The Best Friend/Cat Pee Post

Well. My guest co-blogger is asleep on the couch next to me.  She said, "Claire. Let's write a blog, but I have to close my eyes while we do it."

Swell.

Anyway, if you can't tell, I'm spending the weekend in the great city of Indianapolis with my best friend, doing what we do best: laying on the couch, talking to each other in weird accents, watching Sex and the City and making great plans to do stuff, but then being too lazy to actually do them.  We have also spent a considerable amount of time making  videos of ourselves lip syncing to Mariah Carey Christmas songs and leaving them on people's facebook walls.  I know we're supposed to be adults with jobs and junk...but the maturity thing has never really worked out for us.

Ahh. There's my sleeping angel. For the record, she's snoring a little. 

Last night I had a dream Melissa got married and then refused to pay the church to get married there.  Then she put everyone who came to her wedding on a school bus and made the bus follow her around the city (she was running...not driving) while she tried to find a new place to get married.  She ended up deciding on the driveway of a girl that used to live in our dorm in college.  She has always had excellent taste.  I spent the entire dream chasing her...I woke up tired and shockingly...this is not as far from reality as you would hope for the girl.  I could see it happening.  

Also.  A quick Owen update for you.  

He peed on my Kindle.  Apparently he's stressed and is acting out by peeing on things.  So far he's ruined: 

- My Kindle

- My new tote bag

- A book I borrowed from someone

- His basket that he used to sleep in

- Maybe more stuff that I don't know about yet.  

I took him to the vet to get a handle on this situation and make sure his bladder wasn't exploding.  He did not handle himself like a gentleman...that is for sure.  I have never seen a cat get so mad in my life.  We're talking hissing, spitting, screaming...the whole bit...it was not pretty. Fortunately, I got him some kitty prozac that comes in the form of an air freshener you plug in the wall.  We'll see how it works/ if I'll come home tomorrow to a cat pee infested apartment.  It's absolutely disgusting and we are going to have to kick this habit quickly.  

That's all I've got for you today friends.  Have a happy week before Christmas! Good luck in your preparations.  Personally, I have a long way to go...but it will all get finished in the end.  

Peace, Love and Don't change your cat's litter or he will get Madddd, 

Claire

For My Mom

Today is my mom's birthday.  I won't tell you her age because you aren't supposed to do that...although I've never known her to get weird about that stuff. I'll give you a hint: the number is less than the number of elements on the periodic table. (She will appreciate that, very few others will)  Now. This could easily turn into a sappy post about the greatness of my mother.  I would tell you about how wonderful she is for praying for my future husband and sending me encouraging notes with bible verses in them, and really nice cards that detail how wonderful of a daughter I am, but none of that would be true and I wouldn't be writing it...because I wouldn't like my mother.  However, I am going to share with you the reasons I really do love my mom.

1. As a child, my mother (and father for that matter) consistently lied to me.  For example, "Claire, we're going to the lima bean factory for lunch. Is that okay with you?" I hate lima beans.  As a three year old this sent me into a rage the first time it happened.  After that, I got wise to the ways of the world and told her she was full of it.  So all those kids in this video (which I still maintain is the most hilarious Youtube video of all time) clearly did not have parents like mine...because we would have laughed and said "fork it over." What this taught me: Don't trust what people tell you. Figure it out for you yourself when you're pulling up to McDonalds and not the non-existant lima bean factory.

2. My mom has excellent taste in greeting cards.  In college, all my friend's moms would send the standard greeting cards that said daughter on them in script and then proceeded in a poem about how beautiful and smart she was.  My mom sent me a card that had a picture of a bunch of people square dancing screaming profanities (they were bleeped out of course) and underneath it said, "Hey! It's your birthday! Have some fun and Swear Dance!" Bahahahaha.  It was even more hilarious because my college outlawed dancing.  She has a real knack for picking out cards that are borderline really inappropriate, but not quite.  I consider it one of her greatest talents and I think she would too.

3. Recently my mom was talking about one of the great memories we had together.  It was when I skipped school my senior year of high school to go out and eat pie with her.  What other mother do you know that would say one of her favorite memories was when she encouraged you to skip school? Slim to none friends, slim to none.

4. My mother is the single most organized person I've ever met.  Her spices in her spice rack are alphebetized.  She keeps a spread sheet of the stuff she's getting people for Christmas with a different highlighting color for when it's purchased and another color for when it's wrapped.  Sometimes she also keeps a spread sheet to keep score when we play Phase 10.  I should be more like her.

5. I became taller than my mother around 6th grade and I've probably outweighed her since I was in first grade. However, the woman still had the ability to scare the crap out of me long after that, which is awesome. I'll be honest, I still wouldn't cross her. I firmly believe that all children should have a healthy fear of their parents. It makes you too scared to mess up your life too badly. One reason my brother, sister and I have never been caught doing anything horrific that you hear about teenagers and young adults doing is because we're scared of the wrath and fury that can be Martha Pat Kinney. If you've ever met my mother, and you aren't Haley, Ross or myself...you probably don't believe me on this one.

Now I know there are a lot of people out there that may be offended by this next statement, but, you feel the same way about your own mother..so here it is, I'll just throw it out there.

My mom, is most definitely better than your mom. 

Happy Birthday Mom! You're the best mom around, if only for the fact that you know better science jokes than anyone I know.

Love,
Claire

My Students Today

Today my kids had a science project due. 

Apparently I'm a little repetitive because yesterday I had this conversation with my second hour.

Me: "Alright guys, when is your project due?"
Kids: "Tomorrow!"
Me: "And what happens if you don't turn one in?"
Kids: "We fail 8th grade!" (not true...for the record...but an excellent bargaining chip.  I love lying to kids.)
Student: "And you aren't kidding!"

Okay. I guess in hindsight everyday for the last month I've said, "Your science project is due December 14th, if you don't do it, you fail 8th grade and I'm not kidding!"

I'm glad I'm at least leaving an impression somewhere.  Also. In case you were wondering, this technique works.  I only had 3 kids who didn't turn in projects...which compared to the 36 that didn't turn in one last time...I am feeling like a pretty proud teacher.

Also.  I got my second Christmas present of the season from students.  8th graders are not notorious for their gift giving...I mean...they aren't little kids anymore and they have 4 teachers, so usually I don't get much.  However,  today one of my boys presented me a nicely wrapped box.  I open it an there is a nice looking box, I'm thinking candle, metallic apple, some standard teacher present.  False.  Jar of Peanut Butter.  I died laughing.  My kids know that I love peanut butter and eat it pretty much every day for lunch, so he wrapped a jar of peanut butter.  Hahahahha.  This kid is the best.  He even looked at the kind of peanut butter I eat and got me the same kind. 

I love my job almost everyday, but today I love it a whole lot. 

Peace, Love and Jiff,
Claire

10 Fascinating Friday Facts

1. I have had some killer student conversations this week.  Here are a few of them:

"Um. Wait. You mean Indiana isn't in Kentucky?"

"Um. Ms. Kinney, he wants me to ask you if you're wearing pajama jeans."

Girl comes up to me, grinning ear to ear.

Me: You're awfully smiley. What's up?
Girl: Nothing. (continues to just stand in front of me smiling...she literally has me pinned against the wall and just smiles.)
Me: I doubt that. You look like you have the face of a girl who has something good going on with a boy. Spill.
Girl: Well. I have a boyfriend.
Me: Did this just happen between first and second hour?
Girl: Yes.
Me: Congrats. Who is it? Do I know him?
Girl: Yes. He's on our team it's BoyX
Me: Oooh. Well congratulations, but you two seem pretty different...
Girl: Yeah. He's really quiet.  Actually he doesn't talk at all...but I talk a lot so it's okay...actually it's kind of awkward...

2. Well. This happened.  I should be a little ashamed that I have let my nerd status get this far advanced...but...oh well.

Yeah. That's a comic book you see there...that's volume 1...I am currently on volume 3. Yeah. Maybe I asked for comic books for Christmas.

3. I'm pretty sure I've launched too far into nerddom to ever see the light of day again.  A few Friday's ago, I spent the evening watching a documentary about Sabertooth Tigers and learning binary code.  I wish, desperately, that I was kidding.  

