Life update....

Hey folks! Life's been crazy lately so I have been VERY lax on the blog posting. Sorry. I have a rather unexciting but important life update for all of you, and I only want to explain this once, so this is my attempt...

I have to move. I know, not what you were expecting right? Me either.I found out yesterday from my landlord that pending some extenuating family circumstances on his end, I will not be able to continue my lease once it is up Sept. 30th. I'm really not too thrilled with this new development, as I've been happy living where I'm at and I really love my apartment. But there you have it. I am now knee deep in the un-fun process of apartment hunting. That will be followed by the even less fun process of packing and moving. If you want to be really nice and come an help me, I can pay you in beer and pizza.

That's all for now folks...I'm off to go rummage sale a bit for school.

-Peace.

What's in a Name?

I have to start this blog out with an apology. I have been neglecting my goal to write more because I have not felt as though I've had anything interesting to say. But, I am back and making a great effort to keep on blogging, even if there is no topic that strikes me. You never know what might come out of those days.

Today, however, a topic has struck me. I was inspired by a video I just watched on YouTube to do a little thinking about really bad names. Here is the video that provoked such random nonsense: 

I do strongly believe this man has had WAY too much caffeine, but he does hit on a topic I've always found interesting, BAD NAMES. 

While investigating this topic further I found a very interesting article about bad names from the New York times citing the worst name as Iona Knipl. I have to say that one is definitely a contender. 

When I think of horrible things to name people, celebrities always seem to pop into my head. It could be that some of my favorite bad baby names come from celebs, I suppose. There are the standard crazy names like Apple and Coco, but they do tend to get stranger than that. Jason Lee named his son, Pilot Inspektor. If you thought Michael was the only Jackson to misname his children (cite Prince Michael and Blanket here), you'd be wrong. Older brother Jermaine named his son Jermajesty. A personal favorite of mine are the names director Richard Rodriguez (Spy Kids and El Mariache) named his four boys, Rebel, Rocket, Racer, and Rouge. I'm quite certain I will not be answering that phone call for a babysitting job. A new favorite is Speck Wildhorse, John Mellencamp's son. Nothing like giving your child a serious self esteem problem. I can hear it now, "I know why no one loves me! I'm just a speck!!" 

Sometimes what I feel really takes the cake are the middle names. For example, Sage doesn't sound like a terribly horrible name, especially if you are wise or like herbs. However, pair it with the the middle name Moonblood and you've got a real winner. Apparently Stalone wasn't thinking that one through. Another, slightly different example of this is when the first and last name fit together to make a catchy saying, like Tu Morrow. Yikes...it's just asking for ridicule and it takes all the creativity in other kids figuring out how to change your name around to tease you. 

Outside of the world our Hollywood, some real life names I've encountered have stuck with me as unusal. I'm sure this list will continue to grow and grow and grow. Spider. There is a boy where I grew up with that name. I hope he's not afraid of them. Lemonjello and Orangejello (pronounced le-mon-ja-low and oar-an-ja-low respectively). Also, the fun phonetically spelled name Cardeair. Love those diamonds, but French is difficult to spell correctly. 

If you know of any other ridiculous names, I'm always curious. Please share them with me. 

In addition, here is the link to the 33 worst celebrity baby names for your reading pleasure: http://www.babble.com/celebrity/celebrity-style/33-worst-celebrity-baby-names/?page=1

Tales of a Babysitting Nightmare

Not so long ago, I was sharing a babysitting horror story with a friend. It reminded me of many of the babysitting stories I acquired in the decade or so I spent babysitting to earn extra income through middle school and high school. There are many people I know who have pretty awful babysitting stories, but this one was definitely awful for me. It wasn't really scary like my friend who had a kid stick his foot in the garbage disposal and threaten to turn it on, but it was pretty awful nonetheless.

