This is a Geek Out that others should also geek out over.
Behold, the Norfolk Botanical Garden Eagle Cam. It's a live stream of a real Bald Eagles' nest in Norfolk, VA. The eagles are wild, not in captivity, even though we were all lucky enough that they chose to nest in a botanical garden. The female laid 3 eggs, which all hatched very, very recently. Some of us lucky viewers were able to watch the hatchings. In a few weeks, viewers will be able to watch the bandings of the babies. It's truly fascinating to see these wild animals care for their young. It's raining pretty heavily there now, so the female has been sitting on the eaglets, shielding them from the rain and trying to keep them warm, even with water dripping down her beak.
It's also super gross when one of them brings a big flopping fish back and starts ripping it apart.
Go to the cam here.
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Friday, March 18, 2011
My First Home
The first house I ever lived in was a fine little rancher in a fine little neighborhood. Actually, it was a great little rancher in a fine little neighborhood that was becoming a somewhat crappy neighborhood. The suburb in which I grew up really isn't a bad place at all. I'd love to go back there again some day. It's weird to say that because saying "some day" makes it sound like I need to achieve these lofty goals in order to pack up my entire life and move far away back to the place from whence I came. In reality, I live maybe 20 minutes away. They're worlds-apart, though. Where I live now is most decidedly NOT overrun with original-owned Trans Ams with the firebirds on the hood and Camaros with leaky T-tops. Where I live now is full of people who want wine at the Boathouse with a view of the sunset, not beer in a field next to a fire pit.
I do enjoy wine at sunset. And beer and fire. I'm fully cultured. I'm also constantly judging myself.
That's the kind of first home I'd like to find some day. Cute little 3-bedroom rancher with room for the kids to play in a large backyard with a plastic pool, complete with a death-defying driveway to keep parents on their toes. Seriously, look at that thing. We weren't supposed to play on it or near the street (see above re: Camaros and Trans Ams--they go fast). But we had Big Wheels and helmets and one day Brother couldn't help himself. After fulfilling Brother's request to adjust his helmet, my dad went back to work on the car only to hear an emphatic yell of joy from Brother who was very well plummeting to certain death but enjoying every second of it. We also lived next door to a man who worked for TastyKake so he ALWAYS had treats. They also always had roaches, but Brother and I cared not about that when there were Tasty Klair Pies, Chocolate Juniors and mountains of doughnuts to hypnotize us.
One day Brother was playing with a friend. I'm going to hypothesize that they were playing with Hot Wheels because they were little boys, probably around 7, and Brother had an affinity for Hot Wheels. He used to put them under the wheels of our vehicles so that they'd get run over and be all crushed because you can't play car wreck with a vehicle that's still pristine. That would look ridiculous.
Brother needed music so he put on Joan Jett and the Blackhearts because that's the music we listened to and Brother loved him some "I Love Rock and Roll." As I'm sure you can deduct from my "Favorite songs of the moment" section of my profile, my family is pretty big into rock, particularly of the "classic" designation. Well, Brother's friend then says that he's not allowed to listen to "rock and roll" on the radio.
As it turns out, the little boy's parents were, shall we say, completely lunatic fundamentalists. That kid's father had told him that he can't listen to rock and roll. Why? Because if you listen to rock and roll, the Devil will come through the ground and grab you. I bet that kid pissed his pants a little every time he accidentally heard Black Sabbath. It was later decided that Brother could go there, but Devilbait wasn't allowed to come over to our house. That friendship didn't weather that storm.
It wasn't long before chain link fences became more prevalent in the front yards of our neighbors and aforementioned American-classic automobiles were left on cement blocks in the chain-linked-wrapped front yards. Hoodlums emerged. The neighborhood was going downhill, despite our ray of class on the hill.
Then a neighbor stabbed her husband in the woods behind our house. Clearly, that argument could not be settled at home.
This was the proverbial straw, if you will, and we quickly peaced out. We were building a new home, but as we couldn't very well stay on our uncleared lot, we rented a small house while we waited. This little house had an awesome basement, my brother got the attic as a bedroom as it only had 2 bedrooms and we could NOT share a room, and our backyard bordered our grandparents' backyard. We could walk there whenever we wanted! It was a quaint little home that bordered a small field where I remember running to try and find the end of a rainbow after a good rain. It was on Pine Street and it was all so apple-pie cute.
Oh and we also think we were next-door to coke dealers. But, at least no one was getting stabbed and the Devil wasn't coming. Upgrade.
I Can't Spell Hanukkah Without Looking It Up First
I believe that it's perfectly okay to:
1. Not know how to spell Hanukkah without looking it up first.
2. Play the same song a 7 times in a row.
3. Think that eating the ice cream on the lid doesn't count towards total ice cream consumption.
4. Believe that there's a definite area between "awesome" and "awful" into which movies can fit. It's called "relatively entertaining."
5. Think that Terminator 3 falls into the above category.
6. Vehemently defend that a soft drink has 3 different and distinct flavors: can, plastic bottle and fountain.
7. Buy a bridal magazine in front of your guy after living together for over 6 years and dating for over half that time.
8. Think that people who tell you to follow your dreams are crap because you have bills to pay.
9. Make jokes at a funeral.
10. Not get out and look at the dead body on the side of the road.
11. Like only one Beatles song (Eleanor Rigby in case you're wondering).
12. Be 100% completely and totally obsessed with the Eagle Cam at Norfolk Botanical Gardens
13. Be utterly flabbergasted that some people don't chew with their mouths closed.
14. Get irritated that some people just don't know how to wash dishes and load a dishwasher (and know when to do which).
15. Think Brokeback Mountain stole Top Gun's thunder.
It's also perfectly acceptable to be offended when someone asks if you're pregnant, but not when someone wishes you a Happy Hanukkah because of your nose.
1. Not know how to spell Hanukkah without looking it up first.
2. Play the same song a 7 times in a row.
3. Think that eating the ice cream on the lid doesn't count towards total ice cream consumption.
4. Believe that there's a definite area between "awesome" and "awful" into which movies can fit. It's called "relatively entertaining."
5. Think that Terminator 3 falls into the above category.
6. Vehemently defend that a soft drink has 3 different and distinct flavors: can, plastic bottle and fountain.
7. Buy a bridal magazine in front of your guy after living together for over 6 years and dating for over half that time.
8. Think that people who tell you to follow your dreams are crap because you have bills to pay.
9. Make jokes at a funeral.
10. Not get out and look at the dead body on the side of the road.
11. Like only one Beatles song (Eleanor Rigby in case you're wondering).
12. Be 100% completely and totally obsessed with the Eagle Cam at Norfolk Botanical Gardens
13. Be utterly flabbergasted that some people don't chew with their mouths closed.
14. Get irritated that some people just don't know how to wash dishes and load a dishwasher (and know when to do which).
15. Think Brokeback Mountain stole Top Gun's thunder.
It's also perfectly acceptable to be offended when someone asks if you're pregnant, but not when someone wishes you a Happy Hanukkah because of your nose.
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Geek Out #1
**Boyfriend decided to make his own list as well. I tell you, we're total geeks over this show. His list is at the bottom.
