One Year Anniversary

I sit here tonight, writing this blog posting, one year later. It has been one year since I wrote my very first blog entry, ever. It's hard to believe an entire year has passed, but okay--for all of your sakes I will try to skip on the nostalgia portion of this blog, and instead wish myself a Happy One Year Blogging Anniversary. A lot sure can happen in the course of a year! In honor of this mini-milestone, I have compiled a list of my top ten highlights of this past year. Here we go, in no particular order--I hope you enjoy.

10. Seeing Jennie Garth and Shannen Dorhety reunite on screen and reprise their 90's alter egos, as Kelly Taylor and Brenda Walsh in the new 90210. It was a day I have been waiting fifteen years for, and just like in 1994, they are still the best of frenemies fighting over the one,
and the only--Dylan McKay.


9. I turned 25. I gotta say, I like it here--at 25. This has been a good, good year.


8. Vh1 airing The 40 Hottest Hotties of the 90's.


7. Meeting a slew of interesting boys who have made my blogs, well--more interesting. (Some of the most interesting boys have been left off, in fear that upon reading my blog, they will never speak to me again).


6. Visiting Camp Schodack this summer, with my Camp Schodack besties, dominating the My Place jukebox and literally loving life.


5. Miley Cyrus's Party in the USA. (If you say you don't like this song, I know that you're lying).


4. Meelzybabe introducing me to Greek yogurt. I will never be the same again.


3. Brent and Andy's visit to NYC. Trying to provide them with a really manly afternoon, but instead making them rate all of my outfits for the night on a scale from 1-10.


2. Discovering Pilates (Pilotties999).


1. Learning that if I remove all of my clothing, I am able to poop at work.


Here's to many more highlights in 2010!

2010 Hopes and Wishes

Each morning when my students enter the classroom, they take out their morning journal, and proceed to answer the question found inside. With winter vacation drawing near, and 2009 drawing to a close, my students answered the following question this morning, "What are your hopes and wishes for 2010?"

Here in no particular order are some of my students hopes and wishes for 2010.


"I hope for flying cars in 2010."

"I hope to eat more ravioli in 2010"

"I hope to meet R.L Stine" (Author of Goosebumps).

"I hope I get more games for my wii."

"I hope to become a champ at video games."

"I hope to have a magic wand."

"I hope that I learn to fly."

"I hope to get better at the monkey bars."

"I hope that all of my family members live until 2011."

"I hope I have a nice time in 2010."


My class is really deep.

:-)

A short tale that needs to be told.

Tonight I was on the phone with my friend Alex. As we were busy chatting away, I was getting an incoming call from my dad. The only times that my dad calls me are to a). tell me that I owe him money, b). to tell me that I owe him money, c). to tell me that I owe him money, and d). all of the above.

I'm only 85% telling the truth, my dad also calls to wish me a happy birthday, to ask my advice on Mother's Day gifts for my mom, and to send other merriment's my way. Tonight, when I picked up the phone, my dad sounded kind of frantic. My first instinct was that something was wrong--I was worried that something serious had happened, when he said these words, "Lauren. Help me. I'm new to texting, I received a message that I don't understand, and I'm not sure how to respond back to my friend."

Being the savvy 21st century daughter that I am, I told him to lay it on me, perhaps I could help. Here is what my dad said. "At the end of the text there was a colon, a dash, and a right parenthesis. "WHAT DOES THIS MEAN!?!"

Let me see here, a : a - and a )

Me: Dad, turn the phone sideways, mmhm, yes. What do you see, does it look like a happy face?

Dad: Yes, I'm an idiot--don't tell anyone about this. (Do all of you guys count?)

Oh, and if anyone else needs a texting tutorial, I would be more than happy to help :-)

School of Rock

The students in my class love music. Like, okay. That might sound like a boring, and even obvious statement. I mean, don't most people feel pretty okay about music? However, it is still hard for me to find the words to describe the sheer enthusiasm and joy that seems to overcome them when they hear music--and good music too. They are into John Lennon, Led Zepplin, The Clash and The Cure. (Granted I only listen to music from the early to mid-90's and whatever is playing on z100 at the moment). But, from what I've been told-- they appreciate good music none the less. I feel that their musical taste is mature, and I'm sure these artists have been subtle inflictions by their parents over the years. My students are very knowledgeable about their musical history too. Just yesterday, Adam and Henry asked me what it was like for me when Kurt Kobain died. (Um...Can I get away with, I was ten years old?)

Each day, as the school day draws to a close, my students beg me to play a song from my ipod or off of youtube. Usually, I take requests and play them straight from youtube. Their favorites being the ever popular 80's ballads; Eye of the Tiger, Bohemian Rhapsody, and We will Rock You. When these songs come on, watch out--they sing with a fury that is truly unleashed. It's heart warming at the very least.

Today was no different, only this time, a request from a 2009 surfaced--Empire State of Mind.
I decided to shuffle through my own ipod to find this song, when one of my students asked if he could see my ipod. Thinking that this was a harmless request, I said okay. But, that he could only scroll through by artist. (I couldn't let him see, titles such as "I'm in Miami Bitch, and Sex on Fire," now could I?) As he scrolled through my artist list, Adam realized something about me that the rest of you already know. The music on my ipod (thus the soundtrack of my life) appeals to that of an eleven year old girl. Adam looked down at my ipod, and looked back up into my eyes and simply said,"Miley Cyrus? You have got to be kidding me!" To which he followed with, "Hey everyone-- our 25 year old teacher has Miley Cyrus on her ipod."