4. Last weekend I took my 6th grade academic team to a showcase specially for 6th graders. There were 7 schools there. We won. Boo. Yah. 

5. A kid at the academic team competition told me I didn't look like I should be reading comic books. I told him I liked to defy expectation.  He asked me what that meant...

6. I think I am the Bobby Knight of academic coaching.  I just get really intense and sometimes feel the need to throw chairs.  I try to tone it down for the kids, but inwardly I'm going nuts.  

7. I redeveloped a nice little illness this week.  Hello, sinus/ear infection, nice to see you.  I felt like death.  My students told me I looked pale, (which to a group of people who are constantly tan via tanning bed/spray tan, is a real insult) we all had fun.  On the upside I saw my real life doctor who never once asked me if I was possibly pregnant like this guy. 

8. Do you know the Chemistry Cat? If not. You should here's why: 

BAHHAHAHAHAHA! If you don't get it...consult your periodic table. 

9. I'm thinking of taking this blog public.  AKA. Getting my own .com.  Too soon? Too arrogant? Time will tell my friends, time will tell. At some point your have to get drastic in your quest for blog fame. 

10. My mom and I went to a basketball game tonight. The weird man sitting next to her spent the entire games showing her pictures on his phone of his friends and telling her bizarre stories about how he got his hat from a golf caddie.  The woman in front of us was so into the game she refused to sit down the entire game and was going nuts with the cheering...and then she left with 2 minutes to go. I also spent a lot of time gazing into the abyss that was the man in front of me's butt crack as he stood up and sat down about 89 times, mostly to pass his kid back and forth. There are some days I wonder why half the world is Coo Coo for Cocoa Puffs. 

Peace, Love and a Happy Weekend, 

Claire

A Conversation With My Sister

There are a lot of reasons I love my sister.  However, this conversation may be the kicker.

Haley: You know what I think is really weird? When people give their unborn babies nicknames, like bump or peanut.  You know what I think is even weirder? When people make shirts that point to their belly with that name on it. Or when people compare them to fruit. 

Me: I agree. 

Haley: I mean, why not just call the baby what it is? Fetus.  Or in the earlier stages, blastula.  You could even call it blasty for short.  Cute right?

Me: Or you could just go with wad of cells.

Haley: Perfect.  If you ever get pregnant I'm making you a shirt with arrows pointing that says "wad of cells."

Me: Knowing you you'll make mine on a wife beater with sharpies instead of a cute colored t-shirt with puff paint.

Haley: No I wouldn't, I'd make it cute. In fact, I really want to do that...you have to get pregnant. 

Me: No, you get pregnant so I can make the shirt.

Haley: No.  I've never understood why people do that anyway, babies are a pill.

Me: Agreed.

Mom, nice work raising two career and education focused girls... but it may be a while on the grandchildren.

I Might Be a Felon...

Well.  It's been an eventful night around these parts, and I probably shouldn't be blogging about these events quite yet, but it's too hilarious not to.  I am quite pleased with myself, although I probably won't be when I get arrested.

Here's what went down.

My dear friend Kathy and I decided that we needed to partake in some tacos and queso at a fabulous restaurant that happens to be located on the University of Kentucky's campus.  We forgot that there was a basketball game (for which most of the city actually shuts down)  and that subsequently parking would be a nightmare as would driving or walking or any form of transportation that doesn't involve moving at a snail's pace in a sea of blue and white.

So. I did it.  I pulled an illegal and parked in a student parking lot so that I could get some tacos, all the while, thinking to myself, "eh. It's after 7, they won't be checking the lots for permits." Kathy even rings in with, "Yeah, I've parked here a hundred times and never gotten a ticket." Excellent. Taco time.

After some delightful tacos, which seriously people, if you are ever around a Local Taco...you for real need to try them, we head back to the car where I am hit with this burst of Christmas joy:

That's right. $25 made payable to the University of Kentucky parking people (not really the people part, but I actually did not read it closely enough to see who to make the check out to).  

Well, you're talking to the girl who has a $23 library fine currently and rather than pay it, chooses not to check out books.  I'm pretty sure I also have a similar situation at the Gas City public library in Indiana, but since I never plan to check out books again from there...I consider it a moot point.  Basically, there wasn't an ice cube's chance in my grandma's thanksgiving ready oven of me paying that ticket.  Also. I googled it, they can't do anything to you until you have at least 6 unpaid tickets and then they will tow your car and since I'm not a student at UK they can't threaten me with held transcripts or not graduating or my first born or anything along those lines.  I planned to throw it away. Until this happened:

Remember that UK game I mentioned? Well, I happen to live within prime walking distance of Rupp Arena where they play and if I don't hunker down in my parking spot behind my apartment, butt heads like these losers will take my spot and force me to find street parking and semi risk my life walking back to my apartment in ball game traffic.  Needless to say I was a little peeved.  I considered having them towed, but really the game was almost over and they would be gone by the time the tow truck got here.  So instead, I did this: 

I figure the worst thing that could happen is that UK actually gets their 25 bucks if these people are stupid enough to realize they aren't in the car described on the ticket. Which they could be, considering they were stupid enough to park in a private residential lot.  

All in a day's work my friends, all in a day's work.  

Now. Be a doll and don't rat me out.  

Peace, Love and Delinquency, 

Claire

It's Cliche, I Know...

Happy Thanksgiving, one and all!

I plan to spend the day eating fabulous food (TWO thanksgiving meals...oh yes...) with fabulous people and generally being thankful.

I thought in the spirit of a fabulous holiday (although many would accuse me of bypassing Thanksgiving for Christmas), I would show my appreciation and love by making a post dedicated to the things in this world I am thankful for:

1. My Family: who genuinely likes to be around each other and who prefers to face the world with humor rather than sap or anger.  It's made life much more fun.

2. My Friends: who understand me, who are always there for me, who will act ridiculous with me and laugh at me, even when my jokes aren't funny, because they know I need it.

3. My Owen: my now 17 pound baby, who bites my face every morning and knocks everything off of every surface.  It just doesn't get better than that.

4. My Job: it's a good one, with good people and generally I really like being there.  You just can't ask for more than that.

5. My Students: who keep me constantly entertained, laughing and challenged and who also teach me a thing or two from time to time. For instance, did you know that you can go cat fish fishing with your bare hands? Apparently it's called noodlin'. Sounds like a party.

6. My Church: who I firmly believe is doing the will of God and striving everyday to be the way churches were intended to be.

7. My Sense of Humor: I've discovered lately there are a lot of people walking around the world without one and that is just sad.  Calm down world and laugh a little bit, even if it's not absolutely hilarious, you will thank yourself later.

8. The Beginning of the Christmas season: because contrary to my mother's beliefs, it is the happiest time of the year. Although, I'll be honest, I refuse to recognize Black Friday as any variety of occasion. I will spend the day tucked in bed until a reasonable hour, then I'm going to the comic book store's post-Thanksgiving sale to try and start my X-Men readings. Chew on that people who ruin Christmas with their commercialism!!

Well that's all I have today folks, sorry I have no excellent Thanksgiving tales to tell you, but it is always good to spend some time thanking God for the blessings in your life...because today it's especially important to remember that our lives are not extraordinarily average when compared to the rest of the world, rather we are extraordinarily blessed.

Peace, Love and the Macy's Parade,
Claire

10 Fascinating Facts About Claire

Apparently Friday is list day around blog land. So I thought Hey, why not join in the fun.

So here we go, ten random facts about Claire L. Kinney, blogger extraordinaire, for the week.

