One Rung at a time

There is a theory that I studied extensively in college, Maslow’s Hierachy of Needs. This theory contends that as an individuals basic needs are met, they seek to move up or satisfy higher needs within the hierarchy. The basic concept is that the higher needs in this hierarchy only come into focus once all the needs that are lower down in the pyramid are mainly or entirely satisfied. Self growth creates an upward movement in the hierarchy, whereas regressive behavior pushes needs further down the hierarchy.

I'd like to believe that people that you connect with help you along all levels of the Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs, including the ultimate goal of self-actualization. When you simply aren't able to communicate with someone on a fundamental level, be it language or difference of beliefs or opinions or personality, it completely undermines your ability to achieve the last level or two of needs.

Sooner or later, you feel like you're missing something, and you feel empty or inadequate. Be it your faith or that connection you have with people, or that burning desire to find your own place in the world, I think that the people I get along with the best make all levels of the pyramid seem within reach.

Maybe it'd be easier to think of it like ladders going up the pyramid. Each person you meet is a ladder of a different height. The ladders of the people you truly connect with are a lot taller and oftentimes seemingly insurmountable. To get where that ladder will take you seems precarious and risky. But you know it can take you higher up than the shorter ladders you've been climbing.

When you've fallen off of a high ladder, you're wary of climbing up another one whose top you can't see. You settle for small ladders and you get to the top and realize you probably could have gotten that far on your own. And those people serve their purpose, don’t get me wrong, but I really feel that for the most part very few people really “get me”.

As humans, we're bound to slip now and then. Tonight I looked down and was unnerved by how high up the ladder I was going. The journey up the high ladders is seldom easy, otherwise we'd all be doing it all the time. There is a quote that goes "I never said it would be easy, I only said that it would be worth it."

It may take you longer than you had hoped, but every rung higher is a step closer. It may be treacherous at times, and you will feel that you can't go on, but you have to have faith that the solid foundation that you built will hold. That the journey you've embarked upon is worthwhile. Life isn't just about the destination, but the journey. And you should enjoy every ambiguous step and not be in such a rush as to miss out on what is unfolding around you.

The Deep Abyss

I hate how sometimes your brain doesn’t let your mouth in on what’s going on in your head, so it tries to decipher it and ends up getting it all wrong. It boggles my mind how emotions can lead to problems because you can’t seem to understand them at all. And I really hate when people don’t get that you are just trying to let your emotions explain themselves, and that you aren’t trying to let them run amuck. It’s just that your heart and mind can’t begin to fathom the true depth and intensity of the feelings that are hidden away in that secret box. It’s the place where your love for a child dwells, but it is also a dark place, where you store pure hatred, the deep abyss where all those intense feelings live and are stored, because if turned loose they would be in such pure, raw, uncontrollable form that even the sanest of minds wouldn’t be able to manage them. And so it goes another mask is added to the collection…and you’re the only one who knows.

Are you trying to tell me something?

So I did this wordle cloud tag where the most used words in my posts are scrambled up and put into this little college.... I love how this seems to scream for me to take Meds, so what are you trying to tell me?

Ponder This

If given the choice, would you rather (a) only abide by the rules and morals of society that you personally agree with, or (b) have the power to slightly adjust the rules and morals that currently exist?...(but these adjustments would ten apply to you and everyone else, all the time)

Come on put on your philosophical thinking caps and tell me what you're thinking

How To NOT Impress Your Child's Teacher At Open House

Every school year all us teachers are required to attend an open house night. This is a night where parents come and listen to a presentation put on by the teachers outlining school and classroom policys. It's also a time for us to meet parents and answer any questions they may have.

It is not....I repeat NOT a night for you to share anything and everything about the dynamics of your family....in short you should be putting your best foot forward with us teachers not seemingly going out of your way to further convice me that you should never have reproduced in the first place!

The following are examples of how to NOT impress me, your child's teacher on Open House Night. All of the example listed here are sadly true and are the primo highlights of my Open House experiences in my last 15 years of teaching, believe me people I could not make this shit up if I wanted to.................

Admitting to me that you not only bought your kid their first joint, but then sat down and smoked it with them under the dillusion that "at least they weren't getting high out on the street" is not really going to give me the impression you are Mother of the Year. Let's see encouraging the use of illeal drugs by a minor isn't really great parenting skills in my book, sorry you immediately are placed on the LOSER Mommy List honey.


