My Fu Man Chu Mustache

Carol Keys, who is my clone, promised me today that she would make sure that I didn't have a mustache when I live in the nursing home.

I think I just need to have it lasered off and not worry about it.

Carol would be true to her word.

She's the person that banned me from wearing tube socks to work.  She set me down and we had the talk....time to get with the 2000's.  It's not the 1980's.  NO TUBE Socks....not even under my jeans.

Jeans....no mom jeans.  Time to buy a pair of jeans.  No mom jeans....no tube socks, ever!

I don't want to be the lady with the FuManChu mustache.....wearing tube socks in mom jeans.

Dumb Things I've Done-- Four in a Series of Millions

Dr. Oz said that if I ate Coconut Butter on my toast, the fat would melt from my hind quarters like a pig on a spit over a open bed of charcoal.

Coconut Butter is the next "thing."

ha ha ha

It was like  eating suntan lotion for breakfast.

If you want to simulate this-- just pour some Coppertone on your baked potato.

Wrong.  This is so wrong.

I Wanna Live in a Beach House

What makes a beach house so fun?  It is not cluttered.  It has puzzles.  It has books.  It is not cluttered.  It has utensils that you use.  Lamps for reading.  It is not cluttered.  Chairs for sitting.  A television for watching.  Rockers for rocking.  Binoculars for bird watching.  Bird feeders.  It is not cluttered.  It is made for different people to move in and out of with a minimum of fuss and bother.

It's all about the people living, loving and laughing in the house.

Huh?  Well, this makes sense.

No fuss.  No muss.  Easy to clean.  Easy to live in.  My new decorating manta.  No fuss.  No muss.

A vacation each and every day-- really?  Yep. That's my goal.

I have taken hundreds of loads of "stuff" to Goodwill.  I am still cleaning and going through my treasures.  Does it fit?  Would I wear it?  Would the kids let me wear it?  No more tube socks-- they have been banned from my wardrobe (right Carol?).

My closet has changed.  I have some play clothes.  I have my outdoor clothes.  I need to find a good dress....as my grandma once said, "You need to have something to get buried in."

Pass the sunscreen.

Rudeness

Geez, are people getting ruder with my old age?  Or am I just getting pickier?   AND I am not talking about kids and teens.  I am tired of middle aged to old people being in a hurry and cutting in line.  In fact most kids and young adults act better than people my age.

Frankly, I'd like to give them detention with Modestine Ivy or Peter Christensen in charge of the detention hall.

Maybe I should start carrying discipline referrals and handing them out randomly to jerks?

The DOT has signs saying "Merge Left,  Lane Closed Ahead."  Some jerk drives straight to the front of the line and wants to cut in.  NO.  You are not special.   NO.  Everyone is busy.  NO.  You are the fastest, bestest driver in the world.  NO.  You think you are clever.  NO.  You really should go to the back of the line.

The bank has little ropes so that people can move in order and hear the nice ladies say, "May I help the next person in line?"  You are either so busy talking on that pink cell phone or you are just plain stupid when you breeze past the sweet little lady in the wheelchair who has been waiting so patiently...yep, I'm the one who told you to go to the back of the line....no cutting.

Does it hurt to be that stupid?

People should not fart in restaurants.  I'm not saying you might not have to fart.  But, I think you should excuse yourself and go to the restroom.  OR go outside.  And don't laugh....no one thinks it's funny.  (I did read somewhere that people love to smell their own smells-- do you think that's true?)

Just call me Emily Post.

Does Bruno Mars eat Snickers?

Or does he exclusively eat "Mars Bars?"

Hmmmmmmm.

Bad Boss

I've been lucky in my professional life.  I really only had one immediate supervisor who was a fool.  It was one of my first jobs as a teacher and he was the head of our building.  He was stupid and he had power.  That, dear readers, that is a deadly combination.  It was in another state, in another time, in another life....but stupid transcends time and place.

I can accept powerful people if they're smart.  Now, for you purists, I'm not only talking book smart.  I'm talking street smart.  If you can improve my teaching by being a better educator than I am, well, I'll listen to you.  If you want me to be your puppet just to see me dance, I can promise BAD Erin will emerge.  And bad Erin is, well, bad Erin.

My Bad Boss-- He was stupid with a Capital ST!  He sent out letters with misspellings.  He called faculty meetings with nothing to discuss, present, or announce.  He was a part-time PE teacher and the teachers caught him playing tag with the children in the gym in the dark.  He was a dullard.  He was a power hungry jackass.  He was 27 years old and one of the youngest in the building-- I was the  youngest.

He told one of my sweet 6th grade girls to shake off an arm injury after a particularly rowdy softball game.  Her arm was broken-- I could tell it by looking at it.  That was when I had enough.  I called the girls' mother to find out if she wanted me to call an ambulance or if she wanted to come and get her.  Folks, I drew the line in the sand.  War had been declared....young teacher against stupid.

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It went from bad to worse.  I have a wonderful knack of catching people. (Note to self:  It is such a good skill, I should put it on my resume.)  AND I have an even better knack of acting wide-eyed and innocent when I do catch someone.  (You Central kids thought I was naive-- I was just fishing for what you would or wouldn't tell me as an assistant principal-- I especially enjoyed asking some young people, "What would you use a water pipe for?"  I know you thought I really believed you when you said some people smoke tobacco in them. I nodded wisely and told you thank you.)

Sidebar:  Whenever someone was suspected of smoking dope, I ate Cool Ranch Doritos in front of them.  For an old, white woman, I was fly.  If the student started drooling.....you probably know the rest of that story....

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So, when the building head couldn't be found the day the 6th grade boy brought the bag of marijuana to school (with enough weed to supply the entire school and the science teacher said the street value could buy a small farm), the teachers followed the chain of command.  We looked for him.  We asked his secretary.  There was too much marijuana to mess with this one.  We needed to report this pronto.  So, we called his boss.  The boss looked for him. The sheriff came.  The sheriff looked for the dolt (building head).  Everyone was looking for him.  No bad boss around.

Alas, at the end of the day, just like a child who has cut school, the dolt returned for dismissal.  He said he had been to the library.  He never came back to our building.  

So, to the dolts out there, consider this is a warning.  I am looking for you.  I will find you-- wide-eyed and innocent.  AND I will cut you off at the knees.


(Well, this is a sunshiny little post.)

Dumb things that I have done-- Third in a Series

Once upon a time--

I got a new pair of contacts.  I loved them.  I could sleep in them.  I went outside to work in the yard.  I raked and blew the old leaves with my blower.

I got pollen under my contacts but I didn't know that.  I couldn't get the contacts out that night BUT that was okay.  These new contacts were designed to be slept in.

I am a fool.

The next day my eyes were the size of bulging tennis balls.  I tried to teach.  My graduate students sent me home because they didn't like looking at me.  I didn't like looking at me.

The eye doctor told me I had made a bad decision.  I don't think I've raked since that day.