat on purpose? If so, would you like to talk about?
2. When exiting the bathroom, lets remember to check our zipper. I am sick of talking to you and starring at your dick because your fly is open. Its not that I am interested in you whatsoever, but when I see someones fly open, its all I can look at.
3. Close-talking is not acceptable. Yes it was funny in the Seinfeld episode, but in real life it is scary and I dont like you spitting on me. So please back that ass up when speaking with me.
4. When in a discussion, whether it be a teacher planning meeting or just casual conversation you do not need to throw in the tidbit of how you go to the gym everyday. We got it the first time you told us. I, unlike our students, have a functioning memory. It is not necessary to keep reminding us that you like to pump iron. Your one-size-smaller-than-it-needs-to-be-shirt is evidence enough that you are able to make it to the gym.
5. We need to remember to hydrate. When we have lack of hydration...white shit collects on the corners of your mouth. It is really nast and once again, my eyes are drawn to it. So no I am not starring at you in admiration. NO Im starring that the crust that has formed in the corners of your mouth as if you were a rabid dog foaming at the mouth. Please take care of this.
I know that I may have been harsh with you and I am sorry for that. However I we really need to take care of these issues. If you need help in any areas, please do not hesitate to ask for my help.
Sincerly,
The only cool, young and beautifal teacher at your place of employment
Ohhh Haaayyyy
Like I mentioned a few posts before this, I am new to this whole thing. But I guess there is a ritual of giving out blog awards. Well my redheaded friend at Sassy Little Ginger has given me the creative awards:
Well there are rules to receiving this shout out, and here they are:
List 7 things that you love, and then pass the award on to 7 bloggers that you love!Be sure to tag them and let them know that they have won. You can copy the picture of the award and paste it on your sideboard letting the whole world know...you are Kreativ.
So here goes:
1. BCBG
2. Organic Crunchy Peanut Butter
3. Pear Vodka/Sangria/Red Wine/Pomegranate Martinis ( I didn't want to list these separate on account of you all thinkin' I be having a drinking problem
4. My IPOD
5. Tina Turner
6. My family
7. Spring time
I am giving this award to:
Tudor City Girl
Live It, Love It
Chaotic Stability
A Daily Dose of Dani
Can I just say...
Working Girl
Just Playing Pretend
Well there are rules to receiving this shout out, and here they are:
List 7 things that you love, and then pass the award on to 7 bloggers that you love!Be sure to tag them and let them know that they have won. You can copy the picture of the award and paste it on your sideboard letting the whole world know...you are Kreativ.
So here goes:
1. BCBG
2. Organic Crunchy Peanut Butter
3. Pear Vodka/Sangria/Red Wine/Pomegranate Martinis ( I didn't want to list these separate on account of you all thinkin' I be having a drinking problem
4. My IPOD
5. Tina Turner
6. My family
7. Spring time
I am giving this award to:
Tudor City Girl
Live It, Love It
Chaotic Stability
A Daily Dose of Dani
Can I just say...
Working Girl
Just Playing Pretend
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
Picture Day and the Delusional Supervisor
When my alarm went off today at the normal 6:40 am, I did something I never do...I hit snooze...three times. You have to understand something about me. I am extremely anal when it comes to being on time and keeping to schedules. So for me to hit snooze, three times is a big thang for me. I was delaying the inevitable; picture day. For most teachers this is an easy day. Not so for the special education world. This once a year change in routine can prove to be disastrous. When I finally dragged my groggy ass (i am addicted to tylenol pm) out of bed I went about my normal routine. Made coffee, lunch and breakfast then hopped in the shower. I was running a few minutes behind schedule but shrugged it off. When I pulled into the parking lot I realized that my one assistant was going to be out. FUCK! The people they send for substitutes are usually worse than having another student. I tried to calm myself down and hoped I would get one of the very few substitutes they have available. I walked in the office and saw the absentee board...FUCK, again. The substitute that was assigned to my class is, and I am pretty sure of this, mentally challenged. No, literally, I think she was either dropped on her head as a infant or her mother did massive amounts of heroin while she was int he womb. So this is what I have working for me at 8:15 am...a retarded substitute and picture day. Awesome.