Discussing with me your child's bowel movements is not really something I need to know, especially the length, color, frequency of said movements and their aroma is not something I really need to know....and throwing in the fact that you have to have your septic tank pumped every other month because of your kids monster turds really has no bearing on their academic well being. Leave the poopy talk at home please.

Dad's that Point out all the Mom's in the room that they partied with at the bar over the summer then took home and "tapped" is not relevant information that I need to know. Honestly the thought of your naked sweaty beer bellied body doing my students Mom doggie style is not a mental image I want to have come parent teacher confrence time.

Telling me the reason your son always falls asleep in class is because you kept him out till 1 am every night this week, because he plays bass in your band at the local bar, isn't really gonna score points with me.

Telling me what a ho your daughter is and stating that your goal is for her to make it through 8th grade without getting knocked up is really kinda of sad. I mean how am I supposed to respond to that???

Telling me you think the principal is an asshole in front of your child and then following that up with the fact that you outwardly encourage your child to misbehave at school just so it will ruin his day, is not really setting a good example on respecting authority figures. Makes me wonder..


Giving a mini seminar to all the other Sped Moms on how to milk the system and get a monthly social security check from the government because your kid has a learning disability. Then openly discuss how you use it for your "beer and cigarette fund"
Glad to know my tax dollars are going to fund your habits, right on.

And last but not least...Letting your child pass out flyers about a party they are throwing the following night at their house for all the 8th grade students, then telling me I am welome to come but it is BYOB....ok let me just grab my fifth of Jim Bean and I'll be right over. Seriously people I'll be getting my drink on in the privacy of my own home trying to forget the terrible impressions of your parenting skills that you have burned into my memory banks. Now if you'll excuse me I am off to get my drink on and try to forget what a LONG year this is going to be.

Never Forget

It still breaks my heart and piss my patriotic ass off to this day....we need to remember what happened that day...everyday not just today

Google This

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Damn I hate technology!

dropped my computer last week, ever since it has wigged out on me at the most inopportune times, namely tonight while I was typing the last line of my newest post, but I think ahhhhhhhhhhhh blogger automatically saves drafts now,,,well evidently not....because I lost the entire post ughhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

It stinks in here cuz I'm the shitz, or maybe I am just full of shit

Now for something a little different.....thought I'd do an interactive post tonight and well your participation is needed.......

I think I got the best complement today regarding my blog, no, I am not talking about a review or an award or anything like that....no, today Doug told me that he reads my blog on his iphone while he is sitting on the can taking his morning shit.

Seriously what can be more complementary than that?? Honestly I am honored that he finds my blog, morning shit worthy reading. I mean he could read anything and he reads my blog, it brought a tear to my eye really it did.... or maybe it was just the aroma of his morning log that was permeating though his ipone. Yeah I know I'm weird but you made my day Doug....

So here's the interactive part, if you have a blog what is the most complementary thing anyone has said to you about it.

In and Out of Time

God I love this piece, she never fails to move me.


In and Out of Time
by Dr. Maya Angelou

The sun has come.
The mist has gone.
We see in the distance...
our long way home.
I was always yours to have.
You were always mine.
We have loved each other in and out of time.
When the first stone looked up at the blazing sun
and the first tree struggled up from the forest floor
I had always loved you more.
You freed your braids...
gave your hair to the breeze.
It hummed like a hive of honey bees.
I reached in the mass for the sweet honey comb there....
Mmmm...God how I love your hair.
You saw me bludgeoned by circumstance.
Lost, injured, hurt by chance.
I screamed to the heavens....loudly screamed....
Trying to change our nightmares to dreams...
The sun has come.
The mist has gone.
We see in the distance our long way home.
I was always yours to have.
You were always mine.
We have loved each other in and out
in and out
in and out
of time.

I was gone before you cleared your throat.

You told me I was a hurricane, once; sucking people up out of their lives like frogs from their cool, happy creekbeds and dropping them, shaken, somewhere hopeful and bright.

You told me I felt as natural as rain, like soap on your damp body. You said I left you cool but sweet; I was proud of the traces of me on your skin.

You watched my eyes burn but didn't tell me I was beautiful. I forgot what to do when a man doesn't say that. Each day you cleared your throat and didn't say it

I blinked and began to believe I was gone. You called me a contradiction one day, pointing out in my hair the chewed pencil that held it, then breathing softly on the silver and diamonds embedded proudly in each of my ears.

