Shalinn: Real Facts

So I've decided to post about some "real facts" about myself. Take it or leave it.

Real fact #207: I don't like lettuce "on" things.

Not on tacos, not on sandwiches, hamburgers, anything of the sort. I will eat salads and lettuce wraps however.

Real fact #153: I am obsessed with pastel chocolate cherries from the Nifty Nut House in Wichita.

Mmmmmm. Tasty bit o' heaven.

Real fact #84: I really like the voice of country singer Clint Black.

And I readily claim not to care for country music.

Real fact #59: I have on more than one occasion seriously considered buying a stripper workout video.

Don't judge - my future husband would hopefully appreciate it someday, and the people on the infomercials claim that it's a good toning workout.

Real fact #126: I love the color of pink that can only be found at dusk right after a Kansas sunset.

I saw the most georgeous sunset the other night driving back to my parent's house - it was so beautiful I couldn't stop thanking God for it.

Real fact #32: For years, I have had the uncanny ability to notice the location of the moon during daytime.

My mother claims that this was one of my favorite things to point out when I was a child, and for some reason I get a small, nerd high when I notice it now as an adult.

Real fact #05: I often have very vivid dreams that blend reality with fiction and also give me the ability to play the role of myself and a bystander simultaneously.

Reality with fiction example: A couple of weeks ago, I had a dream that Don Chaffer patted me on the butt as a salutation. Have I met Don? Yes, but I've only spoken with him a couple of brief times. Why the heck in my dream he number one acted like he knew me well, and number two thought it was okay to pat me on the butt is beyond me. I remember looking over at Lori during the dream after it happened, and she didn't seem to think it was weird either.
Myself and bystander example: Last night I dreamed that I was an actress in a movie about four friends' struggle to survive a massive landslide. When I was not the one doing the acting however, I was watching four people do the acting, and conversing with the director who was talking to me as if I was still acting in the scene.

Real fact #170: I could never live alone.

I'm pretty sure that I would like it for musical purposes only (I have this weird thing about preferring to play piano and sing when I'm by myself - I often abruptly stop playing the minute someone walks in the door - maybe it's because I'm my biggest fan, or because I have major fears of musical rejection, and a major fear that I will annoy people in general, not just musically). Being by myself so much would probably cause me to buy plants and talk to them instead, and I would probably in turn crawl into a hole because I would not want to "annoy" my friends by emailing/calling them.

Well, this post will now come to a close - a furry creature is now pacing around our dining room table and whining to be let out, and back in, and back out, and back in. Those of you that have been to my residence know what furry phenomenon I speak of. God save the queen.

"grand"mothers during holidays

so i thought about writing about the joys and the anti-joys of the holiday season, but decided just to stick with the focused topic of my grandmothers. these stories are doozies, and i hope that it gives y'all a sneak peak into the wackiness of my family.

nutty thanksgiving moment: so my cousin is getting married in may and asked my dad to do the wedding (he's a pastor). he said no - he has a policy that he won't do family weddings because he can't be objective enough during pre-marriage counseling. my cousin understands. no hard feelings. UNTIL my grandmother (dad's mom) and my aunt (dad's sister) get to talking. and what do they do? call and gripe at my mother about how awful it is that my dad won't do the wedding and how could he do this to them and how they won't even tell my uncle about it because they know he would fly off the handle and how my cousin is sooo upset about it. so, my dad calls my cousin and gives in and says he'll do the wedding. and he finds out that my cousin didn't know this was going on, and was never upset about anything. thanks grandma. (by the way, we also were told that it was going to be nice not to have my immediate family at the big family thanksgiving dinner because they would not have to have turkey since none of them liked turkey anyway- apparently for all of these years they've made a turkey just for my parents, sister, and i - who knew?)

funny thanksgiving moment: see my blog post with my grandmother's (mom's mom) recreated drawings.