I got to my classroom and got right down to business, trying to push the fact that today had a recipe for disaster. My other assistant showed up, late as usual. She is pregnant so I give her some slack. It was now 9am, students were arriving. No sign of the substitute. "God, are you there...its me, Jen. It would be really cool if that sub didn't show up today." No sooner did I speak to God, did my supervisor explain to me the sub was trying to find parking and would be here momentarily. Awesome, thanks God...I owe you one. The students began trickling in, their outfits, which I was worried about as well, were actually pretty normal. But then he came in. My student who is the youngest of 13 children. I assume his mother his pretty exhausted after giving birth to 13 children to give a fuck what this kid wears to school. From what I am told he dresses himself. Now when I tell you he dresses himself this is what I mean: He usually has on his mothers leopard silk underwear, pajama pants and a pair of jeans. On top he has on usually a baby doll t-shirt with four other shirts and then a sweatshirt. Oh and sometimes, for added flair, a handkerchief around his neck. I guess he is in some kind of autistic gang I don't know about. So anywho, he walks in with this godforsaken outfit. I quickly stripped him down to one of the shirts that were a little more age appropriate and attempted to comb his hair. I battled that hair, I fought it with all the strength of my wrist...but it still stood straight up. One of the many battles I would lose today. Fast forward, my classes name is called over the walkie-talkie (yes we have walkie-talkies) "Room 21 pictures in 5 min". So we wait the 5 minutes and we walk down. We are asked to wait in line (which is very excruciating for regular students, let alone autistic students). I can tell my student is getting upset so I start giving him squeezes. He loves it, he is giggling, laughing and asking for more squeezes. Finally, what felt like 4857 hours, we were lead into the room where the pictures would be taken. We all sit down in a row and the student, I will call him Jaws, began to get upset. So for the class picture I stood behind him and kept giving him squeezes. He calmed down for 32 seconds. We decided to let Jaws get his pictures taken first because, as it just so happens he was going to the doctor to, as my father likes to call it "get a check-up, from the neck up". So we took him straight to the area designated for the personal photos. This is where my day went downhill. I guess he wasn't down with the flashing of the bulbs and he flipped a shit. He jumped out of the chair and ran at me. Pinching and head-butting me. Now this child is not little 12 year old. He is about 180 lbs and taller than me. I finally get him into the hallway and he FUCKING LOOSES IT. I mean looses it. He goes after me and we both fall to the ground, I quickly scramble and attempt to get him into a restraint. Well since I dont have the "retard" strength my students do he flipped me over and bit my arm. He chomped down. As this is all going down, my supervisor, Principal and coordinator are all watching. Finally my supervisor sees he is latched down on my arm she grabs his arm. I follow protocol: push arm into bite and pinch students nose. This causes the student to not be able to breathe which then makes the student let go for the the bite. Well this only made him madder and bite down harder. FINALLY he let go and I was able to grab his arms and start squeezing to calm him down. I looked up at my principal and said "Oh I just love picture day". Do you know what she did, she motioned for me to "shut the fuck up" by putting her index finger over her mouth. She gave me the international "quiet mouth" sign. I think my blood-pressure rose to 456.
So we calm him down and 20 min later his grandma is there to pick him up. Thank god, smell ya later Jaws. But my day didn't end there. Now I had to deal with this incompetent sub. My other assistant is a strict christian and doesn't talk shit on anyone. All she kept saying to me was "your doing a good job jen". If my other assistant was there we would have been dropping more f-bombs than we dropped bombs over Baghdad (sing it with me...bombs over baghdadddddd). I was able to make it through the day without strangling this woman, I was very proud of myself to say the least. At 2:30 I was reminded of a teacher planning meeting we had. I am usually not happy for these meetings because they are boring and pointless. This time I jumped at the idea to get out of my classroom 30 min early and just shit there in a vegetative state. When we all finally arrived at the meeting my supervisor starts with this "I have some exciting news! I ordered recorders for the kids and I have chosen 5 kids I feel would be able to learn how to play them!". REALLY, the fucking recorder. I just started hysterical laughing. My supervisor gave me a look like "wtf is wrong with you?". I wanted to shake her and say, "Shouldn't we be teaching them how to write their fucking name! I cant even play the fucking recorder! I am a 4th grade band drop-out!".