You said I spoke like a shotgun at three in the morning after our talk left me pale and raw, and I envied your aim; your sharpshooter hand so steady it almost didn't hurt as I bled birdshot words.

You watched my eyes burn but didn't tell me I was beautiful.I forgot what to do when a man doesn't say that. Each day you blinked, cleared your throat and didn't say it drove me closer and closer to gone.

You watched my eyes burn. For you I was beautiful, but I'd forgotten what to do when a man says that. That day I didn't blink, and when you finally said it I was gone before you cleared your throat.

Immoral Dilemma

You are waking down the street and see an open briefcase with $1,000 dollars in it. Accross the street there is a police station. You decide to keep the money, do you spend the money on Whores or Crack?

You must choose one or the other...........

Saving Grace

Yesterday he was but a stranger to her..today he may just very well be her savior...

Today someone's life is going to change. Not because of some unforeseen windfall. No, today a person's life will change because a stranger took the time to listen, to care, to take a risk and a chance. A chance that may very well completely change a life.

Today a stranger recognized another's pain, and accepted the challenge to help a person they knew for mere minutes. Today a total stranger offered hope to the hopeless. And today my faith in humanity has been restored.

An Incomplete List Of Good Things

In no particual order
The smell of a freshly bathed new born baby
Not having to set the alarm clock
Freshly washed sheets
A warm towel when you step out of the shower on a cold morning
Watermellon Jolly Ranchers
Writing
Feeling comfortable with self-contradiction
Bald heads
The feel of a good pair of jeans
Anderson Cooper in an Armani Suit
Snowdays
Black High Heels
Heroes
The Detroit Tigers
A Large Diet with Light Ice
Grey Hair on Young Men
Good Fiction
Taco Bells that are open til 4 a.m.
Summer Vacation
Anderson Cooper in Kevlar
Drinking a cold beer on the patio
Singing Lillybeth to sleep
Boyshorts in every color
Proudly Flying Your Freak Flag
Text Messaging
A new tube of lipstick
My students telling me they wish I were their Mom
A clean Desk
Convertables
Bubble Baths
Carmel Apple Empanada's
Beer Buzzes
Bob Seger and the Silver Bullet Band
Good Friends
Other People's Weddings
Hallmark Cards
Road Trips
Freedom to think what I want

Teach Your Children Well

On any given day, I hear some pretty interesting things as I roam the halls of the middle school where I teach. Some of the things I hear crack me up like one of my female students telling her friend that it’s hard work being “this” stupid.” Or another who shouted to the entire 8th grade wing that “everything’s good in my life now that I’m a lesbian” Alrighty then.

Mostly though, I hear a lot of disturbing stuff. Once as I was sitting at my desk during hall passing, I heard a girl scream, and I mean scream at the top of her lungs, to her friend in the hall, "I got LAID last night!" I felt like walking out there and offering her congratulations on her amazing accomplishment. God knows it is a challenge to find someone to sleep with you when you are a teenage girl with low self-esteem.

By far the most horrifying thing I have ever overheard was said by a girl that was no older than 13. I was running for my life out the door after the final bell…I mean leaving the building, and passed the mass of students waiting by the exit for their buses. This is a particularly perilous time to leave the building for various reasons, not the least of which is that you are likely to overhear students in their first moments of freedom after being held captive in school all day. They are loud. They are rude. And they are crude. Apparently, they are also whores.

So here’s what I heard on Wednesday when I left work: A few boys and one girl were standing together waiting for the bus. One of the boys was carrying a platter of cookies, which he probably made in his "Foods" class. The girl said "I'll give you a blow job for one of those cookies."

Now, you have to understand I have 900 plus kids in my building and I walk past probably every one of them on a weekly basis. I hear stuff that I have to let slide, swearing that would make a sailor blush, student’s dissing each other and teachers, arguments--even if it is my instinct is to turn around and beat the shit out of the offender. If I stopped every kid that didn’t adhere to school rules, I’d never teach a lesson. I didn’t exactly let this girl slide though, As I stopped dead in my tracks and shot her a death stare, this misguided girl realized she had offered a blow job for a plate of cookies in front of a teacher. I simply turned to her and said, "Could you please leave the trash talk for when you leave the building, I’m not interested in the services you are willing to give away in exchange for baked goods.”

