fat or thin? and true confessions

well, first thing's first....

i probably should issue a public apology to my roommate and good friend tiffany for plagiarizing her masterpiece theatre-esque writing ability and copying her fine work and posting it on my blog, not once, but twice. although i will not reveal any names, i will say that two strapping lads put me up to it after i told them that i hadn't blogged for a while due to a lack of creativity and original thought. and, i guess i should also admit that multiple people were involved in making sure that tiff's posts would receive more comments on my blog than on her own, and well, that plan clearly succeeded. i feel very blessed to have such deceitful friends :) i did think it was weird that tiff would openly admit (through her comments) that she thought her own writing was crap and that she would say of her own thoughts "what the hell?" but then again, if you can't look at yourself and think "what the hell?" you're probably taking yourself too seriously.

next true confession - i had a truffle shuffle concrete at sheridan's tonight and it was flippin' amazing. i am a huge fruit with chocolate combination fan, but blackberries and chocolate truffle chunkits in vanilla custard? bow wow. nice dish. bow wow, delish! bulge - is that you?!

now, on with the show.................................

so today i wore my glasses for the first time in quite a while. i have day & night contacts which last for a month, but since i needed to switch out my contacts, i opted to wear my classy spectacles today. a picture of me (obviously) is below.



now, there is not much to say - or so i thought, until my friend/coworker tim made some well, interesting observations, that i must open up for opinion. so, first thing this morning when i pick up a couple of his students, tim tells me that i look smart (and i was thinking, that's because i AM smart). that comment was perfectly understandable. however, at lunch today, tim makes the comment that my glasses make my head look bigger, no wait, not bigger he corrects, thinner. so which one do you think it is? he then of course tried to say something about how he noticed the sides of my hair more, whatever that means. so, check out my sides. what you do you think?

now, if he would've said that i was sexy with my glasses on, i would have number one, said "ya right" or "you know that's sexual harassment and i don't have to take it," but at least i could've agreed with his assessment. i mean, going along with the true confessions part of this post, i do have to admit that i kind of hoped to look sexy with the whole i'm wearing glasses with my hair pulled back and wearing a blazer thing. i mean, there's probably a lot of stripper acts that start out that way. well, if not a lot, at least the strip show i put on in my room every night starts that way. was that crossing the line? tiff wouldn't think so. and thus this post comes full circle, end scene.

I'll Cry if it Saves Me Money...

I can never talk my way out of tickets, ever. Unfortunately, I have the sometimes pain in the ass characteristic of telling it how it is. The inability to lie or cry when it would be most lucrative. So I find myself saying things like. "Yeah I know why you pulled me over. I was speeding." Very matter-of-factly, with very little emotion. Well, I got pulled over...again. I was so pissed off I started crying (because it is the 3rd time I have gotten pulled over for going 36 in a 25 when I didn't know I was in a 25.) Guess who didn't get a ticket for speeding?

I have compiled a list of things that do and do not work when trying to talk your way out of tickets (most are things I have actually witnessed or used)...

Do...(obviously a lot fewer of the dos because I always get the ticket)

1. be honest, and a good conversationalist. My mom once talked her way out of 5 tickets in a month because she told the truth, and within seconds had the officer chatting up a storm. One of those times she was with my girl scout troop. She was taking us to the prison, and you better believe she had that officer engaged in conversation about the jail.

2. If you actually have tears coming, use them to your advantage.

3. If you see the opportunity to flirt, do. (Sorry men, this may not be the best solution for you)

4. Stay calm. Even if you are crying this is crucial.


Do Not...

1. Get so upset you are crying but not breathing and wailing but not talking. It is a ticket, not an injection of deadly poison.

2. Get out of your car and start running. Specifically if you are a man in a thong leopard print leotard. Ick to the nth degree. Things I don't need to see, there are lots of them in that scenario.

3.Try and argue your way out of the ticket. For instance:
Cop: Do you know why I pulled you over?
Perp: Because you are either blind or can't read your radar gun...
Cop: You were going 50 in a 20, sir/ma'am.
Perp: No I wasn't. The road was slippery and I was on a hill. My brakes weren't working, and I think I am coming down with the flu so my eyes are really itchy.
Cop: Yes you were, and it's 85 degrees and dry, how was the road slippery?
Perp: oil spill? *wink*

4. wink

5. Get so pissed off you have to be tasered.



p.s. For those of you who gave really great input on the last post I have chosen not "nauty codpiece, " but ROLLICK for the name of my line. Thanks for all your really thoughtful input. It was really, um, well not at all helpful actually. It did make me laugh though. An update on all things rollick to come within the next couple days.