I'm a complete and total nerd and sometimes I try and disguise it, though I'm never fully successful. Sometimes I can't contain it and I have to totally geek out and this is one of those times. For most of you, this post will be completely boring so just skip this, go below and watch that bully video again because it's hilarious and that is far and away more interesting. On to my first Geek Out (there will undoubtedly be more in the future)...
One of Boyfriend's and my favorite TV shows is Supernatural. In short, it's a show about two brothers who are "hunters," killing ghosts and creatures and other "things that go bump in the night." They got into the life after something killed their mother and their father makes his life about finding and killing that creature, teaching his kids how to defend themselves and kill most any supernatural creature they may find. It's a fantastic show starring two of the hottest guys on the planet, Jensen Ackles and Jared Padalecki. That last part is probably more of interest to me than to Boyfriend. It mostly takes on a monster-of-the-week format and incorporates an incredible soundtrack and heavily features a kick-ass car, the 1967 Chevy Impala 4-door hardtop. The show is in its sixth season now, but if anyone wants to start it up, which you should, then I'd definitely check out any episodes from seasons 1-3. They're the best.
Yesterday I came across this article on EW.com about the 15 best Supernatural episodes. I agree with some, but definitely not all. Boyfriend and I debated this for quite a while last night and I've decided I will list my own 15 best episodes because Entertainment Weekly left some notable awesome episodes off.
Here is my list of the 15 Best Supernatural episodes (Boyfriend's would probably look even different, but I'm totally right):
15. Born Under a Bad Sign
Sam's possessed and pretty bad ass.
14. All Hell Breaks Lose
Season 2 finale. This one's technically cheating because it's actually two parts but I think parts 1 and 2 comprise a whole. Spoiler alert: Sam dies. Kind of. I feel okay writing this because Sam obviously doesn't totally die since the series keeps going.
13. No Rest for the Wicked
Season 3 finale. Really really creepy Lilith. Like, really creepy.
12. Malleus Maleficarum
Witches. Awesome girl fight between Ruby and another chick demon. Totally badass. Boyfriend probably wouldn't put this one his list, but I really like it.
11. Pilot
I actually wanted to make this one higher, but the two main actors hadn't quite gotten their chemistry and the writing and delivery was still new. But still, it hooked me into a new show. Classic ghost story of a Woman in White and you learn so much, like why the boys are hunters and why Sam's inclined to get back into hunting after trying to have a "normal" life.
10. Nightshifter *Special recognition for the best musical moment of the series thus far*
Shapeshifter. Hilarious paranoid character. Boys running from the law. Styx's "Renegade." Close to perfection. Here's the final scene with the aforementioned best musical moment.
9. After School Special
We find out how the boys' lives in high school were and we see Dean dressed as a gym teacher. Heartbreaking at the end. So good.
8. The Real Ghostbusters
Sam and Dean find themselves at a Supernatural convention where they find an actual ghost.
7. Scarecrow
GREAT classic monster/horror episode. Who DOESN'T find scarecrows creepy? This episode also has what I think is the third-best musical moment on the show (music plays a huge part in the awesomeness of this show if I haven't mentioned this already).
6. Monster Movie
Filmed in black and white with classic movie monsters that are nothing like "real life" monsters.
5. Heart
Hot chick is actually a werewolf and we end with Queensryche's "Silent Lucidity," one of the best songs at all times. If you don't cry at the end, you're a robot.
4. The Usual Suspects
The boys are arrested and Linda Blair is one of the detectives on their cases. Linda Blair, people!
3. On the Head of a Pin
Not funny at all. Deep. Heavy. Wow.
2. The Monster at the End of this Book
The "Supernatural" convention mentioned above makes a lot more sense after knowing that this episode is about a book series the boys come across called Supernatural. We meet Chuck, a hilarious character who somehow knows everything about Sam and Dean and all of their cases. We also see the guys' anti-possession tattoos and think they actually look kind of cool.
1. Jus in Bello
Best. Episode. Ever. Town overrun by demons. We meet Lilith. Oh it's just great.
Season 6's "The French Mistake" is one of their best as well, but I felt weird including episodes from the current season. I mean, it's totally genius.
I should also mention what I consider to be the second-best musical moment. I might actually be the best but I'm partial to "Renegade" and it just fit the moment so damn well. This is a very, very close second place. Whoever found this song was probably given a bonus for how well it fit the moment. In Season 5, we've found ourselves greeted by some of the Four Horsemen in various episodes. Sam and Dean need their rings and eventually have 3 of the 4, needing only Death's now. In "Two Minutes to Midnight," the second-to-last episode of the season, we finally meet Death. This is exactly how it looked on the show, except without the lyrics at the end.
Boyfriend's 15 Best Supernatural Episodes
(Snippets written by me, not Boyfriend)
15. Simon Said
This was a good one. I can get on board with this.
14. Home
The boys' home is haunted by a poltergeist and we get to see Loretta Divine as a woman named Missouri or something. Loretta Divine makes any episode of any show better. Another really good one.
13. Pilot
This should have been higher.
12. Croatoan
So this episodes isn't one of my favorites but it's vitally important to the story. The rest of the series relies on stuff we learn in this episode.
11. On the Head of a Pin
This one should have been higher too. I can't believe he only ranked it #11!
10. Nightmare
I forgot about this one. I may have had it on mine if I hadn't skipped over it, not remembering what it was. I forgot that this part of the story began in season 1. Kripke (the creator) really is a genius who had a story to tell.
9. When the Levee Breaks
This one is so good. Pretty sure I cried.
8. Nightshifter
Clearly Boyfriend has good taste here.
7. Shadows
We see Meg again, and she's a total bitch.
6. Dream a Little Dream of Me
The guys encounter a dude who can trap you inside your own dreams. Heavy.
5. Crossroad Blues
This was on my list but it got trimmed when I had to narrow it to 15. This is where we meet the Crossroads Demon for the first time and learn a very, very important part of this show.
4. The Monster at the End of This Book
3. Jus in Bello
2. All Hell Breaks Loose Parts 1&2
Boyfriend cheated too, so it's obviously okay.
1. Faith
Was shocked to see that this was Boyfriend's favorite episode. To me, the episode itself is just okay, but we do get to learn about Reapers and they are creepy. They also become extremely important in later seasons as well.
See, Eric Kripke had this idea for this show and how it was going to be told and unfolded before the first episode ever aired. He planned it to be told in 5 seasons and you see things in the first season that are explained in, say, season 4 and you know it was planned the entire time. Because of that, almost every episode "belongs" and the story flows damn near seamlessly throughout seasons 1-4. Season 5 gets shaky because they had planned to end the series (b/c Kripke would have HIS story told), but then CW renewed it for a 6th so they had to find a way to end Kripke's story while still being able to keep the show. So if you're intrigued but don't want to start at the very beginning b/c you don't know if you'll like it, pick episodes from these 2 lists. You'll notice the Pilot is on both of our lists, so starting at the beginning isn't a bad thing...
I'm a complete and total nerd and sometimes I try and disguise it, though I'm never fully successful. Sometimes I can't contain it and I have to totally geek out and this is one of those times. For most of you, this post will be completely boring so just skip this, go below and watch that bully video again because it's hilarious and that is far and away more interesting. On to my first Geek Out (there will undoubtedly be more in the future)...