scary Christmas moment: my greatgrandmother (dad's grandma) lives in a nursing home in the town i was born in (about 15 minutes from the town i claim as my hometown). apparently two days before Christmas she tells my aunt that my dad's having an affair with a lady that's been friends with our family for a long time, who's also the hospice nurse who's been calling on my greatgrandmother. she's apparently told this lie to other people in the nursing home. well, to make a long story shorter, my dad had to go in and confront my greatgrandmother about it. she eventually admitted to making the whole thing up, and hopefully the rumor won't continue to circulate like small town rumors can. the family was so irritated with her that apparently, she was purposefully left out of the Christmas day activities with her sons, daughters, and grandchildren.

side story from long ago: i found out from my mom that this greatgrandmother (mentioned above) has quite the potty mouth. i guess that not long after my mom and dad got married, my dad's cousin backed out on her wedding day. another one of his cousins was to be married soon, and my mom made the mistake of commenting to my dad's aunt, "you don't think she would back out on her wedding too do you?" well, this got around to my great-grandmother (no one keeps their mouth shut in my family apparently) and she cussed my mom up one side and down the other. my mom says she's never been cussed at by anyone like she was from my greatgrandmother (there was lots of the f word, with other choice wordage). this happened over 25 years ago and to this day, my mom has not been in a room alone with my greatgrandmother.

happy holiday story: my other living greatgrandmother (mom's grandma - who's still to this day one of the wisest people i know) is turning 104 on january 1st. happy birthday grandma! she has not cussed out anyone in my family to my knowledge, and her mind is still so sharp that each and every one of her children, grandchildren, greatgrandchildren, and greatgreatgrandchildren gets a birthday card on his/her birthday. fun story about her - i found out in an interview i did with her last year that she dated someone while she was engaged to my grandfather - with his permission! grandpa was also the 4th man to propose marriage to her - she must have been quite a catch :)

well, my family has one last Christmas celebration this evening (on my dad's side none-the-less) so we'll see what stories unfold there. my, this is long, and there's many more stories i could tell. i have nothing else better to do in oxford, kansas than sit at the computer so at least this ate up some time! what did i do to pass the time when i lived here for 7 years? oh, that's right - i lost weight by playing volleyball, cheerleading, and making out with my boyfriend - ah how times have changed!

my grand inspirations for the new year

i had no idea that the "Snapple: Real facts" book that i received from my principal at school today would contribute to the contemplative mood that i've been in for the last month or so, but it has rocked my world. it seems as if the following revelations will not only reframe my thoughts about the past, but also change my thinking as i embark upon 2006. these all happen to be related to weight loss, which is an atypical thing for me to think about around holiday season (unlike many women), but it will be on my mind this next year!

"real fact" #109 - smelling bananas and/or apples can help you lose weight.

finally an excuse for me continually buying these items, and not actually eating them.

"real fact" #167 - you have to play ping pong for 12 hours to lose one pound.

ping pong. not worth the wait.

"real fact" #98 - when the moon is directly overhead, you weigh less.

which is why i look better at night than in the day time.

"real fact #108 - licking a stamp burns 10 calories.

it's probably because stamps taste like deuce and you end up making a nasty face after you lick them (see below).

"real fact" #103 - frowning burns more calories than smiling.

i smile too damn much - number one, because that's just the way i am, and number two, to try and attract men (for some reason, i've realized that smiling and laughing are my only two methods of "flirting" - ya, guys don't pick up on that). if i would frown and scowl at them, i'd lose weight. after i achieved my new thin look, i would maybe get a man, and then cancel out my reasoning for smiling and laughing at them in the first place.

and finally....the most revolutionary "real fact"......

"real fact" #102 - a one-minute kiss burns 26 calories.

this one really gets to me. it makes me really want a man. if i made out with him for 30 minutes a day, i would not only enjoy myself and potentially find a lifelong companion, but also lose 780 calories per makeout session! the gym would not even be a necessity. this impacts my past the most as well. it's no wonder that i weighed less in high school - read the following scenario: a typical fall friday night (particularly my junior/senior year) - go to volleyball practice, go cheerlead at a football game, come home and make out with my boyfriend for 2 hours. and the rest of the weekend? volleyball tournaments all saturday long, and significantly more making out which meant, a substantial amount of calories lost. NOW - fast forward through the last 7 years: amount of exercise = well, less - at some some points, next to none. amount of making out - ONE time during the last 7ish years (ya, um don't try to guess who it was - you don't know him). and only TWO other kisses that may have burned me 52 calories total.