1. Yesterday I drove to Bath County, Kentucky.  It was as hillbilly as it sounds. 
2. Yesterday I drove to Bath County, Kentucky for an academic team coaches meeting.  It was as nerdy as it sounds.
3. Sometimes when I hear a baby crying in a store I get so mad I feel rage in my stomach. 
4. I don't like babies. If I ever have children, I think I will adopt a 5 year old that will agree to having its name changed. 
5. I have a file folder in my desk drawer at school labeled Rando Crap.  It is really full. 
6. I haven't cooked a meal for myself in at least 3 weeks.  I'm still living on the leftovers of a casserole I made at that time.  It was giant. 
7.  I drew a moustache on my mirror with dry erase marker because it makes looking in the mirror more entertaining.
8.  I'm obsessed with The Biggest Loser.  I've watched two seasons in the last week, in addition to keeping up with the current season.
9.  Watching The Biggest Loser should inspire me to work out...it doesn't.  Instead I find it hilarious to eat something really unhealthy while I watch.  I think I'm missing the point.
10.   I've decided I need to read the X Men comics because I find them fascinating.  After doing some research I've discovered it's going to be more complicated than expected. Apparently you can't just start at #1.  I want to go to a comic book store, but I'm afraid they'll judge me. 

I'm going to leave you with a quote from my favorite TV show, maybe of all time, The Big Bang Theory.

Sheldon: "I believe I would like to alter the paradigm of our relationship."
Amy: "I'm listening."
Sheldon: "I would not object to us no longer referring to you as not my girlfriend."
Amy: "Interesting. Now try it without the quadruple negative."
Sheldon: "Amy. Will you be my girlfriend?"
Amy: "Yes."
Sheldon: "Well that's enough of that."

Hahaha.  On that note, my world is now complete.  Happy Friday!!

It's Wednesday the week before Thanksgiving, Can I really be expected to function properly?

Today I needed to have a discussion with my dear kiddos.  Life lessons with Ms. Kinney, if you will. 

They were as follows:

1. Don't let me see your cell phones, if I do I will take them and read your text messages. and laugh.  Then I will look through all your media and make sure you aren't being a skank. If you are, an awkward conversation is coming your way.

2. Put your facebook on private.  I don't want to see pictures of papers I have given back on your wall, even if I did make a funny when I was grading it.  I also don't want to read about how much you hate your science project or how much you are bored with school.  Also. They have this rating system where they literally rate each other's appearaces and write it on each other's walls! And people wonder why middle schooler's are so emotionally distraught all the time.  (for another facebook and my students story, see here)

So at the end of my long lecture on being a reasonable human being and precisely 3 minutes after I finshed lecturing them about how horrible it was to see cell phones and how bad it was if they go off...My phone started ringing...The Circle of Life from the Lion King.  Man do I set a good example. 

Oh well. They can't take my phone, but I can take theirs. 

On the Blogging World.

I'm going to set up a little bloggy blog that will represent other blogs as I see them.  Just for the record, I'm not hating...just pointing out that  maybe a lot of blogs are alike...but hey...I still read them, so blog on blog world.

Insert random picture that has nothing to do with anything, but inevitably has a very well dressed girl in muted colors with soft lighting:

For the record, to find this picture I googled, soft lighting cute clothes nature. 

Next they're probably going to tell you what happy things they've done lately. 

Today I love life.  It is the best thing ever.  Me and my best friendhusbandlovermanhunk are going on a date to somewhere adorable and local and healthy. I got an awesome amazing bestthingi'veevereaten vegan no carb avacado sprout delight. IT WAS AWESOME!!!!! Then. I went and worked out for 9 years and wahhh it sucked, but I felt so good when I finished that it was worth it! I loved being toned and fitting my tight little body into precious vintage clothes. 

Now I'm probably going to include a cute picture of my baby.  For me this is my cat...so here you go:

Ahhh. He's so cute. I dress him in vintage baby clothes always with animal hats. Also I never leave him  because he's so greattttt.

Then I'm going to ask you a question like, don't you just love vintage clothes and fall and cooking and working out and babies??

Maybe I'm not cut out for the blog world.  I mean...I don't go cute places and if I do, I don't take pictures...and shhhh, don't tell blogger...but I don't actually own a camera, much less a DSLR.  I also don't have instagram because I have a flip phone from 2002.  Oh well...I will blog on and hope that maybe one day someone will like my little blog, even though I never show you my outfits...or my baby...or my decorating skills...or my food choices...or my husband

November 11, 2011

I know. It's not November 11.  It's November 10.  However, apparently I am not making a big enough deal out of the fact that tomorrow is the one and only 11.11.11.  AND at 11:11 on 11.11.11 apparently all my dreams will come true.  Good luck getting me into Major League Baseball 11:11 on 11.11.11. 

Apparently a few of my girls have decided that 11.11.11 is going to make an awesome anniversary.  SO, I joke not when I tell you this...they have plans to obtain boyfriends tomorrow.  Genius, right? I mean, what's more promising than a middle school relationship began with the soul purpose of getting a boyfriend on November 11th? One girl even told me she's talking to a boy, but she won't let him ask her out until tomorrow. (We won't go into what "being asked out" means...it gets very complicated, but I can assure you, it doesn't involve actual dates).  That is dedication.  Then her and another girl proceeded to tell me that the boys they liked were dimes.  What the crap is a dime?? Am I really so old that I don't know the current slang!? I mean come on...I listen to rap...I thought I was hip to the groove, but apparently not.  I figured out that it means really attractive. Good grief. 

In other news, let me be the first to tell you, MERRY CHRISTMAS!! Yes.  I am that person, the one that gets really excited about the fact that all I heard at Wal-Mart this morning was Christmas music, who has already decorated her apartment (as much as Owen will let me..) for Christmas.  I think It's a Wonderful Life will be viewed in the near future.  It's Christmas people...and I just can't get enough! Now.  I know. It isn't even Thanksgiving yet. Wah Wah suckers!!!! This is one of the beautiful things about being an adult.  I DECIDE WHEN IT'S CHRISTMAS!!!

That's all I got today folks.  Happy Thanksgiving, Merry Christmas, and I'll just go ahead and throw it out there...Happy New Years, Martin Luther King Day, President's Day, Valentine's Day, St. Patrick's Day, April Fools Day, Flag Day and Independence Day...I think that's as far in advance as I'll work for now. 

Claire

Fright Nights: Part III

I'm sitting at school writing this during my plan.  Those idiots unblocked blogger. How am I ever supposed to get any papers graded or lessons planned? Good grief. We all know I don't have that kind of self discipline.  Blogs come a callin and I answer with open arms.  Oh well. 

Also. I'm wearing my "livin' life in 6D B" glasses as you may have seen in previous posts because it is spirit week. In addition to Superhero Day, Camo Day, Wear Red Day and Spirit Day, we also have dress like a nerd day.  Actually it started out as Nerds v. Jocks day, but apparently that was offensive and not representative of our desire to have a unified student body. So then we were supposed to cancel the nerd all together, and have jock/dress your favorite decade day. But then the kids were so hacked off they were fearing riot, so nerd day got reinstated, but this time with the removal of the vs.  This is how pretty much everything around here goes.  Keep up fools.  Regardless, I find myself in my Science Heroes T-Shirt, turtle neck underneath, in capri pants with cat socks and chucks, wearing red suspenders with my hair on top of my head.  Here's a visual. 

Anyway, I thought it might be time to update you on Fright Nights again.  It is going splendidly.  I say that because I haven't been there the four busiest nights of the season (Twice because of the plague, twice because I was in Indiana celebrating college, which is I guess what homecoming is?).  Apparently it's brutal. 

I've taken a true love for watching the goings on in the building before we get the party started.  These people are HILARIOUS. 

First of all, I am one of 5 people (out of approximately 75 total) that don't smoke.  I'm probably going to suffer the ill effects of smoking from the intense amount of second hand. Between that and my diet coke addiction (or cancer juice, as one of my students likes to call it), I'm probably headed for an early grave.  I'm forever being asked for a lighter or a cigarette, neither of which I have.  (They don't think it's funny when I offer to light it with the heat I emit from my body because I'm so SMOKIN hot in my Ghillet suit)

Mostly I keep to myself.  I have a select group of people I am willing to talk to, but much past that and I start to get concerned for my life.  Yesterday a guy wielding a broken baseball bat (which I heard him say he broke himself during a fit of rage) comes up to me and we have the following encounter:

Broken Bat Man (also wearing scary, messed up mask): Dang girl, you ain't talk much.
Me: I'm tired and I don't have a lot to say.
Broken Bat Man: Wow.  I'm glad to hear you have a voice...I wasn't for sure that you had one.

