Dear Internet (aka, Rachel, Rachel's mom, and my mom)
I'm leaving for California tomorrow--a place where the weather doesn't diarrhea all over you, a place where I can walk outside in short sleeves without danger of frostbite (I do, however, face the danger of the earth opening up and swallowing me whole). I'm going to be visiting my grandparents who live near San Francisco for my Spring Break.
I'll post pictures when I get back!
I'll miss you.
Love,
Jeanette
Saturday, March 29, 2008
Saturday, March 22, 2008
A Dialogue Between Winter and Spring
Presenting: A Dialogue Between Winter and Spring
(as imagined by me)
Spring: Okay, I'm here...give me a rundown. What am I looking at?
Winter: Oh, here she is...the one they love...Miss Priss...well, I'm not done here...so BACK OFF!!
Spring: Winter, we go through this every year. You've got to let go. Can't you see how miserable they are.
Winter: Ungrateful little..."Oh, Winter, we love you until Christmas" and then it's like, "okay that's enough" Where's the love?
Spring: I know...I know...but you've got to move on...it's time. It could be worse...you could be Summer. I still don't think they've forgiven him for Hurricane Katrina.
Winter: Whatever. Think they can wish me away that easily...well, I'll show them...I'm going out with a bang.
Spring: *sigh* Here we go...every year...it's the same with you.
Winter: And every year I love how much it makes them miserable.
Spring: Fine, have at it...you know I'm going to get so much crap for this.
Winter: Okay...see you next year...SUCKAS!!!
...aaaannd SCENE.
(as imagined by me)
Spring: Okay, I'm here...give me a rundown. What am I looking at?
Winter: Oh, here she is...the one they love...Miss Priss...well, I'm not done here...so BACK OFF!!
Spring: Winter, we go through this every year. You've got to let go. Can't you see how miserable they are.
Winter: Ungrateful little..."Oh, Winter, we love you until Christmas" and then it's like, "okay that's enough" Where's the love?
Spring: I know...I know...but you've got to move on...it's time. It could be worse...you could be Summer. I still don't think they've forgiven him for Hurricane Katrina.
Winter: Whatever. Think they can wish me away that easily...well, I'll show them...I'm going out with a bang.
Spring: *sigh* Here we go...every year...it's the same with you.
Winter: And every year I love how much it makes them miserable.
Spring: Fine, have at it...you know I'm going to get so much crap for this.
Winter: Okay...see you next year...SUCKAS!!!
...aaaannd SCENE.
Friday, March 21, 2008
Once Upon A Time...
(Based on a true story)...
Once upon a time there lived a young lady who grew up in a land far, far away known as California. This young lady loved her life in California: shorts 70% of the year, swimming for six months (or more) of the year, eating lunch outside almost every day, a perpetual tan. Life was good in this land of warm weather. Then, one day, the young lady was forced to move to a horrible, horrible place -- a place that caused her skin to turn an ugly, pale color. A place where she was forced to don a COAT 7 months of the year. A place where the word "Spring" meant nothing. A place where she could no longer wear a pretty dress on Easter Sunday lest she die from frost bite. And here she remains...looking out her palace window at the 6-12 INCHES of SNOW falling on the ground on the second day of "Spring". Her laments go unheeded, and she must try to console herself by watching Season 2 of Gilmore Girls in its entirety.
*Sigh*
Once upon a time there lived a young lady who grew up in a land far, far away known as California. This young lady loved her life in California: shorts 70% of the year, swimming for six months (or more) of the year, eating lunch outside almost every day, a perpetual tan. Life was good in this land of warm weather. Then, one day, the young lady was forced to move to a horrible, horrible place -- a place that caused her skin to turn an ugly, pale color. A place where she was forced to don a COAT 7 months of the year. A place where the word "Spring" meant nothing. A place where she could no longer wear a pretty dress on Easter Sunday lest she die from frost bite. And here she remains...looking out her palace window at the 6-12 INCHES of SNOW falling on the ground on the second day of "Spring". Her laments go unheeded, and she must try to console herself by watching Season 2 of Gilmore Girls in its entirety.