One of Boyfriend's and my favorite TV shows is Supernatural. In short, it's a show about two brothers who are "hunters," killing ghosts and creatures and other "things that go bump in the night." They got into the life after something killed their mother and their father makes his life about finding and killing that creature, teaching his kids how to defend themselves and kill most any supernatural creature they may find. It's a fantastic show starring two of the hottest guys on the planet, Jensen Ackles and Jared Padalecki. That last part is probably more of interest to me than to Boyfriend. It mostly takes on a monster-of-the-week format and incorporates an incredible soundtrack and heavily features a kick-ass car, the 1967 Chevy Impala 4-door hardtop. The show is in its sixth season now, but if anyone wants to start it up, which you should, then I'd definitely check out any episodes from seasons 1-3. They're the best.
Yesterday I came across this article on EW.com about the 15 best Supernatural episodes. I agree with some, but definitely not all. Boyfriend and I debated this for quite a while last night and I've decided I will list my own 15 best episodes because Entertainment Weekly left some notable awesome episodes off.
Here is my list of the 15 Best Supernatural episodes (Boyfriend's would probably look even different, but I'm totally right):
15. Born Under a Bad Sign
Sam's possessed and pretty bad ass.
14. All Hell Breaks Lose
Season 2 finale. This one's technically cheating because it's actually two parts but I think parts 1 and 2 comprise a whole. Spoiler alert: Sam dies. Kind of. I feel okay writing this because Sam obviously doesn't totally die since the series keeps going.
13. No Rest for the Wicked
Season 3 finale. Really really creepy Lilith. Like, really creepy.
12. Malleus Maleficarum
Witches. Awesome girl fight between Ruby and another chick demon. Totally badass. Boyfriend probably wouldn't put this one his list, but I really like it.
11. Pilot
I actually wanted to make this one higher, but the two main actors hadn't quite gotten their chemistry and the writing and delivery was still new. But still, it hooked me into a new show. Classic ghost story of a Woman in White and you learn so much, like why the boys are hunters and why Sam's inclined to get back into hunting after trying to have a "normal" life.
10. Nightshifter *Special recognition for the best musical moment of the series thus far*
Shapeshifter. Hilarious paranoid character. Boys running from the law. Styx's "Renegade." Close to perfection. Here's the final scene with the aforementioned best musical moment.
9. After School Special
We find out how the boys' lives in high school were and we see Dean dressed as a gym teacher. Heartbreaking at the end. So good.
8. The Real Ghostbusters
Sam and Dean find themselves at a Supernatural convention where they find an actual ghost.
7. Scarecrow
GREAT classic monster/horror episode. Who DOESN'T find scarecrows creepy? This episode also has what I think is the third-best musical moment on the show (music plays a huge part in the awesomeness of this show if I haven't mentioned this already).
6. Monster Movie
Filmed in black and white with classic movie monsters that are nothing like "real life" monsters.
5. Heart
Hot chick is actually a werewolf and we end with Queensryche's "Silent Lucidity," one of the best songs at all times. If you don't cry at the end, you're a robot.
4. The Usual Suspects
The boys are arrested and Linda Blair is one of the detectives on their cases. Linda Blair, people!
3. On the Head of a Pin
Not funny at all. Deep. Heavy. Wow.
2. The Monster at the End of this Book
The "Supernatural" convention mentioned above makes a lot more sense after knowing that this episode is about a book series the boys come across called Supernatural. We meet Chuck, a hilarious character who somehow knows everything about Sam and Dean and all of their cases. We also see the guys' anti-possession tattoos and think they actually look kind of cool.
1. Jus in Bello
Best. Episode. Ever. Town overrun by demons. We meet Lilith. Oh it's just great.
Season 6's "The French Mistake" is one of their best as well, but I felt weird including episodes from the current season. I mean, it's totally genius.
I should also mention what I consider to be the second-best musical moment. I might actually be the best but I'm partial to "Renegade" and it just fit the moment so damn well. This is a very, very close second place. Whoever found this song was probably given a bonus for how well it fit the moment. In Season 5, we've found ourselves greeted by some of the Four Horsemen in various episodes. Sam and Dean need their rings and eventually have 3 of the 4, needing only Death's now. In "Two Minutes to Midnight," the second-to-last episode of the season, we finally meet Death. This is exactly how it looked on the show, except without the lyrics at the end.
Boyfriend's 15 Best Supernatural Episodes
(Snippets written by me, not Boyfriend)
15. Simon Said
This was a good one. I can get on board with this.
14. Home
The boys' home is haunted by a poltergeist and we get to see Loretta Divine as a woman named Missouri or something. Loretta Divine makes any episode of any show better. Another really good one.
13. Pilot
This should have been higher.
12. Croatoan
So this episodes isn't one of my favorites but it's vitally important to the story. The rest of the series relies on stuff we learn in this episode.
11. On the Head of a Pin
This one should have been higher too. I can't believe he only ranked it #11!
10. Nightmare
I forgot about this one. I may have had it on mine if I hadn't skipped over it, not remembering what it was. I forgot that this part of the story began in season 1. Kripke (the creator) really is a genius who had a story to tell.
9. When the Levee Breaks
This one is so good. Pretty sure I cried.
8. Nightshifter
Clearly Boyfriend has good taste here.
7. Shadows
We see Meg again, and she's a total bitch.
6. Dream a Little Dream of Me
The guys encounter a dude who can trap you inside your own dreams. Heavy.
5. Crossroad Blues
This was on my list but it got trimmed when I had to narrow it to 15. This is where we meet the Crossroads Demon for the first time and learn a very, very important part of this show.
4. The Monster at the End of This Book
3. Jus in Bello
2. All Hell Breaks Loose Parts 1&2
Boyfriend cheated too, so it's obviously okay.
1. Faith
Was shocked to see that this was Boyfriend's favorite episode. To me, the episode itself is just okay, but we do get to learn about Reapers and they are creepy. They also become extremely important in later seasons as well.
See, Eric Kripke had this idea for this show and how it was going to be told and unfolded before the first episode ever aired. He planned it to be told in 5 seasons and you see things in the first season that are explained in, say, season 4 and you know it was planned the entire time. Because of that, almost every episode "belongs" and the story flows damn near seamlessly throughout seasons 1-4. Season 5 gets shaky because they had planned to end the series (b/c Kripke would have HIS story told), but then CW renewed it for a 6th so they had to find a way to end Kripke's story while still being able to keep the show. So if you're intrigued but don't want to start at the very beginning b/c you don't know if you'll like it, pick episodes from these 2 lists. You'll notice the Pilot is on both of our lists, so starting at the beginning isn't a bad thing...
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
Bully Video
*3/16/11 Update: Bully was also suspended. CJ and Farkus were reportedly suspended for 4 days. Good, but I still believe that bully should have been suspended for longer than his victim since the entire incident would not have taken place if not for his initial and repeated actions. Oh and Farkus's parents are upset from all the negative attention and "tormenting" they're receiving since the story went global. The irony is hysterical.
Many of you, I'm sure, have seen this video. If you haven't, I highly recommend it:
*For the purposes of this discussion, the bully will be referred to as "Farkus" and the bullied kid will be referred to as "Chuck Norris Jr." or "CJ."