What I actually wanted to say: NO! Of course I don't talk much you crazy! You're weilding a broken bat, you are missing 5 teeth and I've heard you talk at least 3 times about your parole officer!

There is also an extrememly high turnover rate at this place. As in every night, 50% of the staff is completely new.  Which makes for an interesting situation and a plethora of new people to watch at all times.  Yesterday, one girl thought it would be a good idea to just bark at everyone who passed by.  Solid.  I'm all for that. For the record, she was not dressed as a dog or any variety of dog.  Just wearing pretty normal clothes.  I like. 

I'm starting to get creative with my free time in the woods as well.  I've started a nice regimine of ghillet yoga and laps around the clearing.  Exercise or bust.  That's my life motto...HA!

Anyway, it seems that the crowds get weirder and weirder the closer you get to Halloween, so I am sure tonight will have many fun adventures in store. 

Until next time,

Peace, Love and Pepper Spray,
Claire

Some Things to Consider:

1.  Yesterday, one of my students informed me (in all seriousness) that the United States was developing methods for creating Zombies.  Are we really prepared for this?? He is.  He's been learning the art of zombie killing.  I know who I'm going to for advice when the Zombie Apocolypse comes.  Do You? I suggest you start thinking about it. 

The Plague

Well. It has happened.  I knew I couldn't avoid it for much longer.  I have come down with the plague.  I'm going to go ahead and blame the germ infested little miscreants I welcome into my room with open arms every day. And you wonder why I don't hug people...

As it stands, I am sitting on my couch, wearing 19 layers of clothes, under a down comforter, with a space heater rolling because in addition to being sick, my heat doesn't work.  It's a really sweet situation.  You're jealous, I'm sure.

Being the trooper that I am (not really, I'm a huge pansy about being sick), I decided to go to school yesterday, but I left half day because I decided I was probably going to die in the near future.  So naturally, I went to seek medical help. After being shot down by my own doctor, and not having the energy to fight the good fight and needing find someone to tell me I wasn't knock-knock-knocking on heaven's door, I went to a walk in clinic.  Mistake.  First of all, it cost freaking $50.  Holy macarooni.  Apparently being shunned by your own doctor comes at a high price.  So now I'm rejected and poor.  They really know how to make a person feel good.

To the walk in clinic's benefit, it wasn't crowded and I didn't have to wait very long.  After having my vitals taken to prove I'm not dead, and being asked for the first time if there was any chance of pregnancy, I made my way to a delightful exam room.

5 minutes later a man practically runs in the door, screams his name at me and demands that I tell him what is wrong.  I wish I was exaggerating, but I'm not.  Also, he was talking so fast with a very thick accent. I could barely understand him.  I tell him my symptoms.  He asks me if I'm pregnant.  I have no idea where he got the concept that sore throat means pregnant.  I mean...I didn't go to medical school, but somehow I doubt the two are related.  He asks me another long series of questions, so fast I barely have time to respond before he's on to the next question.  He asks if I'm tired.  I say yes.  He asks if I'm  pregnant, again.  Then he asks if I've had mono.  I guess I'm at an age where you think pregnant first, mono second.  Man, it used to be the total opposite.  I guess I'm getting old.  He felt around, checked my heart and lungs, then he goes to feel my stomach and asks AGAIN if there's any possible way I could be pregnant.  Now this was just getting to be a little much, and had I been in my right state of mind, and not wallowing in self pity with how bad I felt, I would have yelled at him.

He says, "I'm going to check your tests."
I heard, "I'm going to check your breasts."

This is how bad the accent was and how creepy and weird this doctor is.  He comes back and tells me I am negative for strep.  He swabs my throat again to double check, but proceeds to tell me that I have a cold.  Baller.  I just got creeped on and degraded AND payed $50 to be told I have a cold.  I ask him if there is a possibility that I have a sinus infection since I get those pretty frequently.  He says no...it's not a sinus infection until 7 days.  I think, "great, I get to feel this way for 7 more days." He says he'll give me an antibiotic if I want it...I feel like this is bad medical practice.  I tell him no. I don't believe in the overuse of antibiotics.  I'm really thinking, this weirdo would probably poison me anyway, I'll just wait the seven days and see my normal doctor.  THEN. Old boy says this, "You don't seem very happy with me."

I'm thinking: NO!! You're right. I would actually go with down right pissed off.  You accused me of being pregnant FOUR times.  You practically molested me and you are rude and I just paid $50 for you to yell orders at me and tell me I have a cold. On top of all of that, I feel like crap and there's nothing you can do about it!!

What I actually said: "This is a doctor's office.  People are sick.  It's not exactly joyous.  I don't feel good."

Oh mylanta.  THEN i went to Kroger to get some drugs.  I had to jump through like 8765 hoops to prove I wasn't going to make meth out of my cold medicine.  GO figure.

Ah well. I feel a little better today, but definitely not up to par.  Give it 7 days and we'll try again with this whole doctor situation.

Peace, Love and a gallon of orange juice,
Claire

Fright Nights: Part II

Well friends. It has begun.  My life as a haunted trail employee has begun...and unfortunately (or fortunately...I guess) it has taken over my life.  Every Thursday, Friday, Saturday and Sunday, I haul my rear end into the woods and sit there waiting for my victims.  My role? Ghillie suit.  Oh yes. Here is a little visual for you:

If I was really serious about this biz...I wouldn't tell you who I am because it's supposed to be some big secret...but let's be real...I don't care that much. 

So. I squat in the middle of the woods, wait for a group to come and when they do...scare the tar out of them.  It is super effective.  

Things I have Been Called: 

- Sasquatch

- Big Foot

- Chewbacca (this is probably the most common...which makes my inner star wars nerd a happy camper) 

- Hagrid

- Moss Man

- Tree Guy

- B****

- N*****

- M***** F*****

- Yeti

- That guy from the Wizard of Oz??

- Swamp Santa Claus

Things I have made people do: 

- Cry

- Pee

- Hug another man

- Scream bloody murder

- Assume the fetal position

Also. I am getting my cardio on...holy cow.  I calculated that on a Friday night, the second busiest night to Saturday, I ran up and down the trail 90 times.  I am sore...I am sleep deprived...but I am very amused. 

There is more to come friends, because Justin has had even more hilarious things said to him.  Also to come: a description of the types of people that work at haunted houses...because THAT is interesting...

Peace, Love and Bush Man, 

Claire

P.S. I turn 24 today. I am feeling ancient...I won't lie...and a little emo...Sorry if my post isn't as funny as it could be...I'm sure I will be back to my normal self tomorrow. 

Seen and Heard around the Job Site

It's no secret that I don't exactly teach in the inner city.  I used to get frustrated in college because they would talk so much about teaching the urban child...and I am far from using those skills.  In fact...I wanted to share with you some things I've seen or dealt with in the last year and some change.

1. Frequently absent students for the following things:

- Working on the farm today
- Showing hogs/goats/sheep at the state fair
- National live stock convention
- Hunting Season (I'll have boys gone for a week at a time for this one...)

2. Last year I had a huge issue with students tracking mud into my room on their boots.

3. Yesterday, I literally witnessed someone lassoing in the parking lot.  I am not even joking.

4. Every time we talk about sustainable energy they get really concerned that the government's going to take away their diesel trucks.

5. When a student got in trouble for bringing alcohol to school...it was moonshine.

6. When I moved into my classroom, which has walls of drawers on three sides...a lot of the drawers had dip spit in them.

7.  All kids (honors kids, preppy kids, punk kids, gothy kids, ALL) sign up to take agriculture I in high school.

8. Once I had a student who was hurt...when I asked him what was wrong, he said...well. I kicked a cow...and he kicked me back.

9. During spirit week, on camo day, I wore army camo...I was the only one because everyone else was wearing hunting camo.

10.  The high school championships sign reads as follows:

Band: AAA State champions
Football: AA State Champions
FFA: State Champions

I didn't know FFAs competed!

Ah well.  That's my school and I love it dearly.  I wouldn't trade my good ole boys and girls for the world.  Most days.