When I got in my car, I could not help but think I should have said more. But what? What can I possibly say to a 13-year-old who is willing to offer a blow job for a cookie? The worst part was her reaction, or lack of one. She glanced at me with this coy look on her face, “Oh look I'm so ashamed that this teacher heard me being slutty. I'm so naughty aren't I boys?” I wanted to drag her by the hair into my car and tell her that she was making a fool out of herself, that at this rate she might as well put on the clear stripper shoes and practice her pole dancing skills.

On one hand, I find this story a bit amusing. On the other hand, I find it disturbing. If it happened in a movie that was a parody about how high school girls are turning into cheap whores with low self-esteem, I would find it hilarious. But it was not a movie. It happened in my school, with one of my students, and it was a real girl with obviously low self-esteem who, at the very least, thought it was appropriate to portray herself as a cheap whore.

*** Those of you coming to this post via the Homeschooling website should read my rebutal before you post a comment....
(Warning this is a long post so bear with me….this needs to be said) They say in the blogging world……………… That you’ve really not made it until you have your first heckler….well if that’s true I’ve made it a couple times over. You see yesterday I checked my stat counter on my blog and noticed it was going nuts. Tad bit strange because even on a good day I don’t get much more that 50-80 visitors in a given day. My count by midnight last night was over 350, ok it doesn’t take Einstein to figure out somethings up, so I pull up my stat counter account and notice a large amount of the hits were coming to the same entry….my “Teach Your Children Well” post.

So I click on one of the incoming links….it’s an article on a Home Schooling web page…and there was a link to my post in the article. Now to be completely honest the writer of the article was very pleasant when referring to my post…well actually this is exactly what she said:

Recently, my husband came across a blog entry by a middle-school teacher that was so shocking that he waited until our kids were out of the room before calling me over to read it. The blog entry [warning: obscene language] related a conversation this teacher overheard as she left school one afternoon. She passed a group of several boys and one girl (about 13) waiting for the bus. One of the boys had a plate of cookies. The teacher heard the girl say, "I'll give you a blow job for one of those cookies." (Pause for a moment to marvel at how the heck a 13-year-old girl even knows what a blow job is.)

My husband e-mailed the teacher and expressed sympathy for the toughness of her job. The woman e-mailed back a weary verbal shrug and said it was all in a day's work. Now I don’t have any gripes with the fact that this woman chose my post to promote her home schooling agenda, hell kudo’s to her…that’s just good persuasive writing skills at work, and I have to admit it’s a good example of at least one particular problem that middle school teachers face in public schools.

One thing I do have a problem with is the part where she said her husband emailed me and my response. I didn’t recall getting an email from her husband and I checked my email both in and out box back before the post date and ummmmm no you didn’t email me, and I didn’t respond with a weary verbal shrug. Now I am not calling the man a liar it is quite possible that he confused me with another person he emailed, so I’m letting it go.

But had I responded, I would certainly have stated that unfortunately it is sad that these behaviors occur, and would have given a hell of a lot more piece of my mind than a simple shrug of my shoulders, and I would have offered a solution to the problem. But moving on cuz there is soooooooo much more to this story than a fabricated email response. The big picture here was that they linked my post, comprehended it and treated me with respect, so I will in turn do the same.

Now of the over three hundred and fifty hits to this post from the homeschooling website (ummm no I am not linking back sorry no link love from me) I only got feedback from three readers. Well lets just see what my new fan club had to say about me, yes me not my post… let’s break it down….

Anonymous said... So that kind of "trash talk" was upsetting, but underneath your title, you note that you're a "little fucking ray of sunshine". Oh, I see here in the comments section, it says, "Go ahead Fuck with me I dare ya". So you can say "fuck" all day long, but this kind of language offends you? Hypocrite, much?

First off Mr/Mrs. Anonymous, I don’t go around saying fuck all day long. And I never said I was offended by the word Fuck….obviously I use it quite a bit ! What I was horrified by was the fact that she was offering to suck a guys cock for a cookie, and if you had read and comprehended both the post on the homeschool website and my post you would have gotten that.

No I am not a Hypocrite, just because I use the word FUCK along with many other offensive words on my personal blog, which by the way no one forced you to read and comment on, does not mean that I don’t know when and where it is appropriate. Hypocrite I don’t think so.