I was babysitting for a two little boys this particular day. One was about five and his little brother was about two. The older boy was pretty hyper and was a definite handful. I'm not sure why anymore but when I arrived the kids were watching a movie in their parents bedroom, so that is where we were hanging out. We were watching the movie Ice Age, and everything was going really smoothly. This was a rare occurrence when I was watching these darlings. Then the older boy asked me if he could read in his parents closet.

My fourteen or so year old self thought, "Well, he wants to read. That can't be a bad thing. So what if he's doing it in a closet? At least he's reading!" And so I told him he could. On the surface this didn't seem like a bad idea. After some time, I began to realize I should probably check on him. He'd been in the closet for what seemed like a while, and in my experience when loud kids get quiet for too long it usually means they are doing something they're not supposed to.

That's when I peeked into the closet. I saw him sitting with a flashlight snuggled into the corner of the closet. I then began to shut the door...when...wait. what. was. that? It couldn't be what I thought it was because it looked like a part of the female anatomy a little boy wouldn't be reading about. That sneak peek caused me to open the door to that closet again. When I finally did get a look at what he was reading I was shocked.

Sitting there in the closet, flashlight in hand, one leg folded on top of the other, the little five year old boy who I was supposed to be watching was sitting in his parent's bedroom closet reading Playboy.

I was mortified. I made the boy put it down and leave the closet and we played games the rest of the night. When his parents came home I couldn't bring myself to tell them what happened. I was so embarrassed and at 14 didn't exactly know how to broach the subject of a small boy finding a stash of Playboys. All I wanted to do was go home and never come back. I happened to be "busy" every time they called after that. I felt badly for taking the wimpy way out, but I just couldn't go back to that house.

It makes me laugh now. The fact that I caught a five year old looking at Playboy is really laughable. I've got many other random babysitting adventures, but that one certainly takes the cake. I hope it entertained you as much as it did me.

No Flying Cars?

It's Saturday morning and I'm sitting on my couch in my pajamas watching a movie on TV. I always love weekend mornings because I can get up and laze about in my pajamas without having to get myself up and out the door for work.

This morning I woke up and Back to the Future was on. I ate my cereal and watched the last part of the movie. There are a hand full of movies that I just cannot turn off when they come on TV. Back to the Future happens to be one of them. I love that movie! I sat through the end of the movie where Marty McFly gets hit on by his own mother and then brings his father, George, to her and makes them fall in love. Great stuff!

As with any trilogy, when one movie is on TV, next comes the sequel. I'm not one to love the sequels to Back to the Future, so usually once the first is done I flip the channel. I wasn't fast enough this morning and then as I watched I began to wonder...WHERE ARE THE FLYING CARS??

It always amuses me about what people thought the future was going to be like. Back to the Future II takes place in the year 2015. Apparently in the next four years we will have the following things: flying cars, hoverboards, self lacing shoes, self fitting jackets, and computerized waiters. We also wear our pants inside out. Oh, and the Cubs win the World Series.

Maybe I missed something...my car still drives on the ground. The only thing that I know of that hovers is a hovercraft and it's powered by a giant fan system. Last time I put on shoes, I laced them myself. One size fits all still means that something will never fit me. And I have only ordered food from real life wait staff. Oh, and sorry all you optimistic Cubs fans, but I still don't think this is your year. (And I don't just say that because I'm a Brewers Fan).

The world definitely has changed a lot since the 1980s. Technology changed in ways we couldn't have imagined. Computers and internet have revolutionized the way we live. I think we overestimated the way technology would change though. But who knows, maybe someday my shoes will still lace themselves.

Stories from Rm. 001

I've been wanting to write for some time now, but every time I sat at my keyboard, I wasn't really moved to write anything. Today I got a great idea to share with you some random moments that have happened in my class that just make me smile.