Bullying is a big topic in education circles these days. What causes it? How do we stop it? How should we tell kids to deal with it? The accepted solution being touted right now is to tell a teacher or the principal. Yes, tell an adult and then that adult will tell your bully to stop picking on you because that's all a bully's really missing right--a authority figure with no real power telling him to stop? Surely a teacher going to a bully isn't going to focus the target even more around you, right? No, it's actually going to tighten up the grouping of punches landed on your face.
What a bully is missing is an ass-kicking. Bullies pick on others they find weaker than themselves. This isn't cutting edge academic research; it's basic. You're not going to pick on someone you think is stronger than you. Farkus thought CJ was too fat and/or too shy to actually fight back, so he picks on someone who is physically larger than him because that looks badass. CJ takes it for a while, having been taught not to fight back because it's wrong to fight back (that was physically difficult to write). Never mind that animals in the wild (and in the streets) have to fight back against aggressors all the time to protect their health, safety and, well, life. We humans should just stand there and take it while we hope a teacher or other authority figure is able to talk the bully down. This is of course always effective because children today--especially those who would be bullies--are so respectful of authority and have no real understanding of how much authority and power teachers and school administrators actually lack. Surely they don't know that teachers can't actually do anything, right? And surely they don't know that many teachers are actually afraid of some students--like those who would be bullies--and generally should avoid confrontation. This is not a knock on teachers in any way. They really have very little power when it comes to disciplining the actions of someone they haven't actually seen committing the action and it's not like they can fight the bully.
Yeah, bullies know this. Farkus knows this.
Well, Farkus, too bad for you because CJ knows this too.
And CJ had enough.
Considering the fact that this confrontation was recorded with a camera phone, I'm going to go out on a limb and say that this isn't the first time Farkus picked on CJ. I honestly do not believe that this is the first time CJ had been backed up against the wall, punched and taunted by Farkus and someone just so happened to capture this first-time encounter on video. No, something tells me CJ has been in this exact situation before and this time, he had had enough. This time, CJ went all Ralphie on his ass.
I'll bet CJ will be walking around that Australian campus with his head held high and bully-free when he returns from his suspension.
At the base of it, even stronger than our ability to think rationally, we humans are animals. When we feel genuinely threatened, we should not be afraid to fight back against an aggressor. I'm not talking about punching a kid who's teasing you. CJ wasn't just teased and taunted. Farkus had punched him FIVE times before he fought back. After he fought back and got his attacker off of him, he walked away while the kid got up like a squashed bug attempting to walk after the shoe had been lifted off of him. No fight erupted, he didn't take on Farkus's friends or even continue to grind Farkus's face in the concrete. He extinguished the threat and moved on. This is going to sound weird, but I can't think of a more realistic civilized reaction to a threat. It's a lot more effective and realistic than telling CJ to tell his teachers and putting his safety in the hands of powerless administrators who are likely just as fearful of kids like Farkus as the children are.
I know you can't tell kids to fight back, but you can address the situation accordingly. You don't suspend CJ for fighting back and let Farkus go unpunished (as the most recent reports are suggesting). I personally would not suspend CJ for defending himself because quite frankly, I don't think he did anything wrong. Again, he was actually being punched--not just teased--and the attack was not ending until CJ ended it. If you're going to suspend him, though, you allow him to make up any missed assignments and you suspend Farkus for a longer period of time without that benefit. In this case, I'd also suspend the kid taping the incident and the bystanders who egged it on.
But maybe I'm biased...
When I was in Kindergarten, Brother was in 4th grade. We stayed at the home of the best babysitter in the world and we had almost 10 kids at our stop alone. Our bus was usually pretty packed. There was an older kid--4th or 5th grade--who began picking on me. Brother and I didn't get along at the time but he was very protective of me when it came to others. He could pick on me and hit me, but I was his sister so he felt that was his right. He informed the kid several times that he needed to stop picking on me.
Side note: What kind of parents raise a boy who picks on a girl, especially a girl who's 4 years younger? Seriously.
Kid did not stop picking on me so Brother made him stop picking on me. I can't remember if he pushed and/or hit him but he physically made the hoodlum stop picking on me. Brother has to go to the principal's office for fighting.
Both of my parents work and it was usually my mom who had to leave her place of work to come get us if we were sick or, in this case, in trouble. She left work and came to the school and was briefed of the issue.
Mom: "So let me get this straight. Older kid was picking on "Em" and her brother told him to stop. The kid did not stop so Brother took care of him?"
Principal: "Yes, that's correct."
My mom's response in that office?
"I don't see the problem here. Brother, go on to class and I'm going back to work."
I was not picked on by that kid again. Bus Bully and Brother didn't get into anymore fights and Bus Bully left me alone from then on.
Many of you, I'm sure, have seen this video. If you haven't, I highly recommend it:
*For the purposes of this discussion, the bully will be referred to as "Farkus" and the bullied kid will be referred to as "Chuck Norris Jr." or "CJ."
Bullying is a big topic in education circles these days. What causes it? How do we stop it? How should we tell kids to deal with it? The accepted solution being touted right now is to tell a teacher or the principal. Yes, tell an adult and then that adult will tell your bully to stop picking on you because that's all a bully's really missing right--a authority figure with no real power telling him to stop? Surely a teacher going to a bully isn't going to focus the target even more around you, right? No, it's actually going to tighten up the grouping of punches landed on your face.
What a bully is missing is an ass-kicking. Bullies pick on others they find weaker than themselves. This isn't cutting edge academic research; it's basic. You're not going to pick on someone you think is stronger than you. Farkus thought CJ was too fat and/or too shy to actually fight back, so he picks on someone who is physically larger than him because that looks badass. CJ takes it for a while, having been taught not to fight back because it's wrong to fight back (that was physically difficult to write). Never mind that animals in the wild (and in the streets) have to fight back against aggressors all the time to protect their health, safety and, well, life. We humans should just stand there and take it while we hope a teacher or other authority figure is able to talk the bully down. This is of course always effective because children today--especially those who would be bullies--are so respectful of authority and have no real understanding of how much authority and power teachers and school administrators actually lack. Surely they don't know that teachers can't actually do anything, right? And surely they don't know that many teachers are actually afraid of some students--like those who would be bullies--and generally should avoid confrontation. This is not a knock on teachers in any way. They really have very little power when it comes to disciplining the actions of someone they haven't actually seen committing the action and it's not like they can fight the bully.
Yeah, bullies know this. Farkus knows this.
Well, Farkus, too bad for you because CJ knows this too.
And CJ had enough.
Considering the fact that this confrontation was recorded with a camera phone, I'm going to go out on a limb and say that this isn't the first time Farkus picked on CJ. I honestly do not believe that this is the first time CJ had been backed up against the wall, punched and taunted by Farkus and someone just so happened to capture this first-time encounter on video. No, something tells me CJ has been in this exact situation before and this time, he had had enough. This time, CJ went all Ralphie on his ass.
I'll bet CJ will be walking around that Australian campus with his head held high and bully-free when he returns from his suspension.
