I remember when, in 2nd or 3rd grade, someone came to our class. I don't remember who they were, or what they were trying to accomplish, but they brought astronaut ice cream.
And I was hooked.
Now, whenever Steve's being all sensitive and crap, he buys me overpriced, freeze-dried ice cream from the camping section so I can relieve my childhood days. Honestly, the stuff's not that great, but it's ASTRONAUT ICE CREAM which automatically makes it fantastic.
Anyhoo, while eating my Lucky Charms last night (because cereal always tastes better at night), I made an epic discovery--the marshmallows must be astronaut marshmallows! Why else would they have the same texture as astronaut ice cream? Why else would they not swell until they explode into a gooey, unappetizing mess after sitting in your sugar laden milk for extended periods of time? Not that my marshmallows ever last that long.
I don't care what reality is. I don't care if they're just really dry, old, cardboard like marshmallows. From now on, they shall be known as astronaut marshmallows. And all will weep at their glory.
Thank you.
Monday, April 29, 2013
Wednesday, March 13, 2013
1,005 Page Views
Holy freaking crapito!
How in the world did this stupid blog break 1,000 page views?????
I swear, only about 500 of those are my own...
So now, some completely random crap..........ito....
I dreamt last night that Miley Cyrus was the new spokesperson for Sea World, and she did it while wearing stuff that would make a Victoria's Secret Model blush.
Kellin was at Sea World and almost gotten eaten by Shamu, but I saved him and took him to Nicklecade, instead.
I have a recurring nightmare that I'm running away from a bad guy, and I get in the car, but I can't close the door because my foot won't move out of the way.
My daughter is a big sister to a baby we've never seen.
I always like the depressed/ornery people in a show (think Squidward, Eeyore, etc.).
I've been sneezed on by an elephant.
I'm deathly afraid of worms.
I'm wearing mismatched socks.
I wear pajamas in public at least once a week.
It's really hard to find corned beef that doesn't taste like dog food.
I feel it's a complete travesty that my husband traveled all the way to Iraq, spent a year-and-a-half there, and never once rode a camel.
Steve built a little latched door over the keyboard slide-out tray on our computer desk so we can lock Fay out of it (I don't have the ability to fix anything on a computer, unless rebooting will help).
Edward, the Biology lab instructor, quit. I am no longer Bella.
UPDATE
Only 19 page views were my own. :0
Here's a break down of where people live that have viewed my blog:
The only countries that I could find on a map are the US, Russia, Australia, Canada, and maybe the UK.
I'm afraid.
How in the world did this stupid blog break 1,000 page views?????
I swear, only about 500 of those are my own...
So now, some completely random crap..........ito....
I dreamt last night that Miley Cyrus was the new spokesperson for Sea World, and she did it while wearing stuff that would make a Victoria's Secret Model blush.
Kellin was at Sea World and almost gotten eaten by Shamu, but I saved him and took him to Nicklecade, instead.
I have a recurring nightmare that I'm running away from a bad guy, and I get in the car, but I can't close the door because my foot won't move out of the way.
My daughter is a big sister to a baby we've never seen.
I always like the depressed/ornery people in a show (think Squidward, Eeyore, etc.).
I've been sneezed on by an elephant.
I'm deathly afraid of worms.
I'm wearing mismatched socks.
I wear pajamas in public at least once a week.
It's really hard to find corned beef that doesn't taste like dog food.
I feel it's a complete travesty that my husband traveled all the way to Iraq, spent a year-and-a-half there, and never once rode a camel.
Steve built a little latched door over the keyboard slide-out tray on our computer desk so we can lock Fay out of it (I don't have the ability to fix anything on a computer, unless rebooting will help).
Edward, the Biology lab instructor, quit. I am no longer Bella.