CONCLUSION: do i weigh more now than i used to? yes. and theoretically, until i get married/get in a serious relationship, i just may continue to gain weight because i won't have that extra built in calorie burner. if that doesn't happen for me soon: out comes the banana and apple perfumes, my melancholy state that will promote frowning, and nighttime escapades of wetting postage in the moon light. with any luck, God will send me that special someone in 2006 - and stamps won't be the only thing i'm lickin'..... ;)

I would walk away too if I had to listen to this all Christmas long

So, this audioblog is of a song by a Mr. Daniel L. Lovell. I really feel that he takes an interesting look at how Joseph must have felt, and thought that it would "brighten" your holiday season. Oh, and by the way, this man comes and plays at my parents' church in Oxford on a quarterly basis. I have copies of his CD "Stayin' at the Earth Motel" if anyone would like one. It's very special, and I've heard that it's this year's hottest stocking stuffer next to a lump of coal. This man means well, but he is perhaps the reason I've never recorded any of my own original songs......

low budget plays and the pee that keeps butts in the seats

so i figured that since tiffany can talk about her childhood play productions, i could talk about mine. back in a Christmas of yore, i too wrote, directed, produced, and co-starred in a low budget production of "three blind mice." it most closely resembled the modern day hit musical "CATS" which as chandler from friends so elequantly put it, "it's people. dressed as cats." and that's basically what we were, my cousins kyane and codi and i. i remember preparing for what was probably hours in front my grandma's bedroom mirror attached to the closet door. we were all decked out in our new same print, different colored cat shirts and pants and were attempting to reenact that beloved children's song which basically is not only politically incorrect, but probably responsible for the loraina bobbit's of the world (you know, with the running after other women and the subsequent cutting off of apendages). we would stand at different levels as to mess with the depth perception of our viewers, we obviously danced and sang, and we also managed to stretch the one act play about a 15 second song into 10 or 15 minutes of pure mouse bliss.

so, it was time to strut our stuff in front of our mothers and grandmother who had busily been working to clean up the Christmas dinner dishes in the kitchen. we waited on them forever to finish and kept talking up our juvenille talent as actors slash singers slash rappers slash dancers. we were the original rapper tappers. i'm sure we read, what was oddly enough one of my favorite signs to read in my grandmother's kitchen, "please do not tamper with the cook's buns" about 20 times before the show was to go on. and then, finally, it was our big moment. i'm sure we introduced ourselves as if we were unknown to our female family members who birthed us, and then we began. unknown to me at the time of the start of this production however, was my mother's dier need to use the restroom. she stood there patiently and watched us perform, and of course kept thinking, "oh - they've got to be done soon" which of course was wrong since i'm sure we performed that sucker forever until it was just perfect. with each passing minute my mother's legs crossed tighter and tighter, until finally, she blurts out a yelp, with tears streaming down her face, doubling over in laughter as she's peed herself waiting for us to finish. that's right. our performance was so tony worthy that my mother peed her pants because she didn't want to miss the show. to this day, my cousins and i are reminded of that story every Christmas and told by my mother that if our children put on similar low budget productions, we have to be just as "polite" as my mother was. thanks mom.

mold, pictures, and thongs

so here's some of the holiday stories from turkey day that i feel should be imparted to my loyal readers....

STORY 1. the day started off pretty good i guess - i got up and my mom was already busy in the kitchen, as per usual - she had been cooking for days. after i had finished my panera cinnamon crunch bagel (which was delish), the macy's thanksgiving day parade came on, which let's just be honest, is just a way for 100 child broadway actors to do a cheesy lip sync and dance routine about how they're thankful for their cell phones (that really did happen - it "kicked off" the parade). my younger sister of course said that she was going to get up to watch this televised cheese ball with balloons and bands event, but of course meandered out of bed about 11a.m., just in time for the dog show which followed the parade. prior to her awakening, came a disturbing occurance from the kitchen from which the following quotes bellowed:

"i don't think it's supposed to look like that"

"do you think they're all like this?"