Onto new fan Number 2: “You're blog is a perfect example of adults who should be an example to teens, and are not. Your blog is ridden with profanity, toothbrushes with jokes on ''ORAL'' ''wankers'' as commenters, and ''Go ahead and FK with me, I dare you'' is the final words of wisdom I see from you.

A practicing Catholic at confession: ''Honestly I think the triple combination of premarital sex, the use of birth control and the mention of ''double penetration'' was too much for him, go figure. Incidentally, I embellished the story just a little, I admit I am evil. I wanted to see (or should I say hear) him squirm.'' Charming confession. Read your conversation to a Priest, and then write on how teens are vulgar, and speak like truck drivers! Rather hypocritical. Thank God you don’t teach my child.”

First of all as a teacher, I am not required to be your child’s role model 24/7. I am their authority figure during school hours only and guess what….It is YOUR responsibility to take care of your child outside of school. What I do during my off hours and what I say on my personal blog is my business not yours! You were warned before even clicking through to my site that it contained obscene language…YOU chose to precede. You could have looked away or better yet looked past the two offensive words you came across and looked at the big picture, the message in the post……however you chose to attack me on a personal level. Real intelligent move, and such a good example for your children, does your curriculum include lessons on sticking your head up your ass?

The fact that you then choose to root around my blog to find a post in which to rip me again just further proves your ignorance. My confession post has nothing to do with my job as an educator. And if you had half a brain you’d have realized it was for comic relief…..Charming confession, yes, honest, yes, hypocritical no, rather I believe your judgmental attitude and comments just prove how shallow you are.

Once again I never said I was offended by obscene language…..obviously you and commenter number one have comprehension problems. As for your final comment to me ---“Thank God you don’t teach my children” for that one comment you left, I have had hundreds of parents tell me “Thank God you are my child’s teacher” and that is more powerful than any trolls who could leave me cowardly anonymous comments on my blog.

Been There Done That

I was shopping one day in Kohls with my daughter, when we turned the corner heading to the little sluts in training department....I mean the little girls clothing department…that’s when I smelled it. That smell that instantly transported me back to my youth, to my glory days. Well they were far from glory days but it did remind me of a lot of my teenage years. Yes that unmistakable smell of jellies, seems those odoriferous petroleum smelling soft jellyfish like sandals that you could smell coming a mile away are making a comeback.

Now I wasn’t born in the eighties but I did graduate from being a kid to becoming an adult during that decade, well in theory I did. But it got me reminiscing about that time and the things we all thought were so cool as teenagers and young adults.


Sadly I can remember what Michael Jackson looked like before his nose fell off or when he was simply talented and not a freak of nature.
Seeing every brat pack movie, and wanting to desperately be like Molly Ringwald’s character in the Breakfast Club, but more resembling the Ally Sheedy’s emo character deep down.

But the clothes…..god I loved the clothes, what the hell was I thinking that this shit resembled anything but cool. And no Greg I didn’t wear the Madonna wanna be slut clothes like you think, (at least not while I was in the company of my mother) but I have to admit I was a fashion diva, at least I thought so.

Izod shirts with the little green alligators worn with the collar up, does anyone even wear idoz shirts any more?

A banana clip in my hair with one of those slap on wrist bands to match my outfit, oh yeah I was stylish. Don’t forget to roll up the bottoms of your splatter painted jeans, and throw on a pair of white ankle socks with your jellies, or your feet would smell from here to eternity by the end of the day.

Yes the eighty’s were good to Kat, seems like a lifetime ago. It was the decade with some good memories, seeing my 84’ Tigers win the World Series in Game 5 with my Dad was priceless. Growing into my body and who I wanted to become in life. Choosing a major in college, and going on to not regret that decision to become a teacher one day in my adult life. Yeah good times…. However, no matter how much those jellies look tempting to me I won’t be caught dead in them. I am happy having my memories, good and bad of my youth and not anxious to relive them. No going Back to the Future for this girl, I’m living large in the present.

Counting Down

I have exactly 21 days left of school this year, hell where did the time go. As much as I need the break I have to admit that I am really going to miss my students this year.

They are such a quirky bunch of kids, and well I just love them to death. They are the first group to really "get my humor" and well I don't know.... as much as they annony the hell out of me at times and insist on telling me every little off the wall thought that comes into their head, I will miss them.

So as the end of the school year approaches, I am already looking forward to next year, thinking about how I will do things differently, what lesson plans I want to try out, getting my supply list ready for the fall.