UPDATE
Only 19 page views were my own. :0
Here's a break down of where people live that have viewed my blog:
United States
|
885
|
Russia
|
62
|
Ukraine
|
20
|
Germany
|
18
|
United Kingdom
|
7
|
South Korea
|
7
|
Malaysia
|
4
|
Taiwan
|
4
|
Canada
|
3
|
Australia
|
2
|
The only countries that I could find on a map are the US, Russia, Australia, Canada, and maybe the UK.
I'm afraid.
BIO 190
I'm taking my first college Biology course, and I can't believe how stressed over it I am! I've never been one to worry about tests, but I can't sleep the night before an exam with this class. Right now, I'm waiting to go to class to take my next exam, and I'm actually nauseous.
Granted, the first quiz I took for this course I completely bombed (somewhere around 60% correct), but ever since then I've done increasingly better. Still, I keep thinking I'm going to fail miserably. I guess that's the doormat in me. Especially since, even if I did fail, it wouldn't be that big of a deal--I'd just take the course again.
I seriously didn't want to fail Statistics, because I hated every second of it, but I'm quite enjoying this class. I stayed as far away from Science courses in high school as I could (terrified of being told to dissect something), but the deeper I get into Biology, the more interesting I find it. I'm no longer terrified that I'm a Science major.
What I'm feeling, right this moment, is akin to stage fright--I know everything's going to be fine, but I'm so freaking tense I can hardly function. Once the test starts, I'll be fine (even if I don't know the answers), so it's stupid that I feel this way.
Granted, the first quiz I took for this course I completely bombed (somewhere around 60% correct), but ever since then I've done increasingly better. Still, I keep thinking I'm going to fail miserably. I guess that's the doormat in me. Especially since, even if I did fail, it wouldn't be that big of a deal--I'd just take the course again.
I seriously didn't want to fail Statistics, because I hated every second of it, but I'm quite enjoying this class. I stayed as far away from Science courses in high school as I could (terrified of being told to dissect something), but the deeper I get into Biology, the more interesting I find it. I'm no longer terrified that I'm a Science major.
What I'm feeling, right this moment, is akin to stage fright--I know everything's going to be fine, but I'm so freaking tense I can hardly function. Once the test starts, I'll be fine (even if I don't know the answers), so it's stupid that I feel this way.
Sunday, February 17, 2013
Valentine's Day-2013
Where I live, there's really not much to do for a date (unless you gamble or visit...the red light district). This year for Valentine's Day, I decided to go all out for my hubby.
His absolute favorite place to eat is Subway, and I won't ever go there with him. In my defense, as a flexitarian, I get the exact same sandwich, every time. As a picky eater, nothing ever varies or is added to it. Who wants to pay $5 for that, over and over again? Not me.
In true amazing-me-fashion, I took real plates and a table cloth there, set the table, and we "dined" in style. We got some strange looks, but not very many. After all, there is the man in town with white, bushy mutton chops, who goes grocery shopping in overalls, with no shirt. Tablecloth Subway isn't so weird.
His absolute favorite place to eat is Subway, and I won't ever go there with him. In my defense, as a flexitarian, I get the exact same sandwich, every time. As a picky eater, nothing ever varies or is added to it. Who wants to pay $5 for that, over and over again? Not me.
In true amazing-me-fashion, I took real plates and a table cloth there, set the table, and we "dined" in style. We got some strange looks, but not very many. After all, there is the man in town with white, bushy mutton chops, who goes grocery shopping in overalls, with no shirt. Tablecloth Subway isn't so weird.
Thursday, January 31, 2013
Naive, Table for One
Dude. I am so freaking naive. Like, all the time. I was reminded of that last night.
I went to my first laboratory class for a college course I'm taking. Here are bits of a conversation I had with the instructor. Things I thought, but, thankfully, didn't say, are in italics.
Me: (walking in the door) Is this biology?
Him: Yes. I'm Edward. You can call me Edward.
Me: (sultry voice and pose) You can call me Bella. (normal voice) Oh, okay.
Him: So what are you majoring in?
Me: (panicking) What the crap is my major???? Uh...um...(awkward pause). Oh, yeah! (snaps)
Natural Resources. Integrative Science, Natural Resources.