Peace, Love and Cow Manure,
Claire

Some Things to Consider:

1. I assigned a project a few weeks back that was due today.  I had 30 kids who didn't turn it in.  Naturally I went ballistic.  I made them write essays about why they chose not to do their project.  If you ever want a packet of the craziest and dumbest excuses you've ever read...I'll let you borrow these essays.  Holy cow.  I think 4 people had cousins gets in wrecks. At least 10 had malfunctioning computers that refused to save their work.  Absolutely nuts.  One precious child told me that honestly, he would just rather be playing football...so that's what he did.  Aces.

Neighbor Dan

I don't think I've shared with you about Neighbor Dan yet.  Neighbor Dan and I share the upstairs of the building I live in, including a delightful patio that has a nice rocking chair and view of the parking lot.

I have counted the number of words Neighbor Dan and I have said to each other and at present, after having lived next door to each other for a year, I think the total is somewhere around 20. 20 total words ever. 7 of those words were a time that I looked out my door and he was standing there and he said: "you scared the s**t out of me."  I really have no idea what Neighbor Dan does with his life...I think I heard him talking to one of his girl friends about college one time, so my best guess is grad student.  However, I'm also pretty sure he's in a band.

Some Things I Know About Neighbor Dan:

1. Neighbor Dan has two modes of transportation.  The first is a motorcycle that he works on constantly.  Sometimes when he works on it he grunts at me as I walk in...don't worry I counted those as words in the total word count.  His other mode of transportation is a creeper van.  Like full fledged humongous van.  Sometimes he blocks me in with his creeper van and when he finally comes down I give him a look and he gives me an apologetic look and moves.  NO words necessary for these types of interactions.

2. Neighbor Dan loves his vices.  He absolutely loves chain smoking on our patio.  He also loves drinking on our patio.  He further loves leaving the remnants of both of these activities on our patio.  Also found on our patio: A jean suit, including matching pants and jacket.  I'm not really sure how they got there...nor am I sure I want to know how.

3. Neighbor Dan hates clothes.  I wish I had a dollar for every time I have come home to Neighbor Dan sitting on the patio in his underwear, chain smoking and drinking.  It's delightful.  I always say hey.  He always just looks at me.

4. Neighbor Dan loves the ladies.  Usually there is a lady sitting and chain smoking and drinking with him.  I've seen two different ones.  One looked to be about 45...the other looks to be about 16...I would say Neighbor Dan is somewhere in the realm of 25.  Nice.

Neighbor Dan and I have had one true conversation. It went like this:

Me: "Hey. Just wanted to let you know my car got broken into last night, so we should probably be on the lookout for shadsters."

ND: "Yeah. Once I saw a guy sitting in our driveway in a lawn chair. I told him to leave."

Me: "Wow."

ND: "Yeah."

The most words I've ever heard out of his mouth.  Eh. One day ND and I will be BFF. I just know it.  If he doesn't move out first.

Peace, Love and Cigarettes on my Porch,
Claire

P.S. I only know Dan's real name because I creeped on his mail box out of curiosity.

The Name Game

I love my name. True story.  If you ever see me in public, I am never too far from a monogram of my initials.  I just really like it.  Kudos parents you did a great job.  However, there are two bones I would like to pick with my name.

1. Claire: Number of Letters = 6
   Louise: Number of Letters = 6
   Kinney: Number of Letters = 6

As a child I was convinced I was the anti-christ.  I'm not even kidding, until like 5th grade when my Sunday School teacher confirmed that the anti-christ was male, I was terrified that I was going to become the anit-christ as an adult.

I asked my mom if she considered this when she named me, she said that yes she did, but she figured I'd just get married and it wouldn't be a problem anymore.  And so began my hunt for a man without 6 letters in his last name.  I would be lying to you if I told you I didn't count almost every males last name that I come in contact with just in case. For the record, I have never dated a boy with a last name with 6 letters.  Also, on that note...good grief mother, what if I don't get married or marry someone with six letters!? I'm stuck as the anti-christ for life! I also try to come up with other people who have this situation to help me feel better about myself...but I've never met anyone with 6 letters in every name...which does not comfort me.  I would also be lying if I told you I didn't pray about it sometimes...just as a precaution.

2. Claire Louise is not what one would consider a fashionable or even modern name.  Let's be real. There are very few Claires in the world and there definitely aren't a lot of Louises...except for the fact that 3/8 in my house senior year of college had that middle name...Claire is an old name.  I like it, I'm fine with it...I mean...I'd much rather be Claire than some crazy new age name like Rain or Sky. Really I had no issue with this at all until I saw The Breakfast Club...here is why: (excuse the blurry clip)

So there you have it.  Claire Louise Kinney.  A great name...but not without its hell sentences or fat girl implications.

Peace, Love and Judd Nelson,
Claire

I seem to have a knack for attracting hurt animals...

I don't know what it is about me that makes hurt animals come into my line of vision so frequently.  Maybe I just notice them more than the average person because I'm a monster animal lover? Maybe I'm just destined to a life of watching gross things? Either way, I have a story about a bat for you.

Today my kiddos competed in the metric olympics.  Super exciting right? I mean because everyone is dying to measure how far they can run in three seconds in METERS or take the mass of a handful of paperclips using GRAMS.  Let's be real the metric system is just really amazing.  So easy. So precise.  Just really great.  It's a darn shame we Americans are too stuck in our ways to actually utilize it.  Speaking of...here's a comic I found about the metric system.  Read and Laugh. Hard. Try to ignore the mildly inappropriate subtext and the line about gerbil anatomy.

Isn't science humor the best? I mean seriously... I knew I was in a good class the day my geology professor opened with this line...."Welcome to Geology. This class rocks." HA. Kudos Prof. Kudos.

Anyway, back to the bat. My kids were competing in some ferociously competitive metric olympics...not really...when the other teacher and I notice a shivering bat laying on the ground.  AGH. Seriously.  A bat? It's probably rabid...not to mention if it bites you you'll definitely turn into Dracula..Needless to say, I was a little stressed for the safety of my dear and precious students...who already have Dracula like characteristics. They're super cranky during the day and they frequently bite each other's necks.  One bat bite and those kids are chasing me with teeth bared...don't worry though...I had my meter stick at the ready in case I needed to use a wooden stake on one of them.

My fear for the kids aside, there was a shivering bat laying on the ground that I was a little stressed for...he looked so scared.  We called the school nurse...but she was no help...apparently they don't teach you what to do about sickly bats at nursing school...personally, I think she was ripped off in her education.  So. We did what all good teachers do to scary and bad situations...we ignored it.

At the end of class, we looked over and the bat was gone.  The bat did not seem like he was in any state to fly, so I was a little curious as to how this happened.  It's at this point that a kid comes up and tells me that he poked the bat with his pencil until he flew away.  Wow.  I haven't gotten to my ecology leavenaturealoneyoucrazychild unit yet...but come on...really? I asked the kid if he would like it if someone came up to him and poked him until he flew away.  He said yes. Typical.  I thought about trying it out in hopes that it would work...but decided against it.  Ah well.

Peace, Love and Dracula,
Claire

Some Things to Consider:
1. Bachelor Pad is on tonight. I am ashamed to admit that this has been getting me through the day.  Seriously, my drama scale is sitting around a -4 right now, so I have to watch other people's to keep myself occupied...not that mine is ever very high...but that's my excuse and I'm sticking to it.

2. I seriously almost just typed that Owen's biting habit was getting much better...but then he bit me...in his sleep...so I guess I'll retract that statement.

What I Came Home To...

Today I came home to two hobos hanging out on my front stoop.  I guess if I were more P.C. I would call them housing impaired...or maybe financially impaired? Either way, they were hanging out on my porch. I nick named them Randy and Boss.  I've decided I like them...if they're still there tomorrow I'll offer them a sandwich.

If the area of town in which I live was Germany and East Germany was the hood and West Germany was  normal...I would live on top of the Berlin Wall.  I'll be real. I like it that way and it is a source of pride.  Not everyone can say they live next door to a drug dealer and have had their car broken into by gangster thugs (at least at my best guess they are...not like I actually met them).

In other news, Owen has figured out how to take pictures off the wall.  He's so skillful that way.

Peace, Love and Love Thy Neighbor,
Claire

Of the Reproductive System...