Story #1 Johnny and the Glog

I have a student named, well, not Johnny, but let's call him that. He's a student who has a difficult time learning and receives a lot of support in school. Johnny has a very dry sense of humor, but when you listen carefully, you'll find the things that he says are absolutely hilarious. Last week, students had to present an online poster to which they had posted two videos. Johnny was the star of his groups two videos. When the videos were playing he high tailed it to the back of the room like it was nobody's business. He wanted nothing to do with being near the front of the room while the video was playing.

Another thing you need to know about Johnny is that he has a difficult time forming words, so he has a very distinct voice and speech pattern when he talks. He's also heard himself recorded a number of times. As soon as he started speaking in the video, his response was, "WHY DO I SOUND BRITISH? Why am I doing that accent? I do not have an accent. Seriously! I sound British, why?"

It was all I could do to keep from laughing. That is his voice and he does sound a little British, but he wasn't doing an accent.

Story #2 Nemo Touched the Butt

There is a student in my afternoon class, who often cannot help but blurt out things at random. There are times when I am certain that he has no ability to keep comments to himself or use his internal monologue. Today, I was teaching students how to write concession statements in persuasive essays. In order to get students to remember how to do them, I told them to write a "but statement." I then made sure to point out what kind of but I meant. As I turned toward the board to begin modeling what I wanted them to do, this student said, "Nemo touched the butt." I couldn't help but laugh. Little did he know that is one of my favorite parts of Finding Nemo.

Story #3 What is it? A full moon!

There was a day earlier this year where my students were all acting cuckoo for cocoa puffs. I had a feeling that a full moon was nearing and that's why they were just acting awful. By the time my last class rolled around and they were also really talkative, I couldn't take it anymore. They were the unlucky group that got the lecture from Ms. W. Somewhere in the midst of my stern lecture to my absolutely SILENT class about being respectful in class, I made the comment, "What is it? A full moon?"  In the midst now of the silence a student very quietly went, "Ahooooooo" like a wolf howling at the moon. Everyone had their eyes on the student and then me, questioning, what are you going to do to him??? I took one look at the student, and burst into laughter. He looked at me and smiled. Then the kids looked confused and started to laugh. I told them that even I couldn't keep a straight face through that and then continued teaching. The kids were great the rest of the hour. Evidently a little howl was all we needed.

Wjhy I hjate the jjjjj

I have an issue with the letter "j." You may be thinking to yourself that is an absurd comment to make. My name does not contain the letter "j." Many great words contain the letter "j" such as joy, juxtaposition, jump, jelly, and a variety of names that begin with "J." Despite the fact that I love to use the word juxtaposition at any possibly appropriate moment, the "j" continues to plague me.

Many eons ago, when I was living in the college dorms the keyboard of my laptop decided to reject the "j" key. I would be typing and the "j" key would go flying across the room. My roommate was always amused at me cursing under my breath at the key that made it impossible to type many words.

Now, that issue lasted a while and then I decided to get a new keyboard. My dad replaced it and everything was hunky dory. I typed words containing the letter "J" to my hearts content and no keys went flying. Then my print screen key disappeared. This wasn't a major concern of mine considering that I don't believe I've ever used the print screen key. Then, I realized that my warranty was almost up, so I decided to have my keyboard replaced again while I didn't have to pay for it.

That's where everything took a turn for the worse. My friend kindly replaced my keyboard for me as I was too afraid I'd break something. As soon as it was "fixed" all hell broke loose. The "j" key was on a mission to make typing anything impossible. Now the key doesn't go flying. It just adds a "j" into whatever I'm typing whenever it pleases. If I am typing and pause too long I'll get jjj. Or, sometimes I'll get a "j" in the middle of random words. Occasionally if I used my computer to input grades, I'll enter things like 10j or 11.jj5. (I actually only typed one of those "j"s on purpose.) My favorite is when I go type in a password and among all the ********** a little innocent letter "J" sneaks it's way in.

In this blog alone I deleted about 15 superfluous letter js. Apparently my keyboard is rebelling and I don't know how to make it stop. I want to blame my keyboard replacer, but he claims it is user error. I disagree, it's probably a faulty keyboard. Nevertheless, I'm just done with all these extra js. It makes editing a nightmare.