(Time passes)
Him: Everyone introduce yourself and tell why you're taking this class.
(Others go)
Me: I'm Alicia, and I have no choice.
(Time passes)
(Instructor gives out tasks to two groups. One group has two students, one has three. I'm in the group of three. I'm sitting watching, and the instructor jumps in)
Him: Here. (hands me a set of atomic bead thingies) You can do it by yourself. I feel bad. You're just
sitting there watching.
Me: It's okay. I don't mind.
Him: Here, I'll be your partner. (circles behind me and stands disturbingly close; continues to do so
throughout the lesson, not offering any real help)
(End of class)
Him: For your practical exam tonight, I'll draw lots and invite each of you in, one by one, to form a
molecule and draw a diagram.
(I end up being last)
Me: (walking into room)
Him: (overly excited) Hi, partner!
Me: You know, this partner thing kind of sucks. You don't really do anything. How about you take the
test for me?
Him: (laughs, gives instructions, making sure to invite me to call him "Edward" again)
Me: (takes the practical exam)
Him: The first half of your exam was to build a model. You did it perfectly, so you get a score of 20. That's
perfect.
Me: Yeah, no duh. You gave me the short bus molecule.
Him: The second half of your exam was to draw a diagram. You did it perfectly, so you get another
perfect score of 20.
Me: I feel like I'm in Iron Chef. Where's the dramatic music?
(Everyone comes back in the room; while disassembling my molecule, a bead flies across the room. I chase after it, while Edward screams, "Save the bead! Save the bead!"
Him: Would everyone like to hear the scores?
(Everyone agrees; Edward announces perfect scores for everyone, stating the types of molecules that everyone made, except for me; the molecules everyone else constructed are way more complicated than mine was. I finally start to get suspicious)
(Edward tells everyone what will be covered next week and dismisses the class. Everyone gathers their things)
Me: (moving toward the door)
Him: (moving with vampire-like speed to block my path) Wait, I'll copy the study manual for you. (He only
had three manuals at the beginning of class)
Me: Oh, okay, thanks! I would have gotten home and been like, "Dang it!" (it does not occur to me until
later that there was another student that went home without a manual)
Him: (moving slowly around the room, shutting down each computer, picking up scraps of paper from the
floor)
Me: (growing increasingly suspicious/nervous)
(All other students leave the laboratory; Edward continues to futz around)
Me: (moving to look at some poster on the wall that I still have no idea what was on it) Did he mean he
would make a copy for me later and give it to me next week? Should I leave?
Him: So, do you work?
Me: No, I'm a stay at home mom.
Him: Oh, that's cool.
(Awkward pause; more futzing)
Him: So, what do you want to do with your major?
Me: Oh, suck. Uh, it's really lame and weird, but, if I ever have to work, I want to work at Sea World.
(remembering more than one person bursting into stunned laughter at this very declaration)
Him: (overly reassuring) Oh, no, that's a really cool ambition! (making severe eye contact) Do it. Go for
it. Do it.
Me: Forget Iron Chef. I'm on a soap opera. (stands there awkwardly, silent)
Him: I've always had a dream to be a pathologist.
Me: If I knew what the crap that was, I'd be impressed, I'm sure. Oh, that's cool! Please let this end,
please let this end.
Him: (picking up coat) Oh, sorry. (scrabbling study guide together) Why don't you take this down and
get a copy made? I'll follow you down.
Me: (desperately snatching paperwork) Okay! (dashing out the door)
Him: (following almost immediately)
Me: (wondering just how thunky my pair of pink rainboots can possibly be)
(I reach the office)
Me: Dude, quit ignoring me! Over here, woman! Don't you know I'm in a dire rush????
(Lady finally turns around)
Me: (talking too fast) Hi, can I get a copy of this? (thrusts papers toward her) Oh, crap, they're
probably not supposed to make copies for students, especially not 20 pages. Please take the
papers. Please take the papers. He's almost here!