So that is how my day was. I have a nice indentation of my students mouth on my inside forearm. I should make a mold out of it for his dental records. And at some point between now and June I will be teaching my student to play the recorder. FUCK MY LIFE!
I got to my classroom and got right down to business, trying to push the fact that today had a recipe for disaster. My other assistant showed up, late as usual. She is pregnant so I give her some slack. It was now 9am, students were arriving. No sign of the substitute. "God, are you there...its me, Jen. It would be really cool if that sub didn't show up today." No sooner did I speak to God, did my supervisor explain to me the sub was trying to find parking and would be here momentarily. Awesome, thanks God...I owe you one. The students began trickling in, their outfits, which I was worried about as well, were actually pretty normal. But then he came in. My student who is the youngest of 13 children. I assume his mother his pretty exhausted after giving birth to 13 children to give a fuck what this kid wears to school. From what I am told he dresses himself. Now when I tell you he dresses himself this is what I mean: He usually has on his mothers leopard silk underwear, pajama pants and a pair of jeans. On top he has on usually a baby doll t-shirt with four other shirts and then a sweatshirt. Oh and sometimes, for added flair, a handkerchief around his neck. I guess he is in some kind of autistic gang I don't know about. So anywho, he walks in with this godforsaken outfit. I quickly stripped him down to one of the shirts that were a little more age appropriate and attempted to comb his hair. I battled that hair, I fought it with all the strength of my wrist...but it still stood straight up. One of the many battles I would lose today. Fast forward, my classes name is called over the walkie-talkie (yes we have walkie-talkies) "Room 21 pictures in 5 min". So we wait the 5 minutes and we walk down. We are asked to wait in line (which is very excruciating for regular students, let alone autistic students). I can tell my student is getting upset so I start giving him squeezes. He loves it, he is giggling, laughing and asking for more squeezes. Finally, what felt like 4857 hours, we were lead into the room where the pictures would be taken. We all sit down in a row and the student, I will call him Jaws, began to get upset. So for the class picture I stood behind him and kept giving him squeezes. He calmed down for 32 seconds. We decided to let Jaws get his pictures taken first because, as it just so happens he was going to the doctor to, as my father likes to call it "get a check-up, from the neck up". So we took him straight to the area designated for the personal photos. This is where my day went downhill. I guess he wasn't down with the flashing of the bulbs and he flipped a shit. He jumped out of the chair and ran at me. Pinching and head-butting me. Now this child is not little 12 year old. He is about 180 lbs and taller than me. I finally get him into the hallway and he FUCKING LOOSES IT. I mean looses it. He goes after me and we both fall to the ground, I quickly scramble and attempt to get him into a restraint. Well since I dont have the "retard" strength my students do he flipped me over and bit my arm. He chomped down. As this is all going down, my supervisor, Principal and coordinator are all watching. Finally my supervisor sees he is latched down on my arm she grabs his arm. I follow protocol: push arm into bite and pinch students nose. This causes the student to not be able to breathe which then makes the student let go for the the bite. Well this only made him madder and bite down harder. FINALLY he let go and I was able to grab his arms and start squeezing to calm him down. I looked up at my principal and said "Oh I just love picture day". Do you know what she did, she motioned for me to "shut the fuck up" by putting her index finger over her mouth. She gave me the international "quiet mouth" sign. I think my blood-pressure rose to 456.
So we calm him down and 20 min later his grandma is there to pick him up. Thank god, smell ya later Jaws. But my day didn't end there. Now I had to deal with this incompetent sub. My other assistant is a strict christian and doesn't talk shit on anyone. All she kept saying to me was "your doing a good job jen". If my other assistant was there we would have been dropping more f-bombs than we dropped bombs over Baghdad (sing it with me...bombs over baghdadddddd). I was able to make it through the day without strangling this woman, I was very proud of myself to say the least. At 2:30 I was reminded of a teacher planning meeting we had. I am usually not happy for these meetings because they are boring and pointless. This time I jumped at the idea to get out of my classroom 30 min early and just shit there in a vegetative state. When we all finally arrived at the meeting my supervisor starts with this "I have some exciting news! I ordered recorders for the kids and I have chosen 5 kids I feel would be able to learn how to play them!". REALLY, the fucking recorder. I just started hysterical laughing. My supervisor gave me a look like "wtf is wrong with you?". I wanted to shake her and say, "Shouldn't we be teaching them how to write their fucking name! I cant even play the fucking recorder! I am a 4th grade band drop-out!".