But this year is going to be a little bitter sweet for me, and I just might be a little flaclempt when the final bell rings on the last day of school and they trample over me leaving, to run like hell to the busses. Run Forest Run, ok that was mean, but well it was funny so sue me.

Yeah it's gonna be a little emotional, but I am sure I will get over it that first morning I don't have to hit the alarm button at 5 a.m.

How Do You?

How do you show someone you completely understand them, and their flaws and love them all the same? How do you show someone that you see their worth even if they don't?

How in the world do you show them just how much their existence in your life and those closest to them is really vital? How do you heal a life long of scars that say otherwise?

How do you convince them that just because everyone else gave up on them doesn't mean you will..no matter how many times they've heard that?

How do you open their eyes and accept maybe this time fate dealt them a different hand? How do you hold them so close as to give them strength without smothering them?

Talking to the voices in my head

Can you tell I've been to therapy???? Self Reflection

“Deep down even the most hardened criminal is starving for the same thing that motivates the innocent baby: Love and acceptance"

“The only thing that will make you happy is being happy with who you are, and not who people think you are."

“As you become more clear about who you really are, you'll be better able to decide what is best for you”

“There comes a time when you have to stand up and shout:
This is me damn it! I look the way I look, think the way I think, feel the way I feel, love the way I love! I am a whole complex package. Take me... or leave me. Accept me - or walk away! Do not try to make me feel like less of a person, just because I don't fit your idea of who I should be and don't try to change me to fit your mold. If I need to change, I alone will make that decision.

“Don't rely on someone else for your happiness and self worth. Only you can be responsible for that. If you can't love and respect yourself - no one else will be able to make that happen. Accept who you are - completely; the good and the bad - and make changes as YOU see fit - not because you think someone else wants you to be different."


“Tears are words the heart can't express"

If that's what I am...what are you?

Ok kiddies some more trash talk from the classroom.....I know how you all love to hear about my day with the juvenile delinquents and future ditch diggers so here goes...

So part of my day is spent in the general education classroom where I support my kids..it's more like well paid babysitting, well not really. But I do spend a large amount of time simply dealing with behaviors and telling them to not act like a bunch of tards.

Anyway...I am helping one of my lower functioning kids and he asks me how to spell a word, I tell him it's right on the page of the book and to copy it. That's when the smart assed kid (a gen-ed-er, not one of my students) pipes up and says "yeah it's right in the book", you know a way of getting a dig in that well my student isn't quite as smart as him.

Now normally I would just shrug this off but this kid is a complete freak with a fucknut for a mother. He's a total Mommy's boy, dresses like he's a 4 year old with his matching little tracksuits and his little fidgety toys that he plays with when he's "stressed out". Seriously this kid is completely twisted and I predict one of following scenarios: A: one day he's going to get so fed up with his controlling mother that he's going to go all Lizzie Borden on her in her sleep hacking her into a million little pieces and spreading her remains all over the state or B: he's going to become one of those freaky serial killers like that guy from the Silence of the Lambs....I can just hear him now "It put's the lotion in the basket, or else it gets the hose. Either way it doesn't bode well for society.

Of course my student immediately told him to mind his own business, and I piped up that I agreed that he needed to take care of himself. That's when this shithead mumbles "jerk" under his breath.

Ok people this is the shit I live for...honestly given his history I was a bit insulted. I mean come on...this kid called the lunch lady a "Fucking Bitch" just last week. Is that the best you got you little shit? Seriously what do I have to do to get a legitimate diss, donn a hairnet and spoon out Tatar tots onto your lunch tray you little prick?

Needless to say the little pinhead got written up for calling me a jerk, and I am sure that Mommy Dearest will be requesting a meeting to discuss how I am demeaning her son and picking on him....I'd just love to tell her the only picking going on is her son who has his finger up his nose daily and wipes it on his cool track suit.
And they say my kids swim in the shallow end of the gene pool, at least their mother's haven't turned them in the sniveling little shit your son has become.

What it's like

Last Sunday was a really nice day outside, a rarity here in March. So I decided to run to the ATM grab some cash and hit the carwash. In order to get to the bank I had to go through a rather busy intersection. That’s where I saw a sight that has become more frequent in these trying economic times. Standing there in silence with a sign that read “will work for food for my family, need food, formula and diapers.