(Lady finally stops talking to other lady and disappears with papers to copy them; Edward arrives)
Him: (standing far too close to me, starts making small talk with other office lady)
Me: (sweating and slightly nauseous)
(Lady brings back papers, hands them to me)
Me: Which one's the original? Which one's the original?!?! (jams a set of papers into Edwards hands;
not making eye contact) Here, thanks. (scurries for the door)
Him: (following close enough that I know I should hold the door for him, but I don't)
Me: (walking faster, trying not to totally eat it in the icy parking lot because my rainboots have no traction)
Him: (beeping his little fancy security system on his little fancy car)
Me: (fumbling with my keys in the dark, next to the Turtle)
Me: (panicking, seriously afraid he's going to follow me home) Yeah, thanks, Edward! Quit talking to
me! Quit talking to me!
(I drive home, nauseous, sweaty, and with an insane desire to cackle uncontrollably)
Just for a little more background information: there was a woman in the class that's over 50 and is an obvious smoker/drinker that tanned way too much in her youth. Last week, the professor for the course (that's in Elko) announced that lab was cancelled, so she was the only one that showed up for lab (she wasn't in class). Throughout the entire lab, she was hitting on Edward like crazy, doing that whole nasty writhing-in-your-seat thing that the director does on the extras for the original Twilight DVD. She kept purring about having his number (which he gave to everyone at the end of class) and how she kept trying to get him to go out last week (I'm assuming to a bar) instead of instructing.
She's not a cougar. She's a saber-toothed tiger.
Also, Edward is relatively attractive. I've been married for so long, I didn't even pay attention. Honestly. I didn't ring check him or anything. I also had no idea he was hitting on me until we'd been together for an hour-and-a-half.
I came home feeling dirty and confessed all to Steve, feeling like I'd had an affair
He laughed at me.
Now I'm afraid to go to lab.
"Excuse me, matire d'? I have a reservation. Naive, table for one.
"I prefer to eat alone."
I went to my first laboratory class for a college course I'm taking. Here are bits of a conversation I had with the instructor. Things I thought, but, thankfully, didn't say, are in italics.
Me: (walking in the door) Is this biology?
Him: Yes. I'm Edward. You can call me Edward.
Me: (sultry voice and pose) You can call me Bella. (normal voice) Oh, okay.
Him: So what are you majoring in?
Me: (panicking) What the crap is my major???? Uh...um...(awkward pause). Oh, yeah! (snaps)
Natural Resources. Integrative Science, Natural Resources.
(Time passes)
Him: Everyone introduce yourself and tell why you're taking this class.
(Others go)
Me: I'm Alicia, and I have no choice.
(Time passes)
(Instructor gives out tasks to two groups. One group has two students, one has three. I'm in the group of three. I'm sitting watching, and the instructor jumps in)
Him: Here. (hands me a set of atomic bead thingies) You can do it by yourself. I feel bad. You're just
sitting there watching.
Me: It's okay. I don't mind.
Him: Here, I'll be your partner. (circles behind me and stands disturbingly close; continues to do so
throughout the lesson, not offering any real help)
(End of class)
Him: For your practical exam tonight, I'll draw lots and invite each of you in, one by one, to form a
molecule and draw a diagram.
(I end up being last)
Me: (walking into room)
Him: (overly excited) Hi, partner!
Me: You know, this partner thing kind of sucks. You don't really do anything. How about you take the
test for me?
Him: (laughs, gives instructions, making sure to invite me to call him "Edward" again)
Me: (takes the practical exam)
Him: The first half of your exam was to build a model. You did it perfectly, so you get a score of 20. That's
perfect.
Me: Yeah, no duh. You gave me the short bus molecule.
Him: The second half of your exam was to draw a diagram. You did it perfectly, so you get another
perfect score of 20.
Me: I feel like I'm in Iron Chef. Where's the dramatic music?