Seen and heard in science class today:

1. After a lengthy discussion about cells, including reproductive cells:

"Ms. Kinney, can you get pregnant from swallowing sperm cells?"

2. After asking the kids to name some organs of the human body:

Child 1: "Liver"
Child 2: "Kidney"
Child 3: "Heart"
Child 4: "Scrotum"

AGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!

For the record, scrotum is not an organ.  If he really wanted to be obnoxious AND get the question right he would have said testicles.

Also.  Started my first day as assistant academic team coach.  I swear. These are my people.  I was made for this gig.  Leader of the nerd herd.  Love. It.

Peace, Love and Reproduction,
Claire

P.S. I am absolutely incapable of teaching about the reproductive system without singing the song "Reproduction" from Grease 2.  Who has even seen Grease 2? Answer: No one except me and the girl that made me watch it in college.  Here's to you Melissa Coffey, for making me sit through 2 hours of potentially the worst movie ever made.

Koumpounophobia

It's high time you learned a little more about me and I am prepared to make a very serious confession to all of blog world (at least the approximately 9 people who actually read my blog).  

I have button phobia.  As in I think buttons are the most wretched invention since the history of time. Koumpounophobia is the fear of buttons (usually just the plastic ones) on clothing...and I am self diagnosed.  

Once in Kindergarten, I wouldn't sit next to my best friend on the bus because she had a baseball shirt on.  I am not even exaggerating.  I am hesitant to touch people wearing buttons and I only wear them when absolutely necessary and I almost always feel really uncomfortable when I do and change as soon as possible.  

One of the worst days of my elementary school career involved a blue plaid sweat suit with decorative buttons (really awful because the buttons were non-functional).  It was while I was wearing this abomination, as forced by my mother, that I had my card flipped to orange for the first time in my entire life and had to sit out part of recess.  AWFUL.  I blame the buttons.  (I really do...I can't be expected to act myself when I wear them)

I am not alone in my fear, also suffering is my main man, Steve Jobs.  Now, Stevie has recently stepped down as CEO of apple...but I am serious when I tell you that old boy owes a lot to his phobia.  Obviously, I have done extensive research on the topic and the reason Apple has come out with so many touch screen products is because Steve hates buttons.  So much that the Apple stores in Tokyo don't have buttons on the elevator...making you stop at every floor.  Also the reason he ALWAYS wears turtle necks.  That's my boy.  Anyone else every noticed the AWESOME uniforms Apple employees wear? The polo shirts with out the collar and buttons? Like a polo t-shirt.  It's sweet.  I wish IncrediPet would pick up on this idea. 

I almost had to leave the theater when previews for Coraline came on.  I wish I was kidding.  My roommate in college thought it was hilarious to leave strings of buttons around our room.  I could barely touch them to get them out.  

This is the sad, but true account of my deep and intense hatred for buttons.  I don't even like typing the word.  It's also made SO MUCH worse by people who over pronounces the double ts in the word.  (saying BuT-Tens).  

Well. I am counting on a heaven that does not include buttons and only includes angel robes that zip up the back...or better yet...you can slip over your head.  

Peace, Love and Zippers, 

Claire 

Some Things to Consider: 

1. Has God ever slapped you in the face?  If you're thinking about making a negative definitive decision about someone, just go ahead and reverse it...because they're probably going to come back in your life in a way you never expected.  Touche God. Touche.  I hope you're enjoying a good laugh.  

2. Today a child puked in my classroom.  It almost caused me to break my 11 year puke-free streak.  Thankfully I had to hold it together for my students, or my record would have been broken.  It was a serious close call.  Close enough that I broke my anti-anti-bacterial pact.  My room was clorox wiped from top to bottom.  Good bye germs.  Quit being butt heads.  

Thoughts on Today

My intentions for today:

1. Work
2. Dog Park with the Coop
3. Redecorate bedroom
4. Laundry
5. Start Couch to 5k
6. Eat nutritious dinner
7. Watch Bachelor Pad

Granted...this was a little lofty...but what resulted is just sad.

What actually happened

1. Work
2. No Dog Park, Sad Dog
3. Lay on Couch
4. Play on Facebook
5. StumbleUpon
6. Eat ice cream, mac and cheese and triscuits for dinner
7. Watch Bachelor Pad

I guess I got the first and the last right? Ah well...some days are just like that.  Tomorrow we set smaller, more reasonable goals.

ON a different note a student came up to me today, arms spread and said the following:

"I'm a hugger!!!" Then she hugged me...for the third time...in three days.  If you have read my blog before you know how I feel about hugs.  If not...read about it here.

It could be a long year on that front.  Maybe I'll start throwing out the hand for a hand shake or high five. I feel like she'd be a classic diverter.  

Other than my serial hugger... my kids seem like a charming bunch...but then again, they all do for the first week of school...I'm waiting for the flood gates to break.  And when it does...I'll be armed with silent lunch and my sassy tude.

Ah Well.

Peace, Love and Unnecessary Touching,

Claire

Nightmares

I have always had vivid dreams.  I dream in color and I remember them, and a lot of times my dreams get really insane.  So, for that reason, I guess I'll tear myself away from watching Bachelor Pad and the woes of Jake and Vienna to tell you about some of my recent nightmares.

Dream 1: After a long day of work moonlighting as a pet care expert at IncrediPet,  I come home to my apartment tired.  However, when I walk up to my door, it is open. This obviously scares me, so I go hide on the steps up to my apartment where I call my mom.  Because obviously my hundred some pound 5'4" mother is going to help me with an intruder.  Police?? Who needs them? So my mom comes rushing over purse swinging and is like, "Claire, get up, you're being ridiculous, just go in your apartment.  Come here." So my mom goes to my door and yells, "Hey. Is anyone in here?" At this point, we see movement coming from my utility closet and out of the closet comes none other than Morgan Freeman because Morgan Freeman clearly needs to steal my furnace.  Morgan Freeman slowly walks over to the door where my mom and I are standing, picks up a hammer and hammers my mom in the head. He turns to me and swings...and I wake up.  For the record, I have not watched Driving Ms. Daisy recently.  Also. Is Morgan Freeman ever a bad guy?? I woke up from this dream legitimately terrified. I was even trying to come up with someone who would move in with me because there was no way I was living alone anymore.  Owen did not help matters when he attacked my hand as I went to turn off my alarm.  I won't lie...I screamed.

Dream 2: The first of many dreams that I have ruined my career.  Last year before the beginning of school, I had a dream that I was 5 hours late to the first day of school.  This year I dreamed that I showed up, but had nothing prepared.  The kids sat and stared at me.  Also, the kids were only a year younger than me and all they did was stare at me and tell me that I had no authority in teaching them.  I have actually had multiple, multiple dreams along these same lines, and every time I, for whatever reason, get very stressed about my first day of school power point.  I finally did my power point the other day, so I would quit dreaming it wasn't finished, but it didn't help...it just shifted my dreams to ones like...

Dream 3: I show up for the first day of school and it goes fine...but on the second day of school I call in sick because I have a meeting for my haunted house job.  However, around noon, I remember that I've left no sub plans.  I rush to school and all three of the other teachers are walking down the hallway toward me, mean girls style.  I pass them and say, "Oh my gosh guys! I totally forgot my sub plans! I'm a terrible teacher!" They look at me and say, "Yes! You are." and then walk away in step with each other. Then. I'm supposed to get new desks at the end of the first week of school.  The teacher next door took my desks, which coincidentally are neon colors and look like they are made for barbies.  I asked her if I could have her old ones...she told me she needed them all and too bad.  The third day of school my kids sat on the floor.

I am infamous for my dream life.  As a child, I sleep walked like it was my job.  Once I came up to my mom and told her I was ready for school about 10 minutes after I went to sleep.  I also couldn't watch Disney movies because I had consistent nightmares about the villains.  The eels from Little Mermaid definitely swam around my bed at some point and the Huns from Mulan definitely invaded my house and hid in the crawl space.  I would have thought that I would grow out of these ridiculous dreams...but I guess not.

Peace, Love and Rem,
Claire

Some Things to Consider:

I think Owen is autistic.  He is overstimulated pretty much constantly and here is a pic of Owen doing what he does on a very VERY regular basis...staring at himself in the chandelier...in fact...he is doing it from a different vantage point as I type this.