*Sigh*
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
Out of the Mouths of Babes, Part II
Heard in the last week from various students (directed towards me & my self-esteem):
"Mrs. Parker, you look pregnant in that sweater."
"Mrs. Parker, are you sure you're not pregnant?"
"That's an interesting shirt, Mrs. Parker."
"What's up with your hair?"
"Is that a zit?"
"It's just that your stomach sticks out...that's why I'm asking."
"It stinks in here."
"You look tired."
"Are you PMSing?"
And just so you don't think I never hear positive comments...(said to me after I was sick on Friday (not from morning sickness!!)
"Mrs. Parker, don't get sick again; we missed you."
You take the good, you take the bad, you take them both.
"Mrs. Parker, you look pregnant in that sweater."
"Mrs. Parker, are you sure you're not pregnant?"
"That's an interesting shirt, Mrs. Parker."
"What's up with your hair?"
"Is that a zit?"
"It's just that your stomach sticks out...that's why I'm asking."
"It stinks in here."
"You look tired."
"Are you PMSing?"
And just so you don't think I never hear positive comments...(said to me after I was sick on Friday (not from morning sickness!!)
"Mrs. Parker, don't get sick again; we missed you."
You take the good, you take the bad, you take them both.
Monday, March 3, 2008
WARNING: This Post is about Zits.
You have been warned.
So, ever since I started teaching this year, my skin has taken part in some sort of mutinous revolt...against my face! I don't know if my skin feels like it needs to empathize with the pubescent teenagers in my life, or if it knows I stand in front of judgmental pubescent teenagers all day and it needed a good laugh. Whatever the reason, my skin has not been without an ugly blemish since Sept. 6. Aaaand before you begin your "you're pregnant" predictions, I'm not...so don't say it.
It's horrible. I don't know what to do short of sanding my face with a high-powered sander every night before I go to bed. I think, though, that would lead to a whole other mountain of problems including necessary cosmetic surgery.
I have hypothesized that it may be due to the mounds of stress that have taken up residence in the form of a permanent knot in my stomach. Or my pizza diet. Or my chocolate diet. Or my crisco face wash.
Okay and not to gross you out (mom), but I'm starting to get ugly ones on my neck (did you just throw up in your mouth a little?) It looks like a reverse vampire bite. I mean all I need now is the head gear and coke-bottle glasses and my reverse make-over will be complete. I'm not sure if my body entered some ugliest teacher contest without my permission...but as soon as the mustache starts to sprout I'll start preparing my victory speech.
P.S. Next time you see me...I'll understand if your gaze lands directly on the zit taking over my face.
So, ever since I started teaching this year, my skin has taken part in some sort of mutinous revolt...against my face! I don't know if my skin feels like it needs to empathize with the pubescent teenagers in my life, or if it knows I stand in front of judgmental pubescent teenagers all day and it needed a good laugh. Whatever the reason, my skin has not been without an ugly blemish since Sept. 6. Aaaand before you begin your "you're pregnant" predictions, I'm not...so don't say it.
It's horrible. I don't know what to do short of sanding my face with a high-powered sander every night before I go to bed. I think, though, that would lead to a whole other mountain of problems including necessary cosmetic surgery.
I have hypothesized that it may be due to the mounds of stress that have taken up residence in the form of a permanent knot in my stomach. Or my pizza diet. Or my chocolate diet. Or my crisco face wash.
Okay and not to gross you out (mom), but I'm starting to get ugly ones on my neck (did you just throw up in your mouth a little?) It looks like a reverse vampire bite. I mean all I need now is the head gear and coke-bottle glasses and my reverse make-over will be complete. I'm not sure if my body entered some ugliest teacher contest without my permission...but as soon as the mustache starts to sprout I'll start preparing my victory speech.
P.S. Next time you see me...I'll understand if your gaze lands directly on the zit taking over my face.
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