So that is how my day was. I have a nice indentation of my students mouth on my inside forearm. I should make a mold out of it for his dental records. And at some point between now and June I will be teaching my student to play the recorder. FUCK MY LIFE!
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
The end of an era...the begining of a new one
Its a sad and happy day today my friends. About 4 years ago my two friends were the only ones with respectable jobs making a descent pay to actually move out of the constraints of their parents. I was super excited because this meant I would have a place to crash on the weekends, and not to mention it was in the city! So for 4 years they have allowed me to run train on their apartment pretty much anytime I wanted to. I even had my own key. I would crash on the futon in a drunken haze and wake up the next morning still in my clothes from the bar. A few months ago our friend moved into the place with them, making the already small apartment even smaller. They turned the livin room into a bedroom which only left the kitchen for my air mattress. It was not only I that benefited from their digs, a few of my cousins made many appearances, sleeping in the kitchen or when they were lucky, with one of my friends. So its now 2009 and everyone has decided to move on, time to get-to-steppin'. One friend has moved in with her boyfriend, the other back to prison (aka her parents house) and the third to her own little place on the upper west side of Manhattan. My cousin new it would be the last time he would be able to, in fact "run train" on the their place. I am not sure when he decided it, but he decided to go out with a bang.
Saturday night we were invited to an asian themed party. My cousin and I drove into the city and went to dinner with my friend whose place we would be staying at. We had dinner and a few drinks and went back to the Mexican crack den to pre-game. As we all sat in a circle on the kitchen floor (the one roommate took the kitchen table and chairs) drinking pear vodka we all got a little sad discussing how much fun we had in that little place. The red-wine stained walls told many stories of laughter and drunken times. As the bottle of vodka was quickly dwindling we decided to make the 10-block trek south to our friends party. As soon as we entered the door we were greeted with SAKI-BOMBS. I have to say, I am not sure if I have ever been greeted better, the only thing that was missing was a massage and a happy ending. So we did a few saki bombs and moved our little group outside to smoke a few butts and get some air. The night was awesome, perfect weather and friends. This is when the real shenanigans began. The "Dirty Dancing" lift my cousin and I are so famous for was done, pinching of Asian nipples, and my friend and cousin convincing the party-goers that he had just proposed to her. Being the Irish mick that she is, she turned her clatter ring around and had the whole party believe her and my cousin were engaged. It was at this point some yelled "Lets go sing karaoke!". Of course, why not...it was an Asian themed party and why not end the night with karaoke. The karaoke night is a little bit hazy, but from what we are told my cousin and I sang three duets and rocked the crows, per-usual. It was now 3 am and we had no money left so we decided to head back to the apartment. Within 30 minutes my cousin was passed out, shirt up over his head half on the air mattress half off. My friend and I looked at each other and had the same exact thought, "Why haven't we started drawing on him yet". We giggled and my friend ran into her room and got her entire make-up bag. We put eye-shadow on him, eye-liner, lipstick. It didn't end their. Why not write "I love cock" "I love dick", huge penis' all over his bald head and arms. We were laughing so hard tears were coming out of our eyes. Why stop there we thought, why not put anything we could find on top of him. These items included: A dress, shoes, dresses, a 5ft lamp, beads, and a hat. We also felt it necessary to document this with many pictures.
I was awoken the next morning by this "You guys suck! What did you do to me! Oh shit you even did the inside of my ears!". It was at this moment my dear cousin realized he had really went out with a bang, spending his last night in at that apartment tattooed with dicks on his face. Thank god he was a good sport about it. I am pretty sure he was happy we didn't use the sharpie...what we would have used if we were in college...but we aren't so we used eyeliner. Its funny, we are all in our late 20's and still find it absolutely hysterical to write on someone when they pass out drunk. I don't think this will ever get old for me, well maybe when its my son or order who comes home with a dick drawn on their chin. But for now I will never miss the opportunity to write on someone who blatantly deserves it for passing out with their shoes on.