Yes, Adam really said that. And as I found myself trying to defend myself to the likes of eight and nine year olds, I realized that there was no use. We are who we are, and if I'm eleven years old on the inside, well...that's me. Take me for what I am.

Arg.

When feeling stressed, the best remedy for me has always been to write and to rant. I suppose that I will kill two birds with one stone in my first December 2009 blog entry.

Let's see where to begin? Well, starting on December 21st, I will be enrolled in an online, undergraduate Earth Science course. The last time I took Earth Science, I was fourteen, and it was 1998. Britney Spears had just released her first hit song, Hit Me Baby One More Time. So, yes-- if that puts anything into perspective for you; it is that I am taking a course that I took almost twelve years ago. To say that I am annoyed by this is obvious, but this is all in effort to graduate from Pace University, with a masters degree come this May. Fingers crossed, I will be a grad school grad in just a few short months. I know it will be worth it in the end, but my god--what an annoyingly painful ride it has been.

There is more to rant and rave about, but instead I have to study for a math test that I am taking tomorrow. Oh ya know, just your average almost 26 year old, being tested on four years of highschool math. No big deal. Is it winter vacation yet?

You know you've made it when...

You know you've made it when, walking home early on a Sunday morning in your previous night's attire, (high heels in tow), a homeless man sitting on the street corner calls you a whore. I love you, New York City.

Tales of a Family Vacation

When I was a small child, I loved going on family vacations. I loved the mini-golf, the beach, and the restaurants. I loved my family of five sharing one hotel room. Mom and Dad in one bed, Heather and I sharing the other bed, and Jeremy on the cot, always. We were small children, and we all fit in this little room, feeling safe and secure with our parents right by our side.

Although, it's been quite a while since my whole family has been on a real "family vacation" I know that, those same feeling of love and closeness do not quite resonate the same way they did as when I was young. Any time in the last decade that we have all gone away together, my parents have one room, and the three of us kids have another. This arrangement has worked out just fine. Until this past weekend...

My whole family went to visit Heather at UMASS for the weekend. (Heather is better known in our family as Little Baby Fattface). I'm not quite sure why I nicknamed her that. But lucky for her, that nickname has stuck. Heather is not a baby, (she's 21). Nor does she have a fat face. In fact, Heather has the exact opposite of a fat face. She is little though, (in size) and she is the youngest in our family. We even made up a song about her called, "Little Baby Fatt Face" to the tune of Little Bunny Foo-Foo. (Also, when I say "we" I usually mean I).

Unfortunately Heather has contracted mono, for the second time. (Something that I thought was virtually impossible). Due to mono, Heather's neck has become quite swollen, and thus I referred to her as Little Baby Fatt Neck for the duration of the weekend. I'm a good sister, I know. And, I'm even a better sister for writing this here.

The original plan was for me and my older brother to stay at Heather's house at school, experiencing all that UMASS night life had to offer. Sadly, by the time night came, Heather was feeling really sick, and needed sleep. Subsequently, Jeremy and I decided that we would sleep at the hotel with our parents. (An aside: As, I sit here writing this, I am trying to remember the last time that I shared a hotel (or any other kind of) room with both of my parents. I'm going to go ahead and say that most likely that occurred sometime in the '90's.) I ADORE my family. Sometimes I can't get enough of them, I am lucky to feel this way about them. However that being said, I am pretty sure that I never need to share a hotel room with them for the rest of my adult life, and here is why.

The hotel had run out of cots. This meant that I would be sharing a bed with Mom (Little Mimi), and Jeremy would be sharing a bed with my dad. (Craig David). God forbid I share a bed with my dad or my brother. This was all well and good, until my parents were ready to shut out the lights and go to sleep at 10:30 pm. I realize that they are older, and had this been a weeknight, I would have been dead asleep. But, this was Saturday night,and there was no possible way that I would be able to fall asleep that early.

It was around this time that the farting kicked in. My dad who passed out almost immediately, began to fart. Loudly. In his sleep. Then the snoring started. He was a disgusting noisy machine. My brother, (Jeremy) had had it. He decided that sleeping on the floor would be better than being exposed to the lingering fart stench and surround sound snoring. For the next half hour, my mom (who felt bad that my almost thirty year old brother was on the floor) was trying to convince him to sleep in the bed with my dad. When he absolutely refused, she invited him in the bed with us. I have to draw the line there. It was already a little tight with just my mom and I sharing a double bed. There was no way that I would stand for another human male (my brother) to join us in that bed. Finally, my brother and I both told my mom (in a nice way) to shut up. He's 29. If he wants to sleep on the floor, that's his prerogative, ok? Shortly after, my mom drifted off to sleep, and guess what I learned about her? You guessed it! She snores too. Loudly. I woke her up, and told her that she was snoring (which she denied). She fell back asleep, and the snoring started up again. I looked at the clock. It was 11:01.

I have a lot of allergies. Dogs, cats, bees, wasps, hornets, (epipen, baby), seasons, grass, dust...

I'm also allergic to down. (The blanket/pillow material). I have faux down blankets/pillows in my room, but they are missing the real down ingredient. Guess what? The bedding was completely down. (Even the nasty top sheet that's usually reserved for pubes). Just as my mom had fallen asleep, I started to develop an allergic reaction to the down. I began to itch. BAD. I was scratching every inch of my body that was covered by the down. It's pretty hard to vigorously scratch yourself without waking someone sharing a bed with you. Needless to say, between the farting, the snoring, and the perpetual itching, it was a pretty restless night for all of us. When we all woke up the next morning (at SEVEN AM!!!) My mom said, "This was really fun! We should all go on a real family vacation soon!" Lauren, Jeremy--What do you think?"

Silence. and Silence.