Dinner

Hubby and my Oldest remember a time when my cooking was an adventure- might be edible, might be utter rot.
Then, I discovered Food Network. Alton Brown is mine and Pete's favorite, not too fond of Emeril. Bobby Flay rocks my grilling world. Re-Pete could probably pick Rachel Ray out of a "Where's Waldo" book.

Last night we made Bobby Flay's Cuban Burgers. Yummy!

Here's the recipe;

1. Salt and pepper the burgers, cook to medium. Don't turn off the grill.
2. On the bun of your choice- a little mustard and mayo mixed together on both sides, white cheese of your choice- Swiss, whatever, one for each side of the bun. Smoked shaved ham piled on the cheese, and some crunchy sour pickles.
3. Put burger on bread and fixings, close, wrap well in aluminum foil. You might want to spray a little non-stick coating on the inside.
4. Put burger back on grill, cover with a brick.
5. Wait 2-5 minutes, flip burger, repeat.
6. Cut to taste and enjoy.

I turn my back for one second!

Or in this case, try to spend 5 minutes alone with Hubby.
A little later, she walks into the kitchen with a sheet wrapped around her like we live in the sub-Arctic: head to toe, eyes peeking out. Well, my mother didn't raise any fools (well, one, but he can't help it) and the following ensued:
Me: "[Re-Pete], why are you wrapped up like that?" I see red something on her chin.
her: I dunno.
Me: Let me see.
Her: uh-uh.
Me: Yes, ma'am, let me see ::using Big Momma voice::
She drops the sheet, and she has drawn a line, in permanent marker, from her chin, down the neck, past the sternum, around the belly button a few times, and then around to the middle of her back.

Sheesh, there goes my Mother of The Year Award.

In 19 years

A Sequoia tree can grow about 65 feet.
A shark can replace over 260,000 teeth.
light can travel 98 trillion miles.
a dog ages 89 years.
a person replaces all the hair on their head about 8 times.
230 generations of house flies have lived and died
Bamboo could grow to be 20,000 feet high.
your finger nails could grow over 9 feet.

I have been the luckiest woman on Earth.

Love you, honey.

Whew! glad that's over

Last week was a ball buster. Too much to do and not enough time. The last week of school is bittersweet- kinda sad that I don't get to see some of these kids on a daily basis, but relieved that there are a few I never have to teach again.
Graduation was really nice- especially with the up close view I got! My camera screwed up, but other teachers got the pix, so we'll see them during post planning. I hadn't eaten much that day and by the time we were done I was running on fumes. Dinner was great! The wait staff that served us was impeccable! 15 people eating dinner at once, not an easy task, the lady who took care of us, (sorry didn't get her name) was AMAZING!
Poor Re-Pete went to bed Thursday with a 102 fever. Stayed home with Daddy on Friday. Then I realized at 3:30 that unless we found someone to watch her, she would be sitting on metal bleachers, in the sun, without me, for 2 hours, maybe 3. Not good. Finally at 4:15, my best pal M. said she'd come sit in the house for with her. I owe her BIG TIME.
The Boy loves his lap top and hasn't been away from it much. He's just glad to be done.

In 20 days he'll be leaving for boot camp. Sheesh.
oh, yeah, I forgot- today is mine and Rich's 19th wedding anniversary!

If the prefix "a-" means without or against, as in asexual, then why does the word alike mean similar?
Just wondering.

A Matter of Perspective

In the 1920's a person with Diabetes could expect to live 1-4 years. The treatment included whiskey and black coffee every two hours for seven days followed by a very strict oatmeal diet. People survived, but only barely. Insulin was costly, involving the destruction of the pancreas, and ultimate death, of many lab animals. The pancreas was destroyed and the insulin was extracted. It wasn't until the late 1970's that recombinant DNA was first discovered. This is a process of taking the DNA of one organism and putting into the DNA of another, recombining DNA. Cool stuff.
This process is pretty easy (doesn't seem that the best advances are always so "simple"?): take a chemical that only breaks DNA at certain point, these are called restriction enzymes. They are "restricted" to what they can do, get it? Find the DNA sequence for human insulin, (on an aside- when it comes to DNA, it's all about the sequence).
The steps:
1. Find sequence. Check.
2. Make restriction enzyme that will cut out that sequence. Check, check.
3. Copy the sequence many times. Got it.
4. Open up the DNA of some harmless E. Coli. Insert sequence for making human insulin. Double check! Roger doger, got it.