Saturday night we were invited to an asian themed party. My cousin and I drove into the city and went to dinner with my friend whose place we would be staying at. We had dinner and a few drinks and went back to the Mexican crack den to pre-game. As we all sat in a circle on the kitchen floor (the one roommate took the kitchen table and chairs) drinking pear vodka we all got a little sad discussing how much fun we had in that little place. The red-wine stained walls told many stories of laughter and drunken times. As the bottle of vodka was quickly dwindling we decided to make the 10-block trek south to our friends party. As soon as we entered the door we were greeted with SAKI-BOMBS. I have to say, I am not sure if I have ever been greeted better, the only thing that was missing was a massage and a happy ending. So we did a few saki bombs and moved our little group outside to smoke a few butts and get some air. The night was awesome, perfect weather and friends. This is when the real shenanigans began. The "Dirty Dancing" lift my cousin and I are so famous for was done, pinching of Asian nipples, and my friend and cousin convincing the party-goers that he had just proposed to her. Being the Irish mick that she is, she turned her clatter ring around and had the whole party believe her and my cousin were engaged. It was at this point some yelled "Lets go sing karaoke!". Of course, why not...it was an Asian themed party and why not end the night with karaoke. The karaoke night is a little bit hazy, but from what we are told my cousin and I sang three duets and rocked the crows, per-usual. It was now 3 am and we had no money left so we decided to head back to the apartment. Within 30 minutes my cousin was passed out, shirt up over his head half on the air mattress half off. My friend and I looked at each other and had the same exact thought, "Why haven't we started drawing on him yet". We giggled and my friend ran into her room and got her entire make-up bag. We put eye-shadow on him, eye-liner, lipstick. It didn't end their. Why not write "I love cock" "I love dick", huge penis' all over his bald head and arms. We were laughing so hard tears were coming out of our eyes. Why stop there we thought, why not put anything we could find on top of him. These items included: A dress, shoes, dresses, a 5ft lamp, beads, and a hat. We also felt it necessary to document this with many pictures.
I was awoken the next morning by this "You guys suck! What did you do to me! Oh shit you even did the inside of my ears!". It was at this moment my dear cousin realized he had really went out with a bang, spending his last night in at that apartment tattooed with dicks on his face. Thank god he was a good sport about it. I am pretty sure he was happy we didn't use the sharpie...what we would have used if we were in college...but we aren't so we used eyeliner. Its funny, we are all in our late 20's and still find it absolutely hysterical to write on someone when they pass out drunk. I don't think this will ever get old for me, well maybe when its my son or order who comes home with a dick drawn on their chin. But for now I will never miss the opportunity to write on someone who blatantly deserves it for passing out with their shoes on.
Sad is it may be to be leaving that little apartment on the upper-east-side, it also brings a happyness. My two cousins and I just signed a lease for our own house. The setting will change but the shennanigans wont. Our new place will soon echo with the laughter, booze and music that defines my friends and I. I look foward to the memories that will be shared and the dicks that will be drawn. So CONGRATS TO US! And for your viewing pleasure, my cousin in all his glory.
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
I can handle Puke...
I think this may be the only time I ever wished I had Jenna Jameson's gag reflexes. I can handle puke, I have been holding my friends hair back since 97'...hell I have even cleaned up my friends/cousins booze filled puke. I've held my students head in garbage cans while they puked. Puke I can do, its shit I cannot deal with. This past year I have had to deal with more shit-infested pants then I have had to in all the years I have been teaching.