The Curse of the Crane

I believe I am cursed. Something you need to realize about me before reading this, is that I am not a superstitious person. I don't believe black cats are bad luck. I open umbrellas inside and I've walked under ladders. Sometimes it amuses me when I do these things when truly superstitious people freak out. Now that you know this again. I will repeat my previous statement. I believe I am cursed. The bad luck of the Sandhill Crane has descended upon me.

Let's take a walk back in time so I can explain how I've come to this unusual conclusion.

When I was in high school, I developed a fear of birds. Most fears I have developed early in my life, falling from high places, spiders, etc. Nothing super unusual. However, this fear of birds has plagued me for several years now. This is how it all started....

There is a large number of sandpipers and other birds in my parent's neighborhood. If you've never had the pleasure of encountering a sandpiper, I will inform you of how stupid these birds are. They build their nests on the ground in the gravel. Their eggs look like gravel and therefore become camouflaged. It probably has to do with protecting their eggs, but I think they're just asking for people to step on them so they can't continue to reproduce. Anyway...one particularly brilliant sandpiper thought it prudent to build it's nest next to our mailbox, which is located just slightly down and across the street from our house. Whenever I would go to get the mail, the bird would swoop down from the sky and attack my head because by reaching into the mailbox I was clearly making an effort to crush it's moronically placed eggs.

This single instance of mail retrieving turned into a war on my being near the mailbox. It got to the point that I had to get the mail from inside my car because the bird wouldn't swoop down in a nose dive at my vehicle. Nevertheless, this instance caused my terrific fear of birds.

I will admit (though my mother would probably disagree) that this fear has gotten better. I can now be outdoors in the same general vicinity as a winged creature. However, I don't plan on walking into any aviaries any time in the near future.

Now, back to the matter at hand, the curse of the Sandhill Crane.

At the school in which I teach, there is a Sandhill Crane that lives nearby or at the very least uses our playground area as his hangout spot. If you aren't familiar with this creature, it's like a giant sandpiper. This bird is three feet tall. Now you might say to yourself, Sara, you are an intelligent woman and over five feet tall. Clearly you should have no issue with a smaller creature. However, you would be wrong. It is completely unnatural for a bird to be three feet tall. It is horrifying.

Let me take you back to St. Patrick's day. I arrived at school and went to walk in my usual door, when I noticed Dear Mr. Crane standing RIGHT IN FRONT OF THE DOOR! Now, being that I am mortified of this giant creature there was no way I would be the one shooing him out of the way. That would require walking right at him which would mean the only place for him to fly would be toward me. I don't think so. My logical course of action was to continue walking to the lower level entrance down a large hill and completely out of the direction I was going. I didn't mind however, it was a better alternative than duking it out with the crane. Now for the bad luck part-I was on after school supervision that afternoon when I a student push another student into me and caused me to re-injure a sprained ankle. Case of bad luck number one.

I would have normally assumed these were isolated incidents until yesterday....

I was driving home from a soccer game and talking to my mother on the phone when a rock came flying out of nowhere and chipped my windshield. Now this normally wouldn't be more than a horribly annoying bit of bad luck, except that last week due to hail damage I just had the windshield replaced on my car. After having my new windshield for five days, I now have a fairly sizable chip in the glass. It wasn't long after this occurred that I recalled yesterday morning the crane was basking in the sunshine in front of my door again. He was then chased down the hill after me by a student (we all know I wouldn't have attempted to go through the door). Now, I know logically the bird wasn't chasing me as much as it was being chased, but nevertheless, it was horrifying.

These two incidents of bad luck are proof that seeing the crane outside of my entrance into school. is a bad omen. Being that this is the case, I have no decided to always use the front entrance, where the crane does not fly, sit, land, bask, or do any other crane-esque activities. Please beware of Sandhill Cranes, my bad luck could rub off on you.