Now, take that E. Coli, put it in a Very Clean Vat of Purified Water. Add sugar. After all, even bacteria gotta eat. Keep those babies warm, happy and well fed. And what do Babies like to do more than eat?
Yeeeesssss, they like to shit.
In this case, they are shitting pure, unadulterated bona-fide human fucking Insulin. So good your body can't tell you didn't make it! No allergic reactions. No swelling, no shock.

So sometimes it's a matter of perspective isn't it? One organism's shit is another's lifeboat.

TMI

One evening last week, my darling hubs brought home crab legs for dinner.

I love me some crab laigs!

Uhmm, I'm allergic to them, sometimes. But it's a crap shoot, or maybe I should say crab shoot as to whether or not I'll have a reaction. This time I did, my head hurt like you would not effing believe. I told my students they could probably get away with murder if they would. just. be. quiet. The headache went away, but I don't think I want any more crab legs. My department head said he's never heard of anyone having a crab hangover. Funny.

So yesterday afternoon I get a rumbly feeling in abdominal area. I wait for the BM commencement warning, but then I get the worst farts I have ever smelled. Seriously.

Seriously.
I was appalled. What could possible have crawled up my ass and died to produce that bad of a smell? I made the dog leave the room. Seriously. I let one rip- a loud bap-bap-bap-bap-bap, the dog raised his nose and sniffed in excitement. Instead he sneezed and trotted off into the next room.
Traitor.

Re-Pete, whom I lovingly refer to as the "Up-My-Butt-Baby" was walking right behind me when bap-bap-bap-bap-bap, "Ewwww! Mommy" and then she started wiping her face, like something had gotten on her.

I cracked up again writing this!

Hubba told me if I woke him up tonight he was moving to the couch. He said he hoped he could wake up. We slept with the windows open so I wouldn't poison us both.

I was so disgusted with my self. But, strangely, perversely, proud at the same time.
Who could I share this experience with, someone who could appreciate a good fart? The list is rather short, I'm afraid.

When I woke up this morning, glad I hadn't poisoned myself, I felt better, no ruminations.
Then I got the signal-
BM commencing in 10 ....

Damn. That sucker was impressive. I swear I heard my uterus exclaim,"Who moved out? There's a lot more room in here now"

Suddenly, my stomach is empty and my center of gravity has shifted..

Grrrrr!

Don't you just hate it when someone takes a small mistake that you made, but didn't realize you made, and makes it seem like an effing Capital Crime against Humanity? And then insists that a letter documenting said discretion be put in your permanent file? And then says they don't want to talk about it? And then does the same thing to a few other people in your job?

But then, the instigator wants to now what the fuss is about, that it never was a big deal, and we shouldn't worry about it.

A letter in your file is almost a kiss of death should I ever want to move to a different school. Even the threat of one really bothers me.

I try really hard to do my job to the best of my ability. No one is harder on me about my mistakes than I am. I make mistakes, and will correct them if I can. But I would have at least liked to have been given a chance to discuss this or correct my mistake before that person flew off the handle.

For the 1st time in a long time I thought, "Maybe I could have a different career."

Grrr!

Teen pregnancy

I could go find the sources for this, but if you want them go to NIH's site, the CDC or just Google teen pregnancy to get these numbers:
35% of girls less than twenty will get pregnant.
Only a third of them will finish high school.


We had over 1400 students in my high school, a third of which are freshmen. We had 32 pregnancies right now, the high schools in our county have about a quarter of that. Something has to be done.
Yes, I know- abstinence is 100% effective in preventing the spread of disease and pregnancy. Tell that to the 14 year old whose parents don't care, but some fast talker tells her he loves her, baby.
And yes, I know, some are are Stand Up, Do Right kinda guys. But even they make choices....

