Top Liars

So earlier this week when I was supposed to be getting some work done, I found myself watching a marathon of America's Next Top Model. (I'm sure my students appreciated my hard work and preparation.)
I like ANTM. It's entertaining enough. But there is something that bothers me...and it happens way too often. (Me, annoyed? You're shocked.) These girls--these pretty girls who have been hand-selected by Tyra Banks as Super Pretty Girls--get on camera and weep because they were "never the pretty one in school and no one ever noticed me." WHAT? Ok, maybe you have some self-esteem issues. I'll accept that. We all do. But you were "the ugly one"?? No. No, in fact, you were not. You're a MODEL. There are NO UGLY MODELS! Models are, by the very definition of what they do, PRETTY. So don't get on camera on national television and tell me, a NON-model, that "everybody thought I was ugly." Because nobody likes a liar, ladies.


Especially not an ugly one.

The Grandma Files.

Blah, for the past couple weeks my grandmother has been back and forth between her nursing home and the hospital. Poor woman. It's so hard to see her go to the emergency room--she's 91 and there's not a lot that we want done to her. So she goes in and complains about the IV and tries to pull it out and then she gets feisty and the nurses have to tell her a billion times why she can't get out of bed and then of course she forgets. We just wait for her to get the doctor's ok to go back.

What a good time.

In other news, we have this week off at school, so our Valentine celebration was yesterday. Despite my general loathe for the holiday, I like elementary school celebrations--because it's just about candy. I'm ok with that sort of priority list. I even consented to wear some pink and red for school spirit day. (I mostly wore black, so don't panic.) The nice part at their age is that it's not a romantic holiday. One of my 5th grade boys brought me an NBA Valentine...can you get LESS romantic than that? I love it!

I have to run now, because guess who isn't feeling well this morning? Oh yeah, my gram. I'll be back soon, internet. Fear not.

Seriously?

Last week, we got an email at work warning us about some pesticides being sprayed. (Apparently we had some flying ants.) It went out several days in advance and we were advised to take any food out of our rooms before Friday at 4, which was when the building would be sprayed. So, you know...it's a big deal.

Or so I thought.

I guess I was wrong? I work the homework club after school (yes it IS the coolest club to join) and dash down to the cafeteria at the end of the day. Well, TODAY I got to my office at 4:30 to find not an open door, as I left it, but a closed locked door with tape across and a sign proclaiming KEEP OUT, ROOM SPRAYED. (Bonus: My office locks automatically.) (Double Bonus: My keys? Inside. Obviously.) Um...cool?
I ran around and found another teacher and borrowed her keys and warned her that if I didn't return in two minutes, she should check my office for my body. I darted in and looked like a spaz trying to get all my stuff together and figure out what work needed to come home. Then I sadly threw away the apple that was to be my snack, having visions of my colleagues finding me Snow White-style. Poisoned apple rolling away from my hand and all that.

So here is my question: why would one pesticide spray merit some warning, but the other one...not so much? (Also: will my box of Triscuits be safe to eat? Does anyone know about flying ant pesticide? No? Ok, thanks.)

Confessions.

Admittedly, I enjoy the holiday season. Well, a lot of the holiday season. (You may remember the Mistletoe Rant of '06...) And I have had a really great month, from Thanksgiving until now. Ridiculously busy, but fantastic.

Those two things right there, busy and fantastic, are why I haven't posted lately. Because I was settling into a new job, so yay! And then I have been in a particularly good mood...which is freaking weird. I had to shake it off before I could return to you my bitter self. So if you can stick with me for a couple more days, all holiday cheer will vanish and I will post as much as possible.
Thanks, kids.

Proof positive that I am old.

I was sitting in on an English discussion in a 4th grade class today. The teacher reviewed antonyms, then asked students to suggest antonyms for various words. Things were going quite nicely until she threw out the word "sweet." Responses were immediate--"horrible" and "lame" were common. Puzzled, I looked at the teacher in charge...at the same moment, we realized what was happening.

For today's savvy 4th grader, lame IS the opposite of sweet.

We burst out laughing, because they weren't wrong...just too cool for us. I love my job. (Oh, and for the record, one student finally suggested something more along the lines we were thinking--sour.)

OMG.

Dear Private Practice,
EPISODES LIKE TONIGHT'S OUGHT TO HAVE A WARNING LABEL. I mean, come on. My mother would like grandchildren, and showing multiple women in labor DID NOT HELP HER AT ALL. It did not look like a warm and fuzzy event. It looked deeply unpleasant. And now everybody's having sex, as if the process leading up to it is supposed to make me forget how upsetting it looked while the women were SCREAMING and in pain. Thanks anyway.
Solitarily yours,
Bitter Amanda

PS- GIVING BIRTH IN A TUB IS GROSS. *ba