(Everyone comes back in the room; while disassembling my molecule, a bead flies across the room. I chase after it, while Edward screams, "Save the bead! Save the bead!"
Him: Would everyone like to hear the scores?
(Everyone agrees; Edward announces perfect scores for everyone, stating the types of molecules that everyone made, except for me; the molecules everyone else constructed are way more complicated than mine was. I finally start to get suspicious)
(Edward tells everyone what will be covered next week and dismisses the class. Everyone gathers their things)
Me: (moving toward the door)
Him: (moving with vampire-like speed to block my path) Wait, I'll copy the study manual for you. (He only
had three manuals at the beginning of class)
Me: Oh, okay, thanks! I would have gotten home and been like, "Dang it!" (it does not occur to me until
later that there was another student that went home without a manual)
Him: (moving slowly around the room, shutting down each computer, picking up scraps of paper from the
floor)
Me: (growing increasingly suspicious/nervous)
(All other students leave the laboratory; Edward continues to futz around)
Me: (moving to look at some poster on the wall that I still have no idea what was on it) Did he mean he
would make a copy for me later and give it to me next week? Should I leave?
Him: So, do you work?
Me: No, I'm a stay at home mom.
Him: Oh, that's cool.
(Awkward pause; more futzing)
Him: So, what do you want to do with your major?
Me: Oh, suck. Uh, it's really lame and weird, but, if I ever have to work, I want to work at Sea World.
(remembering more than one person bursting into stunned laughter at this very declaration)
Him: (overly reassuring) Oh, no, that's a really cool ambition! (making severe eye contact) Do it. Go for
it. Do it.
Me: Forget Iron Chef. I'm on a soap opera. (stands there awkwardly, silent)
Him: I've always had a dream to be a pathologist.
Me: If I knew what the crap that was, I'd be impressed, I'm sure. Oh, that's cool! Please let this end,
please let this end.
Him: (picking up coat) Oh, sorry. (scrabbling study guide together) Why don't you take this down and
get a copy made? I'll follow you down.
Me: (desperately snatching paperwork) Okay! (dashing out the door)
Him: (following almost immediately)
Me: (wondering just how thunky my pair of pink rainboots can possibly be)
(I reach the office)
Me: Dude, quit ignoring me! Over here, woman! Don't you know I'm in a dire rush????
(Lady finally turns around)
Me: (talking too fast) Hi, can I get a copy of this? (thrusts papers toward her) Oh, crap, they're
probably not supposed to make copies for students, especially not 20 pages. Please take the
papers. Please take the papers. He's almost here!
(Lady finally stops talking to other lady and disappears with papers to copy them; Edward arrives)
Him: (standing far too close to me, starts making small talk with other office lady)
Me: (sweating and slightly nauseous)
(Lady brings back papers, hands them to me)
Me: Which one's the original? Which one's the original?!?! (jams a set of papers into Edwards hands;
not making eye contact) Here, thanks. (scurries for the door)
Him: (following close enough that I know I should hold the door for him, but I don't)
Me: (walking faster, trying not to totally eat it in the icy parking lot because my rainboots have no traction)
Him: (beeping his little fancy security system on his little fancy car)
Me: (fumbling with my keys in the dark, next to the Turtle)
the Turtle--although mine doesn't look anywhere near this awesome
Him: (yelling across the parking lot) Have a good weekend, Alicia! I'll see you next week!Me: (panicking, seriously afraid he's going to follow me home) Yeah, thanks, Edward! Quit talking to
me! Quit talking to me!
(I drive home, nauseous, sweaty, and with an insane desire to cackle uncontrollably)
Just for a little more background information: there was a woman in the class that's over 50 and is an obvious smoker/drinker that tanned way too much in her youth. Last week, the professor for the course (that's in Elko) announced that lab was cancelled, so she was the only one that showed up for lab (she wasn't in class). Throughout the entire lab, she was hitting on Edward like crazy, doing that whole nasty writhing-in-your-seat thing that the director does on the extras for the original Twilight DVD. She kept purring about having his number (which he gave to everyone at the end of class) and how she kept trying to get him to go out last week (I'm assuming to a bar) instead of instructing.