Okay, off the soapbox.

I've been ok'd to get together a girls groups- one that fosters self respect, integrity, decision making, and abstinence. While still going over the other issues- rape, contraception, emotional and spiritual stuff.

YAY ME!!!!

I've wanted to do this for a while, finally got some really smart and savvy teachers to help me.

More later....

A New Bill Of Rights

Got this from Beth over at Yeah, Right, Whatever, whom I found over at Eric's site. This looked rather interesting...

A New Bill Of Rights

"We the sensible people of the United States, in an attempt to help everyone get along, restore some semblance of justice, avoid more riots, keep our nation safe, promote positive behavior, and secure the blessings of debt free liberty to ourselves and our great-great-great-grandchildren, hereby try one more time to ordain and establish some common sense guidelines for the terminally whiny, guilt ridden, delusional, and other liberal bed-wetters.We hold these truths to be self evident: that a whole lot of people are confused by the Bill of Rights and are so dim they require a Bill of NON-Rights."

ARTICLE I: You do not have the right to a new car, big screen TV, or any other form of wealth. More power to you if you can legally acquire them, but no one is guaranteeing anything.

ARTICLE II: You do not have the right to never be offended. This country is based on freedom, and that means freedom for everyone -- not just you! You may leave the room, turn the channel, express a different opinion, etc.; but the world is full of idiots, and probably always will be.

ARTICLE III: You do not have the right to be free from harm. If you stick a screwdriver in your eye, learn to be more careful, do not expect the tool manufacturer to make you and all your relatives independently wealthy.

ARTICLE IV: You do not have the right to free food and housing. Americans are the most charitable people to be found, and will gladly help anyone in need, but we are quickly growing weary of subsidizing generation after generation of professional couch potatoes who achieve nothing more than the creation of another generation of professional couch potatoes.

ARTICLE V: You do not have the right to free health care. That would be nice, but from the looks of public housing, we're just not interested in public health care.

ARTICLE VI: You do not have the right to physically harm other people. If you kidnap, rape, intentionally maim, or kill someone, don't be surprised if the rest of us want to see you fry in the electric chair.

ARTICLE VII: You do not have the right to the possessions of others. If you rob, cheat, or coerce away the goods or services of other citizens, don't be surprised if the rest of us get together and lock you away in a place where you still won't have the right to a big screen color TV or a life of leisure.

ARTICLE VIII: You do not have the right to a job. All of us sure want you to have a job, and will gladly help you along in hard times, but we expect you to take advantage of the opportunities of education and vocational training laid before you to make yourself useful.

ARTICLE IX: You do not have the right to happiness. Being an American means that you have the right to PURSUE happiness, which by the way, is a lot easier if you are unencumbered by an over abundance of idiotic laws created by those of you who were confused by the Bill of Rights.

ARTICLE X: This is an English speaking country. We don't care where you are from, English is our language. Learn it or go back to wherever you came from! (lastly....) NOW..

ARTICLE XI: You do not have the right to change our country's history or heritage. This country was founded on the belief in one true God. And yet, you are given the freedom to believe in any religion, any faith, or no faith at all; with no fear of persecution. The phrase IN GOD WE TRUST is part of our heritage and history, and if you are uncomfortable with it, TOUGH!!!!

Schoolhouse Rock - Interplanet Janet

Look! They made a video about me...

Presents for Everyone!!!

Here's a few presents for all you moms out there

Ben Browder

Matthew, you can play bongos for me anytime...

Everyone loves a cowboy!



I always did like long hair

They sure don't make 'em like that anymore

Oh, Mark!

Why can't Hubba look at me like McDreamy?

Help me, Lord, look at those eyes, that mouth!!!

Sometimes, we like a little Wild in our life!

We all need our heroes...

Get them while they're young, and teach them a thing or 2!

One last shot of Ben...