Example 1: My first day at my new school. Not familiar with any of my students whatsoever. Student comes off the tard bus with a shit-eating grin...literally. I was so happy that the one student I was warned about was so happy and giggling on his first day that I thought to myself, "what are these people talking about, this is going to be a breeze". I should have checked myself before I wrecked myself. No sooner did I say that to myself that I smelled a funky ass smell coming from this happy autistic child. He shit his pants...im not talking about little dingle berries. I am talking about full on i just ate burger-king-shit-after-binge-drinking-shit. You know the type of load I am talking about. So we went through the whole "where do we do poopies" schpeel. I told him to pull down his pants and sit on the toilet. As soon as I actually saw what I was working with I started gagging like a high school cheerleader giving her first BJ. It didn't help that another student in another class had shit his pants as well. You will never guess what happened next, HE TOOK A LITTLE BIT ON HIS FINGER AND ATE IT!!!! I was dumbfounded. How that be his first reaction. What the fuck was he thinking, like hmmm this smells horrible but I bet it tastes good!!! So now picture this if you will, I am trying to clean my 230lb 12yr olds ass, all while hysterical laughing, puking and crying at the same time. We then brushed his teeth and clumps, literally clumps of shit was sticking to the toothbrush. Yep I vomited again. Little did I know that this was going to be an every Monday occurrence. Ohhh
Example 2: Now I always feel sorry when a parent sends their student in sick. I understand that it is a pain in the ass to have your child stay home, but have a little courtesy for the staff members that are going to have to deal with this child all day; or AT LEAST give a little fair warning. This student in particular has gas issues. So when he said "Ohhh I farrrrrtttteeeeddd" I didn't think anything of it and responded for the 94856409568 time "that is bathroom stuff, either go in the hall or go to the bathroom if you have to do that". Seconds later I heard "Ooohhhfarrrrtttteeeeddd". I just happened to be standing near this particular student and noticed his rear was wet. We marched down to the bathroom and to my surprise he had diarrhea in his undies. Good thing I am a veteran teacher and demand each parent send in at least two pairs of underwear and changes of clothes. This poor kid sat on the toilet and I shit his brains out. I mean SHIT his brains out. It was horrible, I felt so bad but yet again I was vomiting in the garbage can with rubber gloves smeared with shit. So we cleaned him up and called his dad to come get him. Not 4 minutes later the kid shit his pants AGAIN. I am taking drip down your leg diarrhea. It was at that moment that I wished we had a hose so I could hose his ass down outside. It was all over his shoes, toilet, floor, etc. So as my assistant and I tried cleaning up I was yet again vomiting my brains out. I begged my supervisor to just let him sit on the toilet until his father arrived with an Imodium and to take him the hell out of here. Well my supervisor, the smart one she is, told me to change him and send him to art. He literally walked into the art room and shit again. And once again I was vomiting. I didn't eat for two days after that...sweet diet plan huh.
Example 3 (I promise its my last one): Today I had to tutor my student I see 3 days a week. Wed are home days where we work on showering, hygiene, food prep, etc. So we he did everything nicely and we sat down to do a puzzle. Oh did I mention he only speaks Hebrew and the housekeeper only speaks Spanish and Hebrew...I only speak English, so you can imagine the clusterfuck of commotion that goes on. So my student is being so sweet, hugging me, kissing me and doing his work like a good little boy. Then it happens, he farts. I yell go to the bathroom. He stands up, looks at me and smiles and shits his pants. This little fucker had the nerve to stop what he was doing, give me a little "IM going to ruin your day because I am shitting my pants look" and let it rip. I somehow manage to get him into the bathroom to actually see the damage his ass had created. A while pile of diarrhea mud in his pants. My face was literally inches from it as he sat on the toilet and I tried to get at least his pants off. Can you guess what happened next? My eyes started to water and I started to gag. And I puked up the entire coffee I had just downed like it was my last hit of meth. So that is how my workday ended today. It gives new meaning to the saying "I had such a shitty day at work today...", because I literally had a shitty day at work today.
So the next time you want to bitch about how your job sucks, wahhh I am stuck in an office all day wahhh wahh. At least your co workers do not shit themselves and you are forced to clean it up. I apologize for how graphic this post was, but deal with it...at least you didn't deal with it first hand!