"it's all over my hands now and they stink"

no, it was not what your dirty little mind was thinking. it was pretty dirty however. as my mother cut into the packaging of not just one, but two turkeys, she found them not only to be frozen solid (even though they had been thawing since saturday), but also covered with a brown film and mold. sick. so, we called dillons, complained, and loaded up the mystery meat in sacks which my dad took with him to dillons to prove that we weren't lying. while i was at home clorox wiping the entire kitchen, he got two new, fresh breasts.......of turkey and all was right with the thanksgiving world.

STORY 2. for some reason when my mother's side of the family gets together for holidays, games tend to be involved. last year, was my mom's craze of "chicken foot" (aka dominos), and this year, is was "hoopla." of course, my grandpa and my dad spent a good 15 minutes figuring out how to set up the easel for which "some assembly was required" before we were able to play, but that's beside the point. the actual game is basically pictionary, and after we spent 10 minutes listening to my grandmother number everyone off and then start yelling at everyone for being on the wrong teams, we decided for a guys vs. girls game. us women should've seen it comin', but basically we got spanked (the men of course said that if they won, then the women would be cleaning up dinner and doing the dishes, which let's just be honest, was really their plan regardless of if they won or not). the highlight drawing (if you can call it high) was my 13 year old cousin's exceptional drawing of mahatma ghandi. the lowlight, yet mentionable drawings were as follows:

1. my grandmother's drawing of "the great wall of china" which, i'm not joking, looked exactly like this:





and what's even weirder is that my sister guessed it











2. my mother's drawing, after complaining for at least a good minute and 1/2 of our 3 minute time limit that she had no clue who this person was:




what? you can't figure it out either? it's bono. ya, that's right, the u2 lead singer, which my mom of course pronounced as bone-o when she asked "how the heck am i supposed to know who bono is?"







3. my grandmother - at it again. our clue was "who" (which meant it was supposed to be a person).

ya, um, we guessed, cowboy several times, oklahoma cowboy, boomer sooner, oklahoma state cowboys, rodeo clown, etc. anything we could come up with. that of course, was all wrong. it's not a lasso that the cowboy is holding - it's a guitar. like my grandma said "it's garth brooks - you know like when he smashes his guitar. i saw his show in oklahoma you know - if my dancing friends were here they would've guessed it."



hoopla. interesting game.


STORY 3. this is really a miniature tidbit to wrap up this post, but i just thought i'd better let it be known that the last comments coming out of my cousins and aunt/uncle were things like "grandma's needing some thongs" and "grandma's looking at thongs again." enough said.

happy holidays :)

flower pot's not goin' to the slammer

to get a letter from the state saying that you're illegally working and have basically committed a class B misdemeanor that is upon conviction, punishable as provided by law is not what you want to hear when you get home from work on a thursday after sitting through a 3 1/2 hour meeting where you only got to actually speak for about 10 minutes.

this is where i found myself yesterday though - holding the fateful letter, bursting into tears at the fear of what was ahead, already frantic because my bedroom door had been shut by someone (or something) other than myself and i had already caused a near hernia as i cussed at the doorknob and spent like 5 minutes before i was able to jiggle the knob just right and enter my crimson walled abode. the flood of emotions continued to pour as i told my wet, newly showered, in a towel roommate erin about her new convict roommate who she probably would be seeing for the last time because i thought i was either going to lose my job and not be able to pay rent, and/or was headed right for the state pen for 5-10. after some prayers, friends, pizza, finding out that clay on the apprentice was gay, and that zoe was in fact born in 1990 and had had several sexual partners, i lay awake until midnight worrying, my orange jumpsuit folded on the edge of my bed, ready to go (i just had one last finishing touch with the bedazzler left).

as i woke up this morning thoughts raced through my brain and i got to work at 10 after 7 - ready to face the guillotine. i stuck my head in the chopping block, prayed for the Lord to take me now, and picked up the phone....