At the base of it, even stronger than our ability to think rationally, we humans are animals. When we feel genuinely threatened, we should not be afraid to fight back against an aggressor. I'm not talking about punching a kid who's teasing you. CJ wasn't just teased and taunted. Farkus had punched him FIVE times before he fought back. After he fought back and got his attacker off of him, he walked away while the kid got up like a squashed bug attempting to walk after the shoe had been lifted off of him. No fight erupted, he didn't take on Farkus's friends or even continue to grind Farkus's face in the concrete. He extinguished the threat and moved on. This is going to sound weird, but I can't think of a more realistic civilized reaction to a threat. It's a lot more effective and realistic than telling CJ to tell his teachers and putting his safety in the hands of powerless administrators who are likely just as fearful of kids like Farkus as the children are.
I know you can't tell kids to fight back, but you can address the situation accordingly. You don't suspend CJ for fighting back and let Farkus go unpunished (as the most recent reports are suggesting). I personally would not suspend CJ for defending himself because quite frankly, I don't think he did anything wrong. Again, he was actually being punched--not just teased--and the attack was not ending until CJ ended it. If you're going to suspend him, though, you allow him to make up any missed assignments and you suspend Farkus for a longer period of time without that benefit. In this case, I'd also suspend the kid taping the incident and the bystanders who egged it on.
But maybe I'm biased...
When I was in Kindergarten, Brother was in 4th grade. We stayed at the home of the best babysitter in the world and we had almost 10 kids at our stop alone. Our bus was usually pretty packed. There was an older kid--4th or 5th grade--who began picking on me. Brother and I didn't get along at the time but he was very protective of me when it came to others. He could pick on me and hit me, but I was his sister so he felt that was his right. He informed the kid several times that he needed to stop picking on me.
Side note: What kind of parents raise a boy who picks on a girl, especially a girl who's 4 years younger? Seriously.
Kid did not stop picking on me so Brother made him stop picking on me. I can't remember if he pushed and/or hit him but he physically made the hoodlum stop picking on me. Brother has to go to the principal's office for fighting.
Both of my parents work and it was usually my mom who had to leave her place of work to come get us if we were sick or, in this case, in trouble. She left work and came to the school and was briefed of the issue.
Mom: "So let me get this straight. Older kid was picking on "Em" and her brother told him to stop. The kid did not stop so Brother took care of him?"
Principal: "Yes, that's correct."
My mom's response in that office?
"I don't see the problem here. Brother, go on to class and I'm going back to work."
I was not picked on by that kid again. Bus Bully and Brother didn't get into anymore fights and Bus Bully left me alone from then on.
Thursday, March 10, 2011
The Ugly Truth #1
Many of us have been conditioned to accept that we should believe certain things in life and regard those things as absolute truths. If we do not believe these things, we should keep those dissensions to ourselves due to risk of complete social ostracization (I'm not quite sure if that's a word, but you get it). For example, we are supposed to believe that dogs are awesome. If you do not, keep that to yourself lest you offend the rest of the general public (see for example: Friends, Season 7, “The One Where Chandler Doesn’t Like Dogs”). If you think maybe the Tea Partiers aren’t bat-shit crazy, keep that to yourself, dude, or others may think you are also bat-shit crazy. And if you believe that dinosaurs are myths and mermaids are certifiably real then, really, don’t tell that to anyone because you actually are bat-shit crazy so maybe that's not a good example.
But there is one belief with which I firmly do not agree and I think it’s time we stop being afraid to say how we really feel.
All babies are not cute.
I’m sorry, but they’re just not. There are some trollerific babies out there. We’ve all seen them but we keep those beliefs inside because we have these visions of being labeled heartless and being handed our one-way tickets to Hell, which we'll undertake in a vehicle with Nirvana and System of a Down on a constant loop and Easy Rider repeating infinitely on the screens in front of us and our riding partner who just so happens to be Kathy Griffin and she just will not shut up.
This needs to end. You shouldn't have to feel bad for your beliefs. I would NEVER tell a parent that his or her baby was not cute, but I am not afraid to say it when that family leaves and someone says, “Oooooh wasn’t Oscar just adorable?” No, actually, Oscar was not adorable; Oscar looked like this:
I don’t treat ugly babies any differently, just as I don’t treat ugly adults any differently. Does my saying this mean that I myself will have an ugly baby? I’m absolutely sure of it. I don’t expect to birth an angelic cherub baby when motherhood comes my way. Indeed, when I was born I resembled a small hairy monkey and I’m sure my progeny will make their entrance into this world in a stunningly similar fashion. That doesn’t change the fact that in this world,
There are cute babies
And there are ugly babies
(There are also REALLY cute babies)
You will not hear me say “Oh look at that cute baby” every time a stranger passes me with a stroller simply because it contains a baby. Babies do not inherently equal cute. Many ugly babies go on to make extremely cute children. I, as a baby, had a face that was too long and thus I always looked distraught or "special," but my toddler years were much more kind to me and those who had to look at pictures of me. Thankfully, I honestly and truly find all of my friends' and family members' babies to be seriously cute. It's been quite nice knowing that I will not have to lie to anyone I personally know.
The point is, we should not be afraid to disagree with the belief that all babies are cute because it's an erroneous belief. Those of us unafraid to admit the existence of ugly babies would never tell an ugly baby's parents or family/friend who would take offense, but it doesn't mean that we don't think it. We just hope that we are not asked, “Isn't my baby cute” thus forcing us to lie because that is NOT a question you answer honestly if you do not in fact think said baby is cute. You say to a trusted friend or family member, “Holy Lord, what the Hell happened in there?” and hope that the child grows out of its face.
I'll be posting pictures of my ugly children in a few years.
But there is one belief with which I firmly do not agree and I think it’s time we stop being afraid to say how we really feel.
All babies are not cute.
I’m sorry, but they’re just not. There are some trollerific babies out there. We’ve all seen them but we keep those beliefs inside because we have these visions of being labeled heartless and being handed our one-way tickets to Hell, which we'll undertake in a vehicle with Nirvana and System of a Down on a constant loop and Easy Rider repeating infinitely on the screens in front of us and our riding partner who just so happens to be Kathy Griffin and she just will not shut up.
This needs to end. You shouldn't have to feel bad for your beliefs. I would NEVER tell a parent that his or her baby was not cute, but I am not afraid to say it when that family leaves and someone says, “Oooooh wasn’t Oscar just adorable?” No, actually, Oscar was not adorable; Oscar looked like this:
I don’t treat ugly babies any differently, just as I don’t treat ugly adults any differently. Does my saying this mean that I myself will have an ugly baby? I’m absolutely sure of it. I don’t expect to birth an angelic cherub baby when motherhood comes my way. Indeed, when I was born I resembled a small hairy monkey and I’m sure my progeny will make their entrance into this world in a stunningly similar fashion. That doesn’t change the fact that in this world,
There are cute babies
And there are ugly babies
(There are also REALLY cute babies)
You will not hear me say “Oh look at that cute baby” every time a stranger passes me with a stroller simply because it contains a baby. Babies do not inherently equal cute. Many ugly babies go on to make extremely cute children. I, as a baby, had a face that was too long and thus I always looked distraught or "special," but my toddler years were much more kind to me and those who had to look at pictures of me. Thankfully, I honestly and truly find all of my friends' and family members' babies to be seriously cute. It's been quite nice knowing that I will not have to lie to anyone I personally know.