Here's to more sex with Hunks!!!!

Going to Ocracoke

One of my all-time Favorite Albums Ever is The Joshua Tree. I spent many a night listening to those tunes. I can't really listen to U2 anymore, they seem to have lost my interest, too much...something.
I remember driving to Ocracoke Island the spring I was 18 with a a gay guy friend of mine. I tell you his preferences because he was really, really gay. He drove a Fiero much like this one, only blue.
We left Doraville in the late afternoon, I remember listening to Bono singing from the speakers behind my head. Late at night we drove, down a tree lined avenue, the only light from the headlights, then sitting on the cursed ferry, traveling backwards over a rough sea.
Well, rough seas to me.
I felt like I was going backward for the rest of the weekend.

This particular memory has an almost poignant quality to it. Walking on that windy beach, probably high, was one of the last times that guy and I were friends. He did something stupid, I got pissed off.

We used to part at a place called Weekends. We'd get there at 11 pm and leave about 9 the next morning. First time I ever got high on coke was there.

Anyway, I've been listening to the album again, and wanted to share...

oh yeah, it would be interesting to find the picture of me standing up against the cross (with my arms spread out) that was on the beach. It was on Easter Sunday. I'm pretty sure I burned it in shame.

Checkit

Hey, 5,000!

And it's my darling Hubba who gets the Golden Egg, or at least a kiss.

Thanks to all you guys who read my blog....

The last Field Trip

Graduation rapidly approacheth, and my son went to Six Flags for Science Day. I got to tag along. We had our picture made, spent most of the day palling around, and even though he insisted he didn't want to hang around me the whole day, that's just what we did.

I didn't realize how much taller than me he was.

We had a great time, rode a few a roller coasters, my Favorite was the Scream Machine.

I chickened out on Goliath...

Mind Bender messed with my head.

The people serving food were Buttheads and many of the kids needed a smack in the mouth- but many of them of them were polite and friendly and were having a great time.

All in all, the day was a success.

new species

I discovered a new species of bird- in my classroom, of all places. I've named them the Chirpitus Doofii, the Doofus Bird. They seem to like pizza and bubble gum. The Doofi are very social birds, prefering to be in a crowd, Their song is a persistent "Wha-aaat? Wha-aat?" as if they have little understanding of the world around them. They are amorous creatures, preferring to court and sometimes mate in public. Contrary to other birds, their attire is designed to draw attention to themselves, even the females, but often seems too loose or too tight. I feel this is a doomed species, as they don't seem to follow natural laws.

Imitation

I tell ya, some days, life imitates art.
How, You say?
Well, glad you asked:

We're getting ready for our big end of the year and doing reviews.
Several of my students got off task whilst we were going over the questions, and got their answers mixed up.There were questions like
Which one was that?
That's 12? No, 13.
14? Is that with an I?
That's true? What?
What?
What?
So, says I, "This sounds a bit like "Who's on first?"
And immediately, several students start doing the shtick...
I settle them back down and continue.
A few minutes later, from the back I hear
What?
I don't get it...
Huh?
What?
That's supposed to be a joke?

heh, some days I just have to hang my head in wonder..

Messing with the kids

Sometimes I just can't help myself.

I brought home one of those little lasers that shines a red dot, you know the one? Hubba was laying on the couch, sans shirt, with Re-Pete. I shined in on his stomach-

"Look Re-Pete, Daddy's got a red dot on his tummy, get it!"

SMACK!

This continued, shining the light her and there- knees, tummies, etc, until I put it right on the tippy top of his nipple

She raised her fingers, coiled them in the pinching position and....

Hubba beat her too it and slapped his own nipple!

God, I love my life!

Can you hear me now?

Been trying to post more, wish I had something more interesting to say. Been teaching waves- sound and the EM spectrum. Told my kids about the mosquito tone. (BEWARE- it is annoying!)Of course, I had to play it for them- several times- without their knowledge. I kept turning it up until finally someone complained. I can't hear it too much- but damn what a headache- and it makes me nauseous.