keep reading because this is where my story takes a turn for the better (although i know that most of you were giddy at the thought of me in an orange one-sy and the very unlikely, but possible conjugal visits i was to receive)....

so, this all said, through a series of phone calls and emails, the state department of education lady is pulling some strings for me, and my supervisor and my head boss were completely understanding about the paper-work screwups that led to the infamous letter and assured me that i would not lose my job and would not be found in handcuffs on fox news tonight at 5, 6, and 10 (they had no way of knowing that i actually would be on the news tonight because i decided to strip down to my skibbes in front of some construction workers downtown). so, the bulk of the day's craziness should be over right?.....but not quite yet.

after hand delivering some documents downtown (this was after the skibbe incident of 2005), i proceeded to the gas station because of course, i was on empty. i had no idea that the the bp would bring me anything other than gas (the fuel for my car kind, mind you), but in addition, i was given the grand prize. a new nickname. there was a man walking around after i exited the station that yelled out to me, "hey flower pot! you're looking good today. are you going home already? would to like to have some new women's perfume?" i told him that i was on my way back to work (which i was actually happy about doing considering the day's events), and was not interested. flower pot, eh? this is a day that will live in infamy.

ma wuj....

ma wuj, ma wuj is what bwings us togetha today......

in having a discussion about marriage with a friend the other day, the comment was made - "i just wish i knew whether or not God has plans for marriage in my future. i mean, there's so many things that i would start doing now if i knew that i wasn't going to get married - like have sex."

"that is brand new information!" as phoebe would say. i had no idea this friend was so scandalous :)

...that dweam wifin a dweam.....

some quotes about marriage i decided to cite here:

The Japanese have a word for it. It's Judo -- the art of conquering by yielding. The Western equivalent of judo is, 'Yes, dear.' ~ J. P. McEvoy

Try praising your wife, even if it does frighten her at first. ~ Billy Sunday

An archeologist is the best husband any woman can have; the older she gets, the more interested he is in her. ~ Agatha Christie

I was nauseous and tingly all over. I was either in love or I had smallpox. ~ Woody Allen

The last time I was inside a woman was when I went to the Statue of Liberty. ~ Woody Allen

this great land of ours

so as to not disappoint my three (maybe 4) readers, i have decided to blog today with a mixture of stories from my past week.

1st: i had a conversation a couple of days ago with a student because when asked what the document was that dictated the laws and ideas of the country of the united states, he replied "the constipation." he did not know what constipation meant, and therefore, i got to explain it him. thank goodness, today in therapy he remembered his error of yore and laughed as he carefully said "the constitution."

dos: two of my co-workers have been trying to get me to go out and party with them on fridays after school. these two fellows last friday when asked what they were going to do said, "well, i'm going to go over and watch tim clean his apartment." tim added, "yes, i wear a full spandex body suit when i clean." needless to say, i did not participate in such viewing activities. on monday i asked tim how his cleaning experience was and he said that he cut the crotch out of his spandex outfit and then demonstrated how he sat around his apartment (he put a leg up on the desk and leaned back in his chair). disturbing (and yet funny). and these guys are educating the children of kansas city.

twee (as my little 2nd grade student would say): an unnamed member of my family was recently giving me suggestions about how to pick up guys. this person's suggestion was that i tell the guy that i need help with my car. when this guy comes and helps me, i attach jumper cables to his nipples and jump start him. huh?

God help me.

three wishes

God help her, my friend tiffany was talked into watching amy grant's new "hit" show "three wishes" in which amy apparently sets up a tent in hicksville, america and helps enrich people's lives by letting them become stewardesses for a day and take a bath in a crapload of spaghetti noodles (wait, that's the wrong show). with the exception of tiffany (thank Jesus), in a room of mutual friends, the tears apparently flowed like the salmon of capistrano, while some old lady became part of the mile high club and then sang with the grant-ster in a mini-concert which coincidentally accompanies every episode of the friday night television program. for those of you "baby baby" or "every heartbeat belongs to you" fans reading this blog, i would like to save you some time, and direct you to more appropriate sites, because this blog is not for you. i will not be participating in such activities as watching this show, holy and tear-jerking as i'm sure it is, and will continue to prefer mind boggling activities such as sleeping or sitting in silence. until next time then, here's some thoughts on wishes from my "friends" at despair.com, and i pray that you too will be singing the should-be hit theme song, "i'm amy grant in a bottle- come, come, come on and let me out."