The point is, we should not be afraid to disagree with the belief that all babies are cute because it's an erroneous belief. Those of us unafraid to admit the existence of ugly babies would never tell an ugly baby's parents or family/friend who would take offense, but it doesn't mean that we don't think it. We just hope that we are not asked, “Isn't my baby cute” thus forcing us to lie because that is NOT a question you answer honestly if you do not in fact think said baby is cute. You say to a trusted friend or family member, “Holy Lord, what the Hell happened in there?” and hope that the child grows out of its face.
I'll be posting pictures of my ugly children in a few years.
Wednesday, March 09, 2011
My Best Friend's Worst Roommate
We’ve all had the roommate with whom we don’t want to live again. I’m very lucky in that of 5 roommates I had, there’s only one that I wouldn’t live with again. Otherwise, I lived with 4 great girls. My roommate senior year, specifically, was awesome and while we were so different, we got along so well and I learned so much from her. We met on a Wednesday night our junior year when my neighbors hosted their weekly “Southpong” nights where there was beer pong on a table suspended from the ceiling and countless cases of Southpaw awaiting all who cared to join in the black-lit cave of awesomeness that was their apartment. We recognized each other from when I went to get my tongue pierced earlier in the year and she worked at the parlor. Through continued conversation, we realized we were from the same area back home, she needed a place to live the following year, I didn’t want to live with my current roommate another year (and the apartment was kind of “handed-down” to me from my brother’s friends so I sure as Hell wasn’t moving), we got along really well, and why not live together since she has friends in my complex and it sure beats putting an ad out for a random person? When she moved in she brought her NES. Like, original NES. I knew it was going to be a good senior year. For me.
Best Friend, however, did not have such an experience senior year. For the record, Best Friend has the worst luck in the world, in all areas of life. Freshman year she first lived in a building that smelled of rank ass and her roommate single-handedly assisted in contributing to that. When you walked in the building, you found yourself catching your breath because the stank just hit you square in the face. When you went to Room 147, you actually had to hold your breath. Her roommate let her dishes sit out long enough that the stuff growing inside started overgrowing the rims of bowls and mugs (they had to buy new dishes). Her roommate sometimes didn’t want to climb all the way to her bed on the top bunk, so she and her boyfriend would just lie in Best Friend’s bed where they drank wine and ate cheese and crackers from Best Friend’s desk. When my roommate left school in February, Best Friend moved in with me. Best Friend and I said we’d be roommates in the dorms the following year as well. Best Friend’s luck had another plan. Turns out, Best Friend was not going to get on-campus housing. She wasn’t even wait-listed. She was outright rejected for housing while I (and all of her other friends) were accepted and had our on-campus housing secured for the following year. She had to find a place to live. With strangers. And quickly.
Through her search, she was lucky enough to find S & M. Fortunately, the three of them got along extremely well and sophomore year was great fun. Unfortunately, however, they were prevented from living together in that apartment another year because they were going to be turned into condos. Best Friend’s luck can probably be blamed for that one too—it cares not of other casualties.
M lived elsewhere the following year so Best Friend and S moved into another apartment complex, where they lived with E. That year was incredibly fun. I became the unofficial fourth roommate who slept on the futon many many weekend nights (and a great deal of Mondays as well). Then, to our dismay, S graduated at the end of that year and Best Friend and E had to find yet another roommate for senior year. Best Friend’s luck had decided that it had left her living situation relatively calm for a while, and that was not to continue for her final year.
Enter T-Rach.
Her name was Rachel, but it didn’t take long before she earned herself the nickname by which she would be forever known. T-Rach was a big girl who lived…bigly. She made no attempts to walk or perform any other action with any notion of delicacy, but really just kind of barreled through the space around her. Her nickname came about one evening when a group of us in the living room heard her begin walking in her room and subsequently entering the hall. The drinks we had on the coffee table in the living room literally began to vibrate like that scene in Jurassic Park. We could feel her before we could see her.
T-Rach was innocuous at first. She kept to herself and didn’t bring much attention to herself (except for her tyrannosaurish walking tendencies), usually hanging out in her room unless she came out to make her dinner. We didn’t think much of her at the beginning.
But then we noticed things. Those dinners she came out to make? They were a master-level culinary creation of steak with a side of steak. Those two steaks were covered in cheese. There were no vegetables or carbs, just steak and more cheesy steak. She’d go outside in the freezing cold, huddle over this miniature grill in sweatpants that were hung too low and a thong that was pulled too high for a girl who easily weighed over 250 pounds. We’d have to witness this for several minutes at a time because steaks don’t cook but so quickly on a toy charcoal grill and we’re not talking about steak medallions here. Then she’d take her two cheese-covered steaks and head to her room and we wouldn’t see her the rest of the evening.
One night she told us she was going for a run. More power to her right? If only the rest of us larger people could gather the determination for exercise! Go T-Rach! When she left, though, we realized that T-Rach wasn’t going running.
She was going hunting.
You know what you don’t wear if you’re going running at night? You don’t wear a black sweatshirt. With black sweatpants. And black shoes and socks. And you really don't pull the black hood of the black sweatshirt over your face. No, you don’t wear that to go running. You wear that to hunt small nocturnal woodland creatures in the creek beside your apartment complex. When she returned from “running,” she was neither sweaty nor out of breath. Instead, she had 2 bags of Chips Ahoy, walked straight into her room and those cookies were never seen again.
When she decided she wanted a puppy to stash in her room, she went and got herself a puppy. I think the puppy’s name was Max. Max was adorable the few times I saw him. I say this because he stayed with T-Rach, and because she never left her room, neither did he unless he was going outside (which wasn’t often, poor thing). When Max did come out, you’d go to pet him and be left with a greasy hand since he was covered in the grease that results from handling multiple cheesy steaks and then slopping it on a dog in petting attempts. This grease was also on the back of the fridge handle, which was ALWAYS a nice surprise when all you wanted was a drink and what felt like the result of dipping your hand in lard.
In the middle of the semester, T-Rach decided she was going to move out. When she made this decision, that meant she finally left her lair long enough for Best Friend, E and I to investigate.
Oh Holy God.
In addition to the dank smell, it really did look like an animal had been caged in there and not just the puppy that was actually caged in there. The bottom of the door had been clawed away so badly that chunks of door were missing. There was a plethora of crumbs in her bed, which was a sloppy mess. Gaping holes were in the walls of the bedroom and the closet. The closet! We’re not talking about holes from nails for picture-hanging. No no, they were holes of destruction where the carcasses of the creatures she managed to successfully capture must have been placed after she had devoured what she wanted of them. The only pictures on the walls were colored pictures of Ariel and Sleeping Beauty—you know, from the coloring books all of us college students had.
Then there was her bathroom. The linoleum had been ripped up at the door like something had been held in there against its will and was attempting to fight and/or dig its way out. But why would she lock her puppy in the bathroom of the bedroom she kept shut all the time anyway? Perhaps she thought cleaning its waste from the linoleum floor was so much easier than actually taking it outside to walk it? The toilet seat was broken in half. Amateur repair had been attempted with electrical tape but it was still quite obviously broken. The toilet seat. What could she have possibly done to that toilet seat that caused it to literally break in half?