Fright Night: The Beginning

Note that I have used the ever popular colon in this title...indicating that I am both very serious about this topic and there are more (hopefully many) to come.

As many of you may know, Halloween is my least favorite holiday...ever.  I hate it even more than the Valentine's day I spent sitting alone in my dorm room eating Chinese food while the rest of my best friends were on dates with their boyfriends...or the Christmas banquet I went to as a seventh wheel.  (Do the math...three couples plus me) Anyway, my point is...I hate Halloween.

This is how I view it: As a kid Halloween is awesome.  You wear super great costumes (if you are me you got to be a Claire-ibu (like a Caribou, get it...?) and Albert Einstein...CHA-CHING!) AND you get tons of candy. Win win situation.  Then, sometime in high school, the tables start to turn, you're too old to go trick-or-treating and too young to really party it up, so you end up spending the evening handing out candy with your parents...awesome. (or, if you're me...you spend the evening on a band trip...which always seemed to happen) Then college comes around and it's suddenly popular to dress as a slutty something (slutty lumber jack and slutty darth vader are some of my favorites that I've seeen) and get schmammered.  Not really my scene.  Combo this mess with my intense hatred for all things scary and you can pretty much chalk up the last two weeks of October as a loss for me.

So, my dear friend Justin has a differing view...in that he's basically obsessed with Halloween and spends more time than I care to know thinking about fake body parts and his dream of owning a haunted house conglomeration. SO naturally, when Justin heard about the opportunity to be an actor in a Haunted House, he jumped at the opportunity.  AND when he heard about the intense shortage of people, he started recruiting and talking about it NON-STOP.  So.  After Justin texted me the number to call every day and promised me a pack of popsicles if I did it, I gave the guy a call and found my self at a meeting this evening for people interested in acting Fright Night at Jacobson Park.  I. Don't. Know. How. This. Happened.

Well. Let me tell you, if you are interested in some good people watching...go to a meeting for people interested in acting in a haunted house.  One of the guys running this deal was wearing creepy contacts and when his phone went off it legitimately played the Halloween theme song.  I mean really...can you be any more stereotypical? Also. If I had a dollar for every facial piercing in the place...I wouldn't have to teach anymore...I can tell you that much. Also. There was an intense amount of black.  I looked a little out of place...but what else is new?

So, part of this meeting was going through the haunted house with the lights on...this was legitimately interesting.  The owner also talked to us in every room and told us all the inner workings.  Also. Let me describe the owner for you: Blonde Dread locks, eyebrow ring, lip ring, beard, HUGE muscles and I'm ashamed to admit...oddly attractive. He also had all kinds of sweet lingo..for instance...Haunted House...shorten that to The Haunt...sounds much cooler right?  Further also, there is no air conditioning in this place, so everyone's eyeliner and guyliner is starting to run and you can see the sweat beading up around this facial piercings...no bueno.

After the tour, we went outside again, discussed some logistics and signed up, which involved waiting in line and getting your picture taken.  So. I guess I'm signed up to scare the crap out of some people come October. Apparently I also get to be trained in the art...this should be interesting...

Peace, Love and Creepers,
Claire

BK: Have It Your Way

This post goes out to my new BFFL Ramiero.

Who's Ramiero?

My Burger King Lover.

Unfortunately, VERY unfortunately for both my budget and my calorie count (which I don't count..but whatevs), there is a Burger King on my way to work for the summer.  You may be thinking that Burger King is gross, and you would be correct if you are thinking about Whoppers and Whopper Jrs with Cheese.  Those are gross.  However, their Cini-Minis are about the best thing I ever put in my mouth and they have Coke products, helping me to spur on my ever increasing addiction to Diet Coke.  Also, none of this requires me to actually cook in the morning, or even make sure that I have groceries in my refrigerator.

So. Every morning for like 4 weeks now I have been stopping at BK to help out my bleak breakfast situation.  Enter Ramiero.

For the first 3.5 weeks, Ramiero never really said anything, he just handed me my Cini-Minis and Diet Coke and we were on our way.  He back to his fryer...me on to my darling children awaiting me in the nine zillion degree weather.

It all changed a week and a half ago when I brought my own diet coke from home.  Woah did that one throw him for a loop.  "No Diet Coke for you Baby?" he asked me.

The next day, not wanting to stress Ramiero out any more than necessary and having an intense love for diet coke in a cup with ice, I got my usual.  At this point Ramiero starts being extra nice to me and calling me sweetheart.  Cha-Ching.

The next day I pull up to the drive through and Ramiero comes on the speaker and says, "Cini-Minis and a Medium Diet Coke?" Oh yes.

The next day:

Ramiero: "Welcome to Burger King. Would you like to try Cini-Minis and a Medium Diet Coke?"

Ohhh snap...Ramiero pulled a funny!

The next day:

Rameiro: "Oh no baby!! We are out of Cini-Minis!!!"
Me: "It's fine! No stress." (Secretly I was a little stressed...I'm developing a healthy addiction, but I wasn't going to make Ramiero feel worse than he already did)
Rameiro: "Sweetheart I was so stressed this morning, they only gave me TWO Cini-Minis for the morning and some lady came and ordered both of them and I though OH NO! So here's your Diet Coke, it's on me."

Today:

Ramiero: "Baby, I am making you some fresh Cini-Minis and it is all on me today."

Oooohh Yeah. This kid now has Burger King Connections.

I add Ramiero to the gas station attendant at Thorntons and the owner of Roly Poly, who recognized me even after I had been away at college for three years.  I guess you just don't forget a mug like mine...or I'm just such an extreme creature of habit that I just pound my face into people's mind by shear force.

Peace, Love and New Friends,

Claire

Some Things to Consider:

1. Yesterday a kid in my group at camp farted.  Me and my entire pack literally laughed for 20 minutes about this.  It was then that I realized that my true calling really is teaching middle school.  I'm sorry, I don't care who you are...farting in stinking hilarious...every time.  Especially when it is coming out of the cutest little Asian child you have ever seen.

2.  I'm going to start going back to school this week...I am BEYOND excited!!

Potty Stories

Working with elementary kids again really makes me remember what is so precious about them.  I mean, they're adoring, actually cute (I don't have to pretend they are cute like I do with  my 8th graders), sweet and many other things.  However, they do come with some issues that 8th graders normally don't.  (Note the use of the word normally, I use it loosely).  The bulk of which involve the bathroom.  Elementary kids for the most part have figured out the bathroom situation, but there are definitely slip ups.

At camp the kids use porta-pots.  Delightful. I know...but what do you expect for a government run day camp that costs $100 for two weeks? There are two actual bathrooms with plumbing, but they are for adults only. Thank goodness.  Kids are rough on bathrooms.  Anyway, I thought I'd share some bathroom stories from years past.

Musical Feces:

Once at camp we were playing musical chairs.  Packs 1 and 2 (6 and 7 year olds).  The kids are going around, having a good old time when I start to notice a stench.  I don't think a lot about it because kids also fart a lot.  But at this point I also start to notice some mud on the chairs.  Well. At the time I thought it was mud.  More and more chairs are gaining mud, when I figure out that it probably isn't mud.  Crap. Literally.  However, at this point I have no way of knowing who the culprit is...and it's not like I can just scream "Alright kiddos, who took a dump in their pants and is smearing it all over the chairs like a monkey!?" So. I did what every good counselor does, I let the kids finish the game...when the poop stopped, I knew the kid who went out last was my pooper.  Well. The chairs continued to get poopy until the very last.  I did a little sniff test and as it would turn out, our winner also had a winner in their pants...which she promptly denied.  Also. Her mom refused to bring the poor girl a change of clothes.  Super nice.

I gotta go:

Camper: Umm. Miss Claire, when are we going up the hill?
Me: In about 5 minutes

Three minutes later

Camper: Umm. Miss Claire, when are we going up the hill?
Me: In about  5 minutes.
Camper: You said that a long time ago.
Me: Well. Sometimes you just have to go with the flow bud and it isn't time yet.
Camper: Well. I really gotta poop, so do you think we could hurry this process up?