i was all by myself

warning: this particular blog should not be viewed by those that cannot appreciate dirty humor. i originally published this without adding this disclaimer, but i was embarrasing myself just thinking about the rumors that would spread like the bird flu about me. proceed with caution, and please, do not judge. i did not set out to go this direction, but this is where it went.

as she peered inside the hole she knew not where her explorations would lead her. "carry on," she thought to herself, "it must be done." carefully, she expanded her mind and the opening which begged to be filled with something only she could offer. she inched her way in, taking a brief moment to stop and look at her surroundings, and was pleasantly pleased at what she saw. she continued to creep deeper into the dark void which lay ahead of her, pressing the edges of the boundaries of the space she occupied and traveling further still. after what seemed like eternity, she felt the end approaching and arrived at her destination, hot, gasping for air, her hair in her face. "is this really worth it?" she contemplated. she took a brief moment to rest, thoughts racing through her mind like a whirlwind, believing that in that moment she was as close to insanity as she would ever be. she continued her task, at a more brisk pace this time, trying to reach every nook and cranny and leaving no space untouched. just a little further....come on....she was growing weary now, and letting out a sigh of desperation, decided that her mission had been accomplished to the best of her abilities. she slowly backed out of the hole, and began to see the light of day. as she finally made her exit back to reality, she took in a deep breath and realized that she would need some help to conquer this elusive space the next time around....

okay, okay, you may be asking yourself "who is SHE and why did shalinn write about her?" another good question would be to ask yourself "what the heck is this hole that 'she' went in and am i going to need to pray for my soul when i find out?" well.....

to clear up any misconceptions, "she" is me, and "the hole" to which i crawled in yesterday afternoon was that of my duvet cover. that's right. i was putting my duvet cover over my comforter on my bed for the first time, and it was quite an experience. i bought new bedding (thanks to my non-paying sponsors at target) for fabulous clearance prices, and thus, last night, i had an amazing experience in bed (i had to say it - couldn't resist). my slumber was grand, and not inappropriate, which is more than i can say for this blog.

pushing the lines of what is socially acceptable to blog about.....
-me

names, bands, and BET

some would beg to ask "what's in a name?" and to them i reply with, "i hope absolutely nothing because probably everyone except my parents has botched my name at least once, and most people botch it on a regular basis - if my name is supposed to be representative of who i am, then i must be flailing around haphazardly like a seabass out of water because i have no official identity, as the various pronunciations of my name suggest". throughout my life i have been called a great many variations: shalinn (my actual name), SHAY-linn, shay-LEEN, shuh-LINN, shal (which i like), mal (which is my sister's nickname), shallee (which is reserved for the totsch whom i call mattee), shalipoo, shal-ba-gal, shuh-LINN gin, sha-naynay, and my personal favorite, shaniqwa (oh wait, no one calls me that - or at least i don't think they do....). case in point, the automated voice lady i talked to on the phone last night couldn't get it right when i not only pronounced it twice, but also spelled it twice. the following variations as repeated back to me were "shaleena - s.h.a.l.i.n.a" and "shalinn - s.h.a.l.y.n" needless to say, after what seemed like the 10th time of telling "her" she was wrong, she gave me another option and my identity was then claimed only through the means of that arbitrary set of numbers given to me to make sure that i am socially secure (even if my emotions are not - tear....).