When T-Rach did finally leave, it was both a relief and a royal pain in the ass for Best Friend and E. She left no forwarding address but she DID leave her mattress (which served as a great brace for the beer pong table we spray-painted with chalkboard paint--best college idea ever, by the way). We knew she lived in a nearby county, but didn’t know where or with whom. The state of her room alone cost them their security deposit and then some. Even if everything else in the apartment had been pristine, the damages in her room still would have exhausted the security deposit and racked up additional charges. They had to pay significant fees for the damage and T-Rach, of course, couldn’t pay this. Nor could she continue paying her rent because she was apparently going to file for bankruptcy and had numerous medicals bills from phantom doctor visits. The doctor visits couldn’t have possibly actually taken place because she honestly never left her room. I believe the creatures trapped in her room and hidden in the walls, scraping and clawing for escape, would confirm this.
Life seemed boringly normal after T-Rach vacated the apartment, leaving us with only the memories of her nighttime hunting, grease-covered dog, ill-fitting sweatpants, and the gnawing question of “where does one possibly purchase thongs that large and why on Earth does anyone manufacture such items?”
Best Friend, however, did not have such an experience senior year. For the record, Best Friend has the worst luck in the world, in all areas of life. Freshman year she first lived in a building that smelled of rank ass and her roommate single-handedly assisted in contributing to that. When you walked in the building, you found yourself catching your breath because the stank just hit you square in the face. When you went to Room 147, you actually had to hold your breath. Her roommate let her dishes sit out long enough that the stuff growing inside started overgrowing the rims of bowls and mugs (they had to buy new dishes). Her roommate sometimes didn’t want to climb all the way to her bed on the top bunk, so she and her boyfriend would just lie in Best Friend’s bed where they drank wine and ate cheese and crackers from Best Friend’s desk. When my roommate left school in February, Best Friend moved in with me. Best Friend and I said we’d be roommates in the dorms the following year as well. Best Friend’s luck had another plan. Turns out, Best Friend was not going to get on-campus housing. She wasn’t even wait-listed. She was outright rejected for housing while I (and all of her other friends) were accepted and had our on-campus housing secured for the following year. She had to find a place to live. With strangers. And quickly.
Through her search, she was lucky enough to find S & M. Fortunately, the three of them got along extremely well and sophomore year was great fun. Unfortunately, however, they were prevented from living together in that apartment another year because they were going to be turned into condos. Best Friend’s luck can probably be blamed for that one too—it cares not of other casualties.
M lived elsewhere the following year so Best Friend and S moved into another apartment complex, where they lived with E. That year was incredibly fun. I became the unofficial fourth roommate who slept on the futon many many weekend nights (and a great deal of Mondays as well). Then, to our dismay, S graduated at the end of that year and Best Friend and E had to find yet another roommate for senior year. Best Friend’s luck had decided that it had left her living situation relatively calm for a while, and that was not to continue for her final year.
Enter T-Rach.
Her name was Rachel, but it didn’t take long before she earned herself the nickname by which she would be forever known. T-Rach was a big girl who lived…bigly. She made no attempts to walk or perform any other action with any notion of delicacy, but really just kind of barreled through the space around her. Her nickname came about one evening when a group of us in the living room heard her begin walking in her room and subsequently entering the hall. The drinks we had on the coffee table in the living room literally began to vibrate like that scene in Jurassic Park. We could feel her before we could see her.
T-Rach was innocuous at first. She kept to herself and didn’t bring much attention to herself (except for her tyrannosaurish walking tendencies), usually hanging out in her room unless she came out to make her dinner. We didn’t think much of her at the beginning.
But then we noticed things. Those dinners she came out to make? They were a master-level culinary creation of steak with a side of steak. Those two steaks were covered in cheese. There were no vegetables or carbs, just steak and more cheesy steak. She’d go outside in the freezing cold, huddle over this miniature grill in sweatpants that were hung too low and a thong that was pulled too high for a girl who easily weighed over 250 pounds. We’d have to witness this for several minutes at a time because steaks don’t cook but so quickly on a toy charcoal grill and we’re not talking about steak medallions here. Then she’d take her two cheese-covered steaks and head to her room and we wouldn’t see her the rest of the evening.
One night she told us she was going for a run. More power to her right? If only the rest of us larger people could gather the determination for exercise! Go T-Rach! When she left, though, we realized that T-Rach wasn’t going running.
She was going hunting.
You know what you don’t wear if you’re going running at night? You don’t wear a black sweatshirt. With black sweatpants. And black shoes and socks. And you really don't pull the black hood of the black sweatshirt over your face. No, you don’t wear that to go running. You wear that to hunt small nocturnal woodland creatures in the creek beside your apartment complex. When she returned from “running,” she was neither sweaty nor out of breath. Instead, she had 2 bags of Chips Ahoy, walked straight into her room and those cookies were never seen again.
When she decided she wanted a puppy to stash in her room, she went and got herself a puppy. I think the puppy’s name was Max. Max was adorable the few times I saw him. I say this because he stayed with T-Rach, and because she never left her room, neither did he unless he was going outside (which wasn’t often, poor thing). When Max did come out, you’d go to pet him and be left with a greasy hand since he was covered in the grease that results from handling multiple cheesy steaks and then slopping it on a dog in petting attempts. This grease was also on the back of the fridge handle, which was ALWAYS a nice surprise when all you wanted was a drink and what felt like the result of dipping your hand in lard.
In the middle of the semester, T-Rach decided she was going to move out. When she made this decision, that meant she finally left her lair long enough for Best Friend, E and I to investigate.
Oh Holy God.
In addition to the dank smell, it really did look like an animal had been caged in there and not just the puppy that was actually caged in there. The bottom of the door had been clawed away so badly that chunks of door were missing. There was a plethora of crumbs in her bed, which was a sloppy mess. Gaping holes were in the walls of the bedroom and the closet. The closet! We’re not talking about holes from nails for picture-hanging. No no, they were holes of destruction where the carcasses of the creatures she managed to successfully capture must have been placed after she had devoured what she wanted of them. The only pictures on the walls were colored pictures of Ariel and Sleeping Beauty—you know, from the coloring books all of us college students had.
Then there was her bathroom. The linoleum had been ripped up at the door like something had been held in there against its will and was attempting to fight and/or dig its way out. But why would she lock her puppy in the bathroom of the bedroom she kept shut all the time anyway? Perhaps she thought cleaning its waste from the linoleum floor was so much easier than actually taking it outside to walk it? The toilet seat was broken in half. Amateur repair had been attempted with electrical tape but it was still quite obviously broken. The toilet seat. What could she have possibly done to that toilet seat that caused it to literally break in half?
