Curlers: Big Lots; Robe: Gifted; Ring: Hubby; Expression: House of I Don't Care
{What I'm wearing}: Yes. I'm wearing curlers. And a big fluffy robe. It was one of those fashion days. The kind where you just have to rip everything off and crawl into your security blanket with sleeves because, confidence be damned, you just want to be cozy and forget that fashion exists. What's all that about? you say? Yesterday's outfit felt like, not so much a miss, but a...foul ball. Nobody holds it against you, and the game goes on, but you feel totally awkward and embarrassed. I'm talking about the collared shirt under the way too thin sweater that made my torso look like a stuffed scare-crow. Or maybe that's just how I was feeling. Anyway, today's outfit wasn't so bad: Gray slim fit pants, black flowery tunic under a purple swing sweater all belted together with a lovely gray belt tied ala` Sydney who I also believe inspired dear Adrienne's outfit in the same tutorial. One of the Fourth-ies said I looked cute and that she liked my outfit...one of the kid Four-thies. Which is cool; she's a good kid. I'm not bonding so well with the staff. I think I might have stepped in it when I commented that I had implemented "workshop" into my 7th grade self-contained class last year and that I could manage the fourth graders fine and I just needed to know what direction I should be headed in for my unplanned days instead of crawling in begging for guidance because I, a lowly sub, can not function without lesson plans from the permanent teacher. Okay, I'm being *overly* dramatic here. But I don't think the other fourth grade teachers liked me saying I could function fine because I had taught middle school. I mighty have been subconsciously hoity-toity. {Oops}
{What I'm Thinking}: Speaking of my {temporary} fourth graders, there is a set of twins in the room. I thought there was a rule against that. I shouldn't be all that shocked; I had a set of twin boys in my sixth grade class my first year of teaching. That's what made me decide that if there wasn't a rule against it, there definitely should be. Do you know how awkward it is to explain to a parent that one of their sons is doing just fine but the other is in a downward spiral on all fronts and they've got both the boys in the conference with you? That sucks. I could understand the situation if it was a year-round, multi-track school and having them in the same class was the only way to get them on the same schedule. But the school I'm at only has the one schedule! Why do this to a teacher? ::sigh:: It's only my problem for three more days and then I can forget about it.
{What I'm Writing}: My blog has been my most creative writing to date. I wrote a summary about an article on pretzels this afternoon. For the Fourthies. I should really try to write less stream-of-consciousness style on here. It's annoying and diary-ish, isn't it? Maybe this is why I can't think of anything. That stupid crystal has sucked out all of my drive. Well? Laugh*.
Sorry I haven't blogged in two days.
The Holiday crunch has caught me, and that means that I've been thoroughly distracted by EVERYTHING. Between gift shopping, gift giving, gift wrapping, gift unwrapping, gift making, and cooking, I've just been lost. I even had a melt down after a trip to the post office (I guess you could say I went postal). To make up for my lack of blogging, here's a holiday poem I threw together. Disclaimer: I never said I was a poet.
Twas the week before Christmas...
and I was a wreck, I had stuff to be mailed and a dress to erect, the weather was crummy, but then my sweet honey, decided I must just open one gift. He smiled and pointed, and wheedled and pinched, until I gave in and pulled out a gift that was his. The truth of matter {If you can't already see} is that I'd been itching for him to open his gift from me. So we sat on the floor and swapped coy little smiles, as we ripped off the paper that had been on the boxes for just a short while. We were both quite surprised as we uncovered our prizes, mine a Flip camera with a display that does slide, and his a large jar with "Joe Jost's" inscribed. He couldn't believe that I'd bought him a jar, to make pickled eggs in, from his favorite bar. But, no, I said sweetly, as he looked the thing over, the jar was not bought, but made by your lover. Then off to the market, I flew like a flash, to buy pickling spices and eggs for my man. Upon coming home, I whipped out the tripod, and set up my camera to film my goings-on.
And here's a short film of me making pickled eggs for Marty in his new jar! I look like a wreck, but it was the weekend. At least my outfit is quasi-festive.