Of course I didn’t hit the bank yet, and didn’t have a nickel to my name, so all I could do is give him an empathic glance. Seeing him standing on that corner humbled me. See I’ve been bitching about how I may have to teach a different grade next year due to budget cuts and too many parents running like hell from this state and dragging their kids along with them.


I’ve been so caught up in my own pity party and have forgotten that I should be grateful even to have a job in this economy. Seeing this husband, and father standing on the corner humbly reminded me to count my blessings.


So I zipped over to the bank took out some bills with the intention of slipping him

a few bucks. But as I made my way back he was already gone. I looked up and down the intersection but there was no sign of him.


Maybe someone picked him up to do some work, or maybe he just gave up and went home. I guess I’ll never know for sure. But I have wondered in the days that have followed if he feels defeated, if he and his wife went to bed hungry so that the kids could eat. If the baby woke up hungry in the middle of the night, and if its cries were quieted with a warm bottle or if its tiny stomach went without. Sometimes I wonder if it's a test of my level of compassion for my fellow man....Yeah I’m definitely counting my blessings more.

life it's a bitch of a lesson

It’s funny how your perspective can change in the course of nearly a dozen months. The little shit that wore you down months ago seems so trivial in hindsight now. Separation from the situation tends to promote clarity. As you stand back and examine your role in the demise of a friendship, you realize your part in its death can not be fully expunged. So now a year later…. life hands them a death sentence, something you’d never wish on your own worst enemy.


And you think about all the time the both of you wasted…time that can’t be given back, wasted in a pissing match that could never be won by either of you. I have always said there is not much I regret in life…..have always lived with my decisions and chalked them up to life’s little lessons. But this is different, I can’t just wash my hands of it….. and I am responsible for my actions. I think I grew up a little bit this past year, it’s a bitch of a lesson....one I hope no one else has to learn.


It will be two weeks ago on Friday that I lost a friend, to the ravishment of cancer, too young to die, to young to leave behind a daughter and son, and the love of his life Tina. He will be sorely missed by them and myself. Just seems unreal that I won't be trading baseball smack talk about his Royals and "my girls" as he used to refer to my Tigers.


But as time has gone on, I am trying to look at the loss of this friend the way he viewed his pending death. He had made his peace, with his maker and everyone he felt he needed to, and to not be at peace with that myself would be hypercritical. So I'm trying to look beyond the grief of a life cut short and choosing to take some advice from a nutty professor...... There are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle." (Albert Einstien)…...............I am choosing the everything is a miracle option. Rest in Peace Rodney, Aka Forrest

You have got to be kidding me!

Groundhogs Day, I know you all look forward to it with nail biting excitement right? We are all aware of “Punxsutawney Phil” especially after Bill Murray’s completely hysterical film.

But I guess old Phil has some competition …"Gen. Beauregard Lee" in Georgia, "Sir Walter Wally" in North Carolina, "Staten Island Chuck" in New York, and of course, my favorite, the Howell Conference and Nature Center's "Woody." Ok yes immature but right up my alley, would you expect anything less.

In case you are not familiar with the protocol, it is said that if Phil see his shadow and runs away we ill have six more weeks of winter. If he doesn’t get spooked and sticks around then spring is on the way.

So here’s my gripe: Phil actually said spring is on the way. What are you fucking kidding me Phil? It’s only been like single digits below zero in my neck of the woods for the past three days! Maybe it was so cold that Phil actually became frozen and was trying his best to run away but hypothermia and frostbite set in too quickly…..more likely.

Well I guess that’s what we get for putting our faith in a rodent!

What's the Big Deal?

So Michael Phelps was caught on film taking a hit off a bong at a friend's party.My reaction? Indifference. Does it shock me? NO.. ...Do I care? Not really. I've long thought that "athletes" should not be required to be role models, that's the parent's job.

I guess I'm chalking it up to "who cares really." It's not like he was "toking" up before race or anything. He abided by the rules of the Olympic competition, and this happened in his private life, out of the pool. Additionally, what he did was nothing in comparision with what Marion Jones did on the track. This incident takes nothing away from his accomplishments in my book. I do have to say something about it though. Smoking the weed wasn't the dumbest thing you did, having it caught on film, not too smart.

But it does make me wonder if the high from the bong hit happened to cure that annoying lisp of his. That boy is in need of some serious speech therapy..so take some advice Michael step away from the bong when there is even a remote possibility of a camera being present, and if you are able to get any new endorsement deals, stick to the print ads cuz your articulation skills suck.