She's not a cougar. She's a saber-toothed tiger.
Also, Edward is relatively attractive. I've been married for so long, I didn't even pay attention. Honestly. I didn't ring check him or anything. I also had no idea he was hitting on me until we'd been together for an hour-and-a-half.
I came home feeling dirty and confessed all to Steve, feeling like I'd had an affair
He laughed at me.
Now I'm afraid to go to lab.
"Excuse me, matire d'? I have a reservation. Naive, table for one.
"I prefer to eat alone."
Monday, January 14, 2013
Proof I'm Not Perfect
Now, as hard as it may be to believe it, I'm not perfect. I can understand why you would think I am (heck, just look at this blog), but I'm not. I'm selfish, I exaggerate, I make small children cry. But one of my favorite foibles is my ability to judge people incorrectly. Let me elaborate.
I just got back from my first music class of the year. Last year, I taught music in my local elementary school, for free, from October to May for the 3rd, 4th, and 5th grades and prepared the kids to perform twice. All in all, the experience left something to be desired. After all, dissolving into tears and blubbering in front of the principal wasn't on my to-do list that day. Hence, I haven't exactly been waiting with baited breath for music to start up again.
I went to the elementary, and the first two classes didn't show (I'm only teaching 4th grade this year, in protest of the junkiness of life). I got all ticked and erased the board and put everything away, ready to go home. Just as I went to get my coat, the third class showed up. The teacher apologized, then said that things were crazy with the standardized testing going on.
Oh.
That.
Yes, someone should have told me that MAP testing was going on, so I could have stayed home with Fay (who was completely heartbroken that I went bye-bye without her), but of all the excuses in the world as to why the teachers and their classes didn't show up, that's the one that I would accept, no question.
Stupid judgy me.
I just got back from my first music class of the year. Last year, I taught music in my local elementary school, for free, from October to May for the 3rd, 4th, and 5th grades and prepared the kids to perform twice. All in all, the experience left something to be desired. After all, dissolving into tears and blubbering in front of the principal wasn't on my to-do list that day. Hence, I haven't exactly been waiting with baited breath for music to start up again.
I went to the elementary, and the first two classes didn't show (I'm only teaching 4th grade this year, in protest of the junkiness of life). I got all ticked and erased the board and put everything away, ready to go home. Just as I went to get my coat, the third class showed up. The teacher apologized, then said that things were crazy with the standardized testing going on.
Oh.
That.
Yes, someone should have told me that MAP testing was going on, so I could have stayed home with Fay (who was completely heartbroken that I went bye-bye without her), but of all the excuses in the world as to why the teachers and their classes didn't show up, that's the one that I would accept, no question.
Stupid judgy me.
Sunday, December 16, 2012
Chronicle of a Doormat
12-16-12
I wanted boiled eggs for lunch, but it is too selfish to boil enough eggs (6) to fill myself up, so I made Top Ramen instead. The Ramen didn't cut it, so I ended up boiling eggs, too. Just not 6 of them.
1-13-13
Steve got up with the baby this morning so I could sleep in, but, even though I was way tired, I just lay in there and felt guilty for sleeping in.
1-14-13
I sat at the elementary for an hour, doing nothing, because I'm too much of a doormat to go to the office and ask the very nice receptionist to page the teachers.
I wanted boiled eggs for lunch, but it is too selfish to boil enough eggs (6) to fill myself up, so I made Top Ramen instead. The Ramen didn't cut it, so I ended up boiling eggs, too. Just not 6 of them.
1-13-13
Steve got up with the baby this morning so I could sleep in, but, even though I was way tired, I just lay in there and felt guilty for sleeping in.
1-14-13
I sat at the elementary for an hour, doing nothing, because I'm too much of a doormat to go to the office and ask the very nice receptionist to page the teachers.
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