lucky me. I
Example 1: My first day at my new school. Not familiar with any of my students whatsoever. Student comes off the tard bus with a shit-eating grin...literally. I was so happy that the one student I was warned about was so happy and giggling on his first day that I thought to myself, "what are these people talking about, this is going to be a breeze". I should have checked myself before I wrecked myself. No sooner did I say that to myself that I smelled a funky ass smell coming from this happy autistic child. He shit his pants...im not talking about little dingle berries. I am talking about full on i just ate burger-king-shit-after-binge-drinking-shit. You know the type of load I am talking about. So we went through the whole "where do we do poopies" schpeel. I told him to pull down his pants and sit on the toilet. As soon as I actually saw what I was working with I started gagging like a high school cheerleader giving her first BJ. It didn't help that another student in another class had shit his pants as well. You will never guess what happened next, HE TOOK A LITTLE BIT ON HIS FINGER AND ATE IT!!!! I was dumbfounded. How that be his first reaction. What the fuck was he thinking, like hmmm this smells horrible but I bet it tastes good!!! So now picture this if you will, I am trying to clean my 230lb 12yr olds ass, all while hysterical laughing, puking and crying at the same time. We then brushed his teeth and clumps, literally clumps of shit was sticking to the toothbrush. Yep I vomited again. Little did I know that this was going to be an every Monday occurrence. Ohhh
Example 2: Now I always feel sorry when a parent sends their student in sick. I understand that it is a pain in the ass to have your child stay home, but have a little courtesy for the staff members that are going to have to deal with this child all day; or AT LEAST give a little fair warning. This student in particular has gas issues. So when he said "Ohhh I farrrrrtttteeeeddd" I didn't think anything of it and responded for the 94856409568 time "that is bathroom stuff, either go in the hall or go to the bathroom if you have to do that". Seconds later I heard "Ooohhhfarrrrtttteeeeddd". I just happened to be standing near this particular student and noticed his rear was wet. We marched down to the bathroom and to my surprise he had diarrhea in his undies. Good thing I am a veteran teacher and demand each parent send in at least two pairs of underwear and changes of clothes. This poor kid sat on the toilet and I shit his brains out. I mean SHIT his brains out. It was horrible, I felt so bad but yet again I was vomiting in the garbage can with rubber gloves smeared with shit. So we cleaned him up and called his dad to come get him. Not 4 minutes later the kid shit his pants AGAIN. I am taking drip down your leg diarrhea. It was at that moment that I wished we had a hose so I could hose his ass down outside. It was all over his shoes, toilet, floor, etc. So as my assistant and I tried cleaning up I was yet again vomiting my brains out. I begged my supervisor to just let him sit on the toilet until his father arrived with an Imodium and to take him the hell out of here. Well my supervisor, the smart one she is, told me to change him and send him to art. He literally walked into the art room and shit again. And once again I was vomiting. I didn't eat for two days after that...sweet diet plan huh.
Example 3 (I promise its my last one): Today I had to tutor my student I see 3 days a week. Wed are home days where we work on showering, hygiene, food prep, etc. So we he did everything nicely and we sat down to do a puzzle. Oh did I mention he only speaks Hebrew and the housekeeper only speaks Spanish and Hebrew...I only speak English, so you can imagine the clusterfuck of commotion that goes on. So my student is being so sweet, hugging me, kissing me and doing his work like a good little boy. Then it happens, he farts. I yell go to the bathroom. He stands up, looks at me and smiles and shits his pants. This little fucker had the nerve to stop what he was doing, give me a little "IM going to ruin your day because I am shitting my pants look" and let it rip. I somehow manage to get him into the bathroom to actually see the damage his ass had created. A while pile of diarrhea mud in his pants. My face was literally inches from it as he sat on the toilet and I tried to get at least his pants off. Can you guess what happened next? My eyes started to water and I started to gag. And I puked up the entire coffee I had just downed like it was my last hit of meth. So that is how my workday ended today. It gives new meaning to the saying "I had such a shitty day at work today...", because I literally had a shitty day at work today.
So the next time you want to bitch about how your job sucks, wahhh I am stuck in an office all day wahhh wahh. At least your co workers do not shit themselves and you are forced to clean it up. I apologize for how graphic this post was, but deal with it...at least you didn't deal with it first hand!
lucky me. I
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
I am not JEWISH
Like I said my blog will not always be about my work. Sometimes it will be about how much the man is tryin' to bring me down. Two things, I am not jewish and why do men continue to act as children. To my first statement, for some odd reason many people seem to think I am jewish. Now do not get me wrong, I do not have anything against the jews. I rather enjoy their holidays that get me off of work. However, I take great pride in my Italian heritage. Just because I have curly dark hair and light eyes does not signify I am a jew. I cannot tell you how many dates I have been on that have said "Wait your not Jewish?" or how many times my students parents wish me a happy holiday around Rosha Hananah (Spelling?). So this is now a running joke with my family and friends. They insist on calling me a jew and making jew jokes as if I am going to get offended. The last time I checked my last name ended with a vowel and I put all sorts of food on one plate. I have a long time friend that actually thought I was jewish because I would joke about me being a Jew. It did not occur to her that I wasnt jewish until this xmas. In conversation about the how huge xmas eve celebreation is in my family once again I was faced with "Wait your not Jewish?". So to clear the air, I am not jewish...you all better check yourself before you wreck yo'self...ya heard!