Poop is not only limited to children for me.  I've been pooped on by a bird three times to date:

Location 1: Freshman year - First band contest ever, waiting for awards...square in the middle of my hat.  There were literally 200 people who noticed this before me and laughed.

Location 2: Also band, this time Junior year - Warming up for a football game, right on my jacket.  I go see our uniform crew, they die laughing and proceed to call me the bird poop girl for the rest of my band career.

Location 3: Lecturing my campers on respect and listening to me when a bird dropped on right on my lap.  Nice.

Well friends, that's all for today...hope I didn't gross you out too much,

Peace, Love and the Pot,
Claire

On Rescuing a Bird...

Well friends. Another summer of Camp Kearney has begun.  That makes 5 years for those of you who are counting...I'm starting to feel like an old person compared to these young bucks they've hired this year.

So for the first two weeks I chose Pack 7.  They are about 10 years old...mostly going into 5th grade.  A little younger than I'm used to, but I'll be real, it's nice to have kids adore you for once.  Today they argued over who got to be "me." AKA who got to wear my whistle, name tag and sun glasses.  Go ahead kids, boost my ego a little more.  Love it.

So today one of our activities is fishing.  I hate fishing.  Not the actual act of fishing, but fishing in this situation.  It's hyper hot...ten year olds tangle lines...loosing bait...blah blah blah (in the words of my boss). Also. We don't have a lot of real bait...the lake is actually the city reservoir...it's super nasty....there are a million reasons it's about the worst activity ever.

So, after a while I guess my kids stopped believing me that their hooks were worm flavored (so I wouldn't have to refill them constantly) and they started to wander.  It was at this point that they came across our friend Lucky.  Now, you can guess how the story ends based on his name...so don't stress too much.

Bless Lucky's heart, he was tangled up in some fishing line...and maybe potentially ate a hook.  We're not 100% sure.  (When I say we I mean myself and my 11 kids all staring at this poor bird almost in tears, the kids, not the bird).  So poor Lucky is struggling for life.  He's flapping all over the place, cheeping and whatnot.  I try several release tactics...but let's be real...I'm not touching the bird, he might have rabies.  It's not working and I'm starting to become convinced that I'm going to have to teach my ten year olds about death and host a bird funeral.

I send some kids to get some scissors from the boat building...there are none...Lucky's still flappin'.  So I send some kids all the way up the hill and bless their hearts they dead sprint all the way because they are so concerned about this bird.  I stay with the remaining kids and try to reassure them that I'm sure Lucky didn't swallow a hook and it's just his little foot that's stuck.  Lucky's still a flappin...

Finally the kids come back with scissors (blunt kid scissors for the record) and with 11 kids surrounding me and Lucky I work on setting him free.  Unfortunately this is easier said than done because Lucky keeps flapping and is really not super eager for me to approach him.  Finally Lucky realizes that I'm there to help (after I talked birdy to him for like 5 minutes) (pun FULLY intended).  I cut the line and Lucky flies free...well...more like half flies half hobbles.  Then he proceeds to sit in the mud for like 10 minutes while my kids sit and stare at him.  I assure them that he's probably just taking a break and he'll fly away really soon... yeah...

So being the precious good Samaritans that they are, my kids decide that they better clean up all the fishing line from around the rest of the "lake" to prevent this from happening to any other poor little birdies.  Seriously, these children are precious.

The rest of the day my kiddos were super nature conscious and cleaned up trash everywhere (and there is a lot...it's a public park after all...yesterday we found a syringe, or a "shot" as they called it...I've also found condoms on more than one occasion) and refused to kill bugs.  Love their hearts...my psycho nature loving ways are rubbing off on them.

For the record, when our director found out about this whole scenario...he yelled at them for running with scissors...never mind the bird they saved...whatevs.

Then I saved our assistant director from being tackled by a kid who was trying to run and jump in the lake because we wouldn't let him keep the nasty hooks and bait he found in the trash can.  Kid was about the hyperventilate...I considered getting a paper bag.

Then I ate 6 cheap government popsicles...my own personal form of crack...and called it a day.  Now I'm sitting on my couch watching Wipe Out...I am OBSESSED with Wipe Out...whoever thought of this mess was a genius.  Tomorrow is water day...which always promises a good time.

Peace, Love and Treehugging Ten Year Olds,
Claire

On Weddings and Dancing...

Well friends, now that I don't have any awesome stories to tell you about my students, I've decided to regale you with some ridiculous stories of my past.  I know it's hard to believe, but I pretty much came out of the womb ridiculous.

Yesterday I attended the wedding of some friends that I used to work with at IncrediPet and yes, they did meet at IncrediPet because nothing is more romantic than uniform red polo shirts, sweating it up hauling dog food and cleaning up dog poo.  Anyway, it was a wonderful wedding and a lot of fun, but it did bring back some very painful memories for yours truly and NO it was not the memory of the fact that I am almost 24 and no where close to having my own wedding...but thanks for bringing it up.

Why the world insists on partaking in dancing at weddings is beyond me.  Seriously, before I went to college, I had no idea people danced at weddings, I thought you just ate food and talked....but, I also didn't know that weddings had color schemes until I was a senior in high school in a conversation that went something like this:

 Girl: "I'm going to a wedding tonight where the colors are brown and creme...we'll see how that looks..."
Me: "Um..the colors?"
Girl: "Yes. The colors."
Me: "What do you mean the colors?"
Girl: "Like the colors they are using in their wedding..."
Me: "Oh."

The conversation ended there, but I was still clueless, I had to go home and ask my mom what the heck she was talking about.  She explained, but I think it was a proud moment for her because it proved she definitely hadn't raised me to be a wedding focused girl.

Sorry about the tangent...anyway, I had no idea people danced at weddings...because they certainly don't in my family.  I remember my father saying something along these lines about a distant cousins wedding:

"Oh my gosh...she's just trying to be ridiculous and rebellious, having dancing at her wedding...sheesh."

True story.  Anyway, I definitely wasn't raised a dancer...in fact, I avoided prom for this very reason.  There is just nothing appealing to me about standing in middle of the floor rubbing up against other people in tune to some inevitably bad music.  Although granted at weddings it's almost (I say almost for a reason) never as trashy as that.  However every wedding comes with the same excellent set of songs.  Cupid Shuffle, Cha Cha Slide and my personal favorite the electric slide.  Luckily for myself I have become a lot more coordinated over the years, but the electric slide has been a point of dissension in my past thanks to my eighth grade P.E. teacher Mrs. Smith.  We once had an interaction that went something like this:

The entire class is electric sliding, myself included...or so I thought.

Mrs. Smith: "Claire! What are you doing??"
Me: "Um..the electric slide."
Mrs. Smith: "NO! That is not how you electric slide!" She then proceeded to show me how to do the electric slide. "Now you do it!"
I try.
Mrs. Smith: "CLAIRE YOU AREN'T EVEN TRYING!!!!!" I totally was...I was just that bad.

I think if it had been a few years earlier, I probably would have just sat down on the floor and started crying.  I mean, my gosh woman...I know I'm not coordinated, that why my dad wouldn't let me play t-ball and why my mom never signed me up for dance class.  I lacked hand to foot continuity...as in it took me FOREVER to learned to ride my tricycle because I would either steer or pedal, not both at the same time. I was destined to be a dork from the time I was three...it was a fact of life and I had accepted it...but my gosh woman...there's really no need to rub it in in front of the class.  I had other skills and abilities in the way of whistling and reading Baby Sitter Club books...sheesh, you'd think I was without talent the way she talked.

Anyway, I went home and practiced the stupid electric slide for like 4 hours until I had it perfect, I went back the next day and beasted it....but I still got a B in gym that quarter for lack of effort.  What the crap Mrs. Smith? What the crap.

Peace, Love and the teacher I never want to be,
Claire

Some Pictures to Supplement:

Clearly very excited about the dance circle in standard Claire dance pose (clapping hands) at Laura and Grant's wedding...

Mocking my friend Sarah's dance moves...probably because I can't actually do it myself (and also because that is probably the most ridiculous dance I've ever seen) at Maggie and Ben's wedding...

Ah yeah. I forgot to mention The love train...made infinitely more awesome by 3D glasses.