The reason I am not an "inventor"

There is a reason my creativity is being harnessed in the wonderful industry of insurance. It is because when I come up with ideas for new things, inventions if you will, they are absolutely horrible. Today my idea's were centering around some sort of board game. A game that asks what celebrity had a propensity for what drug. (I know, I know I'm kinda playin it fast and loose with the word invention.) Questions would read something like this. Which child star's boredom in her early 20's led to her addiction to Methamphetamines? Ding Ding Ding Who is Stephanie Tanner. CCCOORREECCCTT! And then there would be information about that drug on the back of the playing card. For instance "This drug is the reason you can't get any Friggin' sudafed when you go to target at 9 pm and the pharmacy is closed." Who doesn't want to play that game? I think it sounds like at least 5 minutes of fun. Alright not really, but it is informative. We all know how well informative games sell. Maybe there could be a whole line of Warning games. The perils of alcohol. Different types of STD's. Ahhh. (That's a scream not Aww how cute those kitties would be if I stuck them in the blender...sorry Amy) Flashbacks to 8th grade and the co-ed slide show viewing of real life STD's. Talk about scare tactics. Making 13 year olds view stranger's sickly special places in a room with the opposite sex, NOT NICE!! I was a very shy girl then, I could barely spread a rumor let alone herpes. So no STD game. I will spare those pre-teens with parents who want to talk about sex with them in a "cool" way the pain. Instead I will invite them to any family event with me. They think talking to their parents about sex isn't fun try my grandma. Talk about fun, I got your fun right here.

is it buck naked, or butt naked?

This is my first guest blog/interview. Welcome Erin.

-Hi Shalinn, how's it hangin'?

Don't ask me that. I'm not a dude. So, well, um, I hear that you've had quite the rounds in the boxing ring that is your dating life. Care to share a few of the punches with my reading audience?

-Sure. Damn it's good to be here. Wow, thanks no, stop clapping everyone. So you might say that I have a few dating troubles. Trouble is I meet the cream of the comb-over crop, who take the suggestion of using accurate words a little to far. Here is a list of the Mike Tyson's I've dated, all in code names to protect their anonymity, but just check out www.erinsbaddates.net for the full list of names, addresses, and some really funny jokes.

-Round 1: Aorta boy.
This date didn't start going bad until I opened the door. I didn't realize I had taken a time machine in the hair department back to 1985. His first question to me, "Do you like Flock of Seagulls?" and I said, "No, but I can see that you do." It was a sweeping long bang thing starting from the crown of his head coming forward almost over his eyes, and in the back a long greasy stick-to-the nape of the neck mullet. As Tiffany said, "It was the freakin' weirdest thing I've seen." So his hair was weird, forgivable, but them came the talking. And then in a moment where awkward silences can get the best of us, He pulls out a little something he learned that week in medical school. Yeah I thought it would be cool to date someone that was going to be a doctor, NOPE. He started thumping on his chest with his palm over his heart, his eyes far off thinking. I kind of just stared, wondering what the hell he could possibly be thinking about. How much he loves me already? Is he about to read poetry in a breathy whisper? How am I going to tell pelican man I don't want his love poetry or whispers? Well I didn't have to worry about that, turns out he was searching for some Aorta phenomena. Deal closed. Take me home and leave me there.

Shock me doctor, I think my heart's stopped. Any other medical mysteries at the big show?

-Round 2: contender: obgyNO
Another doctor in training. This one was in his third year, meaning doing his rotations and therefore more familiar with anatomical parts. Clearly the desensitation rituals of med school had not only worked but exceeded anyone's expectations. He was doing his Gyno rounds and didn't hesitate to fill me in on the gory details. It wasn't....pleasant. I think the dealbreaker was the moment he used the phrase "separate the labia". I crossed my legs.
I stupidly gave him a second date. One chance to redeem his verbal offenses. It was at the end of the date, when the argument occurred. That right there, (a fight on the second date) probably an indicator that this one wouldn't go the distance. The following exchange took place:
me: "I like salsa dancing"
him: " God sends dancers straight to hell and makes them whip baby seals with electrical cords."
Okay he didn't say that, but he definitely made it clear that dancing was a SIN!!!
me: "But dancing is so fun!"
him: "Sex is fun."
him:"Okay I'll call ya..."
Never got that phone call.

Did you really want a phone call from him? I wouldn't want a man that functions similarly to a leather bustiere - you know, it lifts and separates. Any more doozies?

-Round 3: Contendor: Mister I have less personality than a bar of soap
Not much to report. Unless you want to hear about no conversation. Date etiquette typically indicates a man should escort his date to her car if he did not drive her. Let's just say he walked to a car, just not mine, and not with me.

-Round 4: Contendor: He's no Maverick
Attraction: yes. Reciprocal: yes. Good conversation: YES. Bastard: Without a damn doubt.
The only thing notable. I got hit in the face with a frisbee about 3 hours before the date causing me to appear as if I had a run in with a syringe of collagen...it won. Melanie Griffith watch out.

Seems like if these guys were into reality t.v., they'd be on "The Biggest Loser." Where's Courtney to sing the fake-karaoke Cher themesong when you need her? Anyway, I'd like to thank you Erin for being on my blog, and I'd like to give a shout out to tonight's sponsor: Tiffany Matalone. Big surprise there, eh? Ginn, out.

quoteables

"i gotta use it real bad!"

"my grandpa was driving real fast. we listened to music. like kanye west. i ain't sayin' she a gold digger."

"i feel like i keep hitting only red lights. the red lights of my life."