Now to statement #2. Why is it men who are of the settleing down age, insist on acting as if they are 15? I had been dating a guy for the past 3 months. We met at a classy town bar the night before thanksgiving eve. We hit it off right away so I took him to my friends parents house (who happened to be on vacation) and gave him a little-hows-your-father if you will. I didnt think anything of it but he actually called me the next day. So we began dating, he spent xmas even and xmas with my family, spent weekends together and my cousins actually liked him. Things were going great, or so I thought. Then out of the clear blue, bam he stops talking to me. So now I start thinking to myself, what is wrong with me? Am I ugly and he found some little mamacita that was thinner, prettier and would give him hand jobs before he drops her off from a nice date? I mean what the f! When I finally confornted him and asked him WTF mate? Well, of course it was MY FAULT. He was mad at ME because I asked why he didnt contact me at all. I knew he had a lot on his plate with studying for his midterms (he is getting his MBA) and work. Hey we all have our shit, shits hectic on this island these days. I totally understand so I gave him some space. So when I first brought it up he brushed me off. What I dont understand is, with all this technology (i.e. text/email/facebook) you couldnt drop me a little text saying "sorry havent gotten to you in awhile, shits been real crazy with work and school". I would have totally understood. But to literally drop off the face of the earth is just not cool man, not cool. When is it men are going to grow up and start acting their age. I mean this guy was going to be 32 and treated this little situation as if he was in high school. I was waiting for someone to slip me a note in homeroom informing me that, we will call him Le'Douche, was in fact giving me the axe. Is it tht hard to just be honest with people and up front. I have never been one of those needy girls that demands 100% attention. I hate talking on the phone and I do not believe in spending every second with the one your dating. But would it kill you to send me a text letting me know you were alive? Ladies, am I wrong here? When are men going to suck it up and be a man? Am I the only one out there who seems to date every douche bag in the surrounding area? Thoughts/feelngs?
Now to statement #2. Why is it men who are of the settleing down age, insist on acting as if they are 15? I had been dating a guy for the past 3 months. We met at a classy town bar the night before thanksgiving eve. We hit it off right away so I took him to my friends parents house (who happened to be on vacation) and gave him a little-hows-your-father if you will. I didnt think anything of it but he actually called me the next day. So we began dating, he spent xmas even and xmas with my family, spent weekends together and my cousins actually liked him. Things were going great, or so I thought. Then out of the clear blue, bam he stops talking to me. So now I start thinking to myself, what is wrong with me? Am I ugly and he found some little mamacita that was thinner, prettier and would give him hand jobs before he drops her off from a nice date? I mean what the f! When I finally confornted him and asked him WTF mate? Well, of course it was MY FAULT. He was mad at ME because I asked why he didnt contact me at all. I knew he had a lot on his plate with studying for his midterms (he is getting his MBA) and work. Hey we all have our shit, shits hectic on this island these days. I totally understand so I gave him some space. So when I first brought it up he brushed me off. What I dont understand is, with all this technology (i.e. text/email/facebook) you couldnt drop me a little text saying "sorry havent gotten to you in awhile, shits been real crazy with work and school". I would have totally understood. But to literally drop off the face of the earth is just not cool man, not cool. When is it men are going to grow up and start acting their age. I mean this guy was going to be 32 and treated this little situation as if he was in high school. I was waiting for someone to slip me a note in homeroom informing me that, we will call him Le'Douche, was in fact giving me the axe. Is it tht hard to just be honest with people and up front. I have never been one of those needy girls that demands 100% attention. I hate talking on the phone and I do not believe in spending every second with the one your dating. But would it kill you to send me a text letting me know you were alive? Ladies, am I wrong here? When are men going to suck it up and be a man? Am I the only one out there who seems to date every douche bag in the surrounding area? Thoughts/feelngs?
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