Holiday Stomach Flu...the gift that keeps on giving!

I hope all of you had a wonderful Holiday. Mine was less than spectacular…

I was so excited to spend Christmas with my boyfriend’s family. They’re all so nice and fun to be around. We did the normal Christmas mass, drove Lenhertz Ave., hung out, and played Scene It (Chris and I ROCK as a team!). We waited for his brother, Adam, to get home from work just after midnight and we opened presents. It really was a good time.

UNTIL…

I was feeling sleepy all day. I just figured it was residual from work and dealing with kids. As we were cleaning up, I started to feel, well, questionable. I stood up and realized “Oh, no!” I was gonna blow!

I ran to the bathroom. I would have made it in time, I really would have. Except that the lid was closed on the toilet. I threw up all over the pretty bath mats and toilet seat cover.

Not only was I mortified that I yakked on Christmas Eve, but I completely defiled my boyfriends, mom’s bathroom! My first Christmas hanging out with his family and all I want is to flush myself down the toilet to avoid seeing them again.

The good news was that I was too sick to go to Christmas dinner the next day. I’m not sure when I actually have to face them again. What on earth am I supposed to do? Is there a Halmark card for “Sorry I puked in your potty on Christmas?”

I’m so embarrassed. I hate the stomach flu.

My Space

So it seems that I've been called to the dark side...

I'm making an attempt at my space. (Thanks to Julia and Molly).

I know...two pages at once?!?! Who knew!

Don't worry, I'll still be bloggin' here. I'll just have an additional space. All I need now are friends!

Check me out http://www.myspace.com/eabethie

Let me know! (Yeah, I know it's gonna suck until I figure that one out too!)

Things that bug me...

People at the gym on their cell phones!!

I was at the gym today and this chickie is on an elliptical talking on her cell. I know you’re supposed to be able to have a conversation while exercising but this was ridiculous. She was bouncing around dialin’ her phone…I have enough trouble just staying on the treadmill, let alone have a conversation! (Don’t ask about that story…)

Then this guy was on the treadmill right next to me talking on his cell phone. It’s not like the gym is crowded on Sundays…there were a total of four people on the treadmills, and the guy has to be next to me yakking away on his cell. I had my iPod on, and I could still hear this guy. And to top it off, his conversation was all about getting a piece of ass last night (that poor woman). After the account of his escapades he proceeded to comment on all the women in the gym! (Clearly he was a boob and ass man.)

Is there some kind of etiquette that I’m missing? Is this ok?

People! Put the cell phones away and get your workout!! I don’t need to know how she was last night!!!

I hate Ketchup

I was having one of those days…you know the ones. My students were screwy, rude, and obnoxious. A member of the administration happened to be wandering by when these kids were acting up. I noticed a student had been cutting herself…

Ya, know typical day at my school.

So I decide to head for some comfort food and the gym. (The gym to work off the calories of the comfort food and burn some frustration) I stop at Mr. Submarine. It was a random choice. I don’t usually frequent the place unless I’m up late and slightly inebriated and Nick is driving, but it was on the way and it had a drive through, so I stopped.

I order a hot dog. Everything on it.

Now, I live in Chicago. Food is taken very seriously here. A hot dog, in Chicago, is supposed to have certain things:
- A BEEF hot dog (the less mystery meat the better),
-Mustard (yellow, not the dejon or Stadium Mustard),
- Sweet Relish,
- Tomato slices,
- Raw Onion,
- Dill Pickle Spear,
- Sport Peppers (which I can consent to being optional) and
- Celery salt,
- all heaped on a Poppy Seed Bun.

When I got my dog, it had onions, relish and FUCKING KETCHUP!

WHAT THE HELL!!! As if my day wasn’t bad enough. I was so annoyed I couldn’t even eat it. I could have handled missing a few missing items, but the ketchup thing is just wrong! I understand that there are people who have other preferences. I understand that there are people who love ketchup and actually eat it with a fork (Andy). But what kind of place puts ketchup on a CHICAGO style hot dog?!?! I know that if I’m in New York and I order a dog with “everything” I may end up with sauerkraut, but I expect that! Anywhere with a 773 or 312 area code should know better. There are places that don’t even have ketchup in their facility, not even for fries!!

Isn’t there a law against this?

UGH! Just when I thought my day couldn’t get worse, the fuck-up fairy tops it off with a little ketchup. Next time, I’ll take the extra time and head to Super Dawg, or Dog Stop.

But on that note, where are your fav hot dog spots? (Sometimes a girl needs back up!)

Tales III

So… I have lunchroom duty. I was making sure that the kids were in the lunch line and not horsing around too much. I was motioning with my arms for the kids to get in line and one of the students licked my bare arm!!

WHAT THE HELL?!?!

I asked him, “Did you just LICK my arm?!”

All he did was look at me, walk over, take my arm in his hand and wipe the slobber with the sleeve of his shirt.

And kids think teachers are weird?

Man-Scaping

Yesterday I gave my friend Nick a manicure. His hands were pretty bad. I literally had to take a pumice to them. He has a date with this girl on Saturday, so this was much needed considering he works on elevators.

I was thinking, this could be a really business for me. Think about it. If women go to get a manicure or pedicure, they expect a spa environment. A man is not all about the same experience; they’d want something different. Here’s my proposal.

I could open a man spa. Instead of the relaxing music, I could have TV’s with ESPN, hunting shows, tool shows and cars playing on them. I could replace the water and juice with beer and peanuts.

I could over “man-scaping” services in a non-froofy environment. I think it would be a success. It would be a step up from the barbershop. Men could get all the things that they think they need (or that their wives or girlfriends think they need) in a non-intimidating place.

I just need to figure out a manly alternative name for a manicure…

Hand Resurfacing?
Hand Detailing?
Any Suggestions?
Any sponsors for my new business venture?

Parents amaze me...

Report Card pick up for the first quarter was yesterday. Why is it that parents barging into my classroom to scream at me for giving their child a low grade in Art? Luckily, I can always justify my grades.

Here’s how things went:

Parent: “How can my child be failing art? It’s easy, it’s not like it’s as important as Math or Reading”

My Internal Monologue: “Thanks for saying in front of your child that the subject matter that I received a masters degree in, is not important.—cuz’ that will encourage them to do better! Not to mention it insults the person giving your child that grade”

Actual comment: “Well, let’s ask your child what they’ve been doing in my class.”

Student: “Nothing.”

Internal Monologue: “No shit captain obvious.”

Actual Comment: If the student doesn’t turn in work I have nothing to grade. I have to give him a zero. That means they get an F. If you turn all your work in, you should get at least a D. If you try you can probably get a C or a B.

Parent: “How can you be doing nothing?! Are the projects to hard?”

Internal Monologue: “We’re painting. It’s not brain surgery. You put the brush in the paint and the paint on the paper!!”

Actual Comment: We’ve been painting. I give out one color of paint to use each week. If the child only has one color on their paper, that means they didn’t do anything the other days.” (Sneaky, but it’s an easy way to CYA!)

Parent: (Changing their tune) “Oh, well then we need to work harder, don’t we.”

Parent exits dragging their child out of the room.

**Sigh** Only 3 quarters to go.