"no! tell me before the fire alarm goes off so i can cover my ears. (covers ears) is it going off yet?"

"i didn't get to eat breakfast this morning. can i have some candy?"

"that your sister? UH! she fine...."

"why you got a cd on the wall? (points to my dry erase board)"

"how do you make my watch spin around faster?"

"i wouldn't need a tutu - i'd need a four-four."

"on friday the 13th, me and jane ann would like for you to come with us after school......oh, and we're going to the 75th street brewery."

Jesus - is that you?!

So I was laying in bed the other night thinking about the last year and what was or was not accomplished. I also got to thinking about my life and how my thoughts on Christ and who He is has changed in 2005. I realized among other things, that a big desire for my life was to become more like Christ each year that I live, and I have to admit that I question how I've become more like Him this last year. I've learned so much this year about myself and how I see Christ and God, but can I say that I've become more like Him?

So, I guess mostly for my own benefit, I'm going to "journal" about three lessons I've learned, and see if I've let those lessons change me more into Christ-likeness.

Lesson #1: If you believe satan's lies long enough, you'll start thinking of them as truth from God.

One year ago, coming off of the toughest time in my life in graduate school, I was at my life's lowest, thanks mostly to the fact that I thought that my failures and struggles with schoolwork and the intense fear that I lived in was God's will. In turn, I believed that I was a failure for Christ because my struggles and lack of success were not going to to be a beacon of light to anyone, and were not going to allow other people to see Christ in me. What I learned was that the guilt and shame that I felt as a result of my failures were not what God wanted to show me, and that being open and honest about my struggles could have the potential to show God even more to people than my successes.

Lesson #2: I've got to ask for help when I need it, and sometimes even when I don't.

Asking for help includes asking God, asking authority figures, asking peers, and asking those that are younger than me. I've been fighting with my independence my whole life, and still struggle greatly with it to this day. I want to be self-sufficient and figure things out on my own to such a great degree that I don't always utilize my resources of God and others. I fear that asking for help will make me look lazy, incompetent, not confident in my abilities, etc. and because I at least want to appear to be "good" at what I do, I don't ask for the support that I often need. I've at least started to learn to pray for even little things, and to not be afraid to ask for prayer when I need it because it can not only benefit me, but also allow God to be used through the body of believers which is of benefit to His kingdom and those who graciously choose to bear my burdens. Asking people for their help is an area that's even harder than me asking God, but I'm slowly learning that asking instead of assuming or doing things myself often saves time and can better insure the quality of whatever it is that I'm doing. Authority figures are in (or at least should be in) authority because they have a greater knowledge than I do, and they're there so that I can learn from their knowledge. If they get annoyed from me asking them questions, that's more often their problem and not mine. Even when things are going well, it doesn't hurt to check in every now and again, and ask for assistance when it's not necessarily needed - I've learned that you can learn things better when you have to teach them, and letting people be the gift of a teacher, no matter their age or status can be very impowering to that person teaching.

Lesson #3: God is good, and so are His gifts.

This seems like a given, but being a person that tends to see their own short-comings to a far greater degree than the goodness of God, it's profound to me. Because of my personal world and self-views, I like to think that what I do and don't do has an affect on how God views me and how He loves me, but that really isn't true. I kept trying so hard to better myself and linked my acceptance in God's eyes with my abilities and successes so closely that I ended up having a warped view of how God sees me. I learned a great deal about grace and God's love for me, and though I realize that God's grace does not mean that He's not going to care if I sin, He is going to love me regardless. I hold onto sins for a much longer period of time than God does, and realizing this has freed me in so many ways. I'm still learning that God wants good things for me, and that He wants to give me those good gifts. It's a positive exercise for me to think about the good gifts He's given me, and so here's some highlights of that goodness this year: coming out of depressioin, finishing graduate school, getting a job that pays the bills, getting a new, running car that's far nicer than any i've ever had before, moving to KC, Christ Church and the opportunity to be a part of a small group/part of the worship team/Alpha, my roommates, snow days, the Walnut Valley Festival and friends to share it with, oh, and seeing that guy standing in a towel in his living room (as I was driving by a random house - it was pretty funny - not gonna lie).......

The "Christ-like" factor/what these lessons have shown me: I guess I've for the first time in my life started to really appreciate the human side of Christ and not just his diety. I have a greater heart to know the struggles of others, I recognize that everyone has struggles and lies they believe, and I've experienced the grace of God to such a great degree that I really feel like in many ways, I've learned it for the first time. I want non-Christians and Christians alike to see and receive this truly free gift that will change the way that they view themselves, others, and God. If I let these things help me to love others more, and reach out to those that are hurting (which let's just be honest, is everyone), then maybe I can take what I learned in '05 and let it mold me more into an apprentice of Christ in '06. I don't know how much I let that happen in the last year, but I hope that I will be able to see progress in the future. I still have a ton of issues to work out, but I have to try and let myself be changed more into His image, and realize that He loves me and loves the fact that I'm trying, even if my efforts aren't up to His or my standards.

Peace and grace to all my readers......and a life-giving new year! Now to Him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to His power that is at work within us, to Him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen.

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.