but enough of the sob stories about the downfalls of my name (which i love by the way, and let's be honest is probably more original than your name). exciting news was brought to my attention sunday afternoon, just after i had sat down in my bathrobe to read my newspaper and smoke my pipe as i do on a fortnightly basis (oh wait, strike that) and i feel obliged to bestow this intense information to my readers. my name, yes, my name has been chosen to represent a musical group, otherwise refered to as "a band." "shalinn," the new hit sensation consisting of zach brown (guitar, vocals, blonde hair), megan mcadoo (guitar, sweet vocals, stelar personality), kristen lueck (cello, sparkling smile, bubbling reporter), and tim (percussion, radina's employee, man of mystery) is to debut it's newly decided name as they perform this friday in manhattan, ks (the magical home of the cats). i am much obliged as they embark on using my name in order to obtain some free coffee and bars, and play their little hearts out. rock out friends and although i'm honored that you arrived at this decision, please don't erase from your hearts all of the quality band name options that i gave you that you shut down.

and finally, on to the BET portion of this blog. this had nothing to do with my name, but did have to do with a brief argument between my students this afternoon regarding the names of an actress on BET. the argument: was it queen latifah or monique that played in barber shop? (or beauty shop - neither one of them really knew what they were arguing about). names. names. names. it's all relative to me.

'twas the best of times....

i would just like to document some of the hilarious questions/comments that my students made to me today:

"miss ginn, have you ever met 50 cent?"
"miss ginn, what's your favorite cd - the beastie boys?"
"miss ginn, he gonna make me act a fool up in here, up in here"

and one of my favorite conversations:

question: "are you gonna be 50 cent for halloween?" (says one student to the other)
answer: "no! i'm gonna be him in 2007." (says the other student)
question: "so what are you going to be this year?" (says me)
answer: "darth vader." (which the student says in a deep growly voice)

it's days like this when i love my job.

feelin' hot! hot! hot!

'twas not the most eventful of days, and i'm sorry to say that i do not have any funny student stories to share, nor intriguing tidbits of information to pass on to the bloggosphere society that is the 5 people that even know this blog exists. however, after working out for the last hour, i have a clear sense of at least knowing the current weather situation. two words: hot & stuck. the "hot" is self-explanatory, the "stuck" refers to the lack of air movement that made me either hallucinate or pretend as if i was roaming through the jungle with a machete chopping through the vast vegetation while looking for my next meal. the main downside - i have no large game to show for my efforts and i will have to resort to "price chopping" my way through the aisles in order to find anything worth eating. so, i'm off to conquer the beasts and penetrate my way through enemy lines. get behind me gordon schultz, i mean, satan.

background singers (as promised)

so i googled "background singers" and was pleased to see that the following hits came up. the first one was for gospelflava.com and an interview with queenie lenox. the second was a website requesting background singers for shows in las vegas. the third hit was siting a quote by della reese which mentioned the background singers of ray charles, smokey robinson, and barry white, and the 8th hit was talking about background singers for kanye west. other hits mentioned college courses at berkley for background singers, background singers needed on a uk website for christian artists, and a grammy website which was discussing the need for background singers to look their best. so, i have concluded the following: to be a background singer is not only important, but is also my christian/gospel obligation as is my obligation to be in las vegas shows, be concerned with fashion and education, sing with famous soul artists, and say such intelligent things as "bah dah bah dah, bah dah bah dah Bah dah bah dah, bah dah bah" when singing along with my kanye west compact disc. lots of responsibility if you ask me. and, with that long list of obligations i would say it is not only worth getting paid for, but it's definitely worth the effort.

the (not) first time, but many, i'm sure

i am capable of writing complete sentences - don't you worry. the title refers to the fact that this is my first of many thoughts on my blog. it's not my first time, but i haven't blogged in over a year, so for the one person (me) that's reading this now, there's my update (to myself).

so the question of the day is simply this, "is it weird that i'm eating cheez-its in my chicken noodle soup?" i've never done this sort of thing before, but i needed some extra change to buy a soda, so i bought the crackers out of the vending machine because that machine actually takes dollars. it's pretty tasty actually, so i guess my answer is either no it's not weird, or yes it is weird but i like it anyway so back off. side note: i also burned the poop out of my fingers with the hot soup today, so i have to smack myself for not bringing a hot pad with me to work. i'll wear an oven mit tomorrow.

well, i have approximately 4 minutes until i must see my next group of students for therapy, and so i will leave you now. tomorrow's question of the day will be "background singers: is getting paid to sing in phrases and hum really worth the effort?"