When T-Rach did finally leave, it was both a relief and a royal pain in the ass for Best Friend and E. She left no forwarding address but she DID leave her mattress (which served as a great brace for the beer pong table we spray-painted with chalkboard paint--best college idea ever, by the way). We knew she lived in a nearby county, but didn’t know where or with whom. The state of her room alone cost them their security deposit and then some. Even if everything else in the apartment had been pristine, the damages in her room still would have exhausted the security deposit and racked up additional charges. They had to pay significant fees for the damage and T-Rach, of course, couldn’t pay this. Nor could she continue paying her rent because she was apparently going to file for bankruptcy and had numerous medicals bills from phantom doctor visits. The doctor visits couldn’t have possibly actually taken place because she honestly never left her room. I believe the creatures trapped in her room and hidden in the walls, scraping and clawing for escape, would confirm this.
Life seemed boringly normal after T-Rach vacated the apartment, leaving us with only the memories of her nighttime hunting, grease-covered dog, ill-fitting sweatpants, and the gnawing question of “where does one possibly purchase thongs that large and why on Earth does anyone manufacture such items?”
Vote for Freaky!
Freaky's voting day has arrived! Go vote for her in the Tournament of Cuteness! Voting stays open until Sunday.
Monday, March 07, 2011
My Best Story
I debated on when I should finally post this story. Should it have been the first story? Should I post it on the anniversary of the event or another significant date? I finally decided to just go ahead and post it as I've come to realize that there are a few of my friends who have not yet heard the story. See, this is my best story and I didn't want to give it away too soon. Now's the time.
On a beautiful September day in 2009, Boyfriend and I were leaving Brother and SIL's house after my adorable nephew's first birthday party. I was originally going to stay through the whole weekend but with school work at the time, I decided that I had to leave that Saturday afternoon instead. This ultimately proved to be one of the best decisions I ever made.
The drive was proceeding wonderfully. The skies were sunny, the temperature perfect. Boyfriend and I were cruising happily along with our windows down and our hair blowing attractively about our faces. We're traveling approximately 60 mph and Boyfriend was beginning to doze off into what would have probably been a blissful passenger-seat slumber.
I happen to look up and see a large bird of prey swooping from the trees beside the road. I'm in disbelief as I realize that this bird has horribly miscalculated its attack and I'm going to hit it as it quickly approaches the ground. In a split second I'm thinking "Oh my gosh I'm going to hit this bird and it's going to crack my windshield because it's massive and seriously, who hits birds? and is this bird for real swooping right this second because surely it's been a bird long enough to learn proper attack protocol..."
My thinking was abruptly halted when I heard the loud "POW!" of what I thought was bird against my windshield. I yell a religious-laced obscenity and look quickly at windshield to see that, thankfully, Suicidal Bird had not cracked it. Whew for me, unfortunate for the massive avian predator I just likely obliterated.
It dawned on me, then, that Boyfriend had not yelled out as I had, which struck me as odd because Suicidal Bird would have hit right in front of him and surely that would look awesome or at least wake him up. When I look at Boyfriend, I see that he's crouched over in the fetal position of my passenger seat and yelling "What the HELL was THAT?! I think the visor just hit me in the head!" I thought this strange because visor was still against the car ceiling as it should be.
Then I saw feathers on my dashboard.
Then it dawned on me.
Then I laughed harder than I've ever laughed in my entire life.
Boyfriend had just been hit in the face by Suicidal Bird.
I explain to him, through fits of uncontrollable laughter, that he has just been hit by a sizable bird of prey and he doesn't believe me. I point to the feathers strewn across my dashboard and floor, to the visor that is still in its rightful place and tell him what I saw. He adds that the greatest amount of pain is on the right side of his head, with some pain on his left ear as well. All signs point to Suicidal Bird colliding with his face and wing wrapping around his head. I cannot rightfully explain how hard I was laughing. Okay, sure, Boyfriend could have died or at least lost an eye should unfortunate talon-placement have transpired, but that didn't happen and Boyfriend laughed too so I don't feel guilty.
Then the phone calls begin.
My third call was to Brother. I recount the story to him and he asks, "Is the bird still in the car?" I tell him of course not, Suicidal Bird cannot possibly be in the car. Upon further consideration, Boyfriend and I take into account that only his and my window were down so unless it flew out behind my head and out of my window, or bounced off of his face, there's a chance the bird could still be in my car. Boyfriend turns around.
"Uh, Em? Yeah, the bird's in the car."
"No it's not."
"Yes it is. It's in the backseat."
*I picture deer scene from Tommy Boy, become somewhat frightened and decide that Boyfriend is joking with me, otherwise we are in severe peril.*
"Take a picture with your phone, then."
*Boyfriend takes picture with phone. Shows me picture of bird on what looks alarmingly similar to my backseat*
"Holy [expletive!]"
Thankfully we came to a red light and I was able to turn around to see the carnage for myself. What I saw was a hawk or falcon or osprey slumped against the door behind me, fatally resting on my overnight bag. The hawk/falcon/osprey/something had flown into Boyfriend's face, continued its trajectory and met with an unforgiving window behind my seat. Since the loud explosion-like sound I heard couldn't have come from contact with Boyfriend's face, I think what I heard was the hawk-window showdown.
We stopped at a gas station a few miles down the road, but I could never shake the feeling that this bird was going to awaken and fly around my car, seriously pissed off. Unfortunately fur Suicidal Bird, he could not have been more dead. I get gloves from gas station to remove the bird from my car, but decide that we can't just throw it away. The bird really is lovely and is probably a juvenile so it deserves a proper burial.
Or actually, we wanted to stuff it. After numerous calls, however, we are told that it is illegal in our state to stuff a bird of prey and we could get in serious trouble if we were found to have this dead bird in our possession.
And also, no one would believe us without the animal. AND we needed to compare it to pictures in bird books to see what it was.
Ultimately, we gave it a proper burial but not before stopping by my parents' houses and our friend's house, where we attended a birthday party and thus got to show it to almost all of our friends.
I wanted Boyfriend to be called "Hawk" but it didn't stick, much to the dismay of Boyfriend and me.
And here, for your viewing pleasure, is the Rough-Legged Hawk that my ninja Boyfriend killed with his face:
The question that still haunts me to this day: What on earth did the people behind us see?
On a beautiful September day in 2009, Boyfriend and I were leaving Brother and SIL's house after my adorable nephew's first birthday party. I was originally going to stay through the whole weekend but with school work at the time, I decided that I had to leave that Saturday afternoon instead. This ultimately proved to be one of the best decisions I ever made.
The drive was proceeding wonderfully. The skies were sunny, the temperature perfect. Boyfriend and I were cruising happily along with our windows down and our hair blowing attractively about our faces. We're traveling approximately 60 mph and Boyfriend was beginning to doze off into what would have probably been a blissful passenger-seat slumber.
I happen to look up and see a large bird of prey swooping from the trees beside the road. I'm in disbelief as I realize that this bird has horribly miscalculated its attack and I'm going to hit it as it quickly approaches the ground. In a split second I'm thinking "Oh my gosh I'm going to hit this bird and it's going to crack my windshield because it's massive and seriously, who hits birds? and is this bird for real swooping right this second because surely it's been a bird long enough to learn proper attack protocol..."
My thinking was abruptly halted when I heard the loud "POW!" of what I thought was bird against my windshield. I yell a religious-laced obscenity and look quickly at windshield to see that, thankfully, Suicidal Bird had not cracked it. Whew for me, unfortunate for the massive avian predator I just likely obliterated.
It dawned on me, then, that Boyfriend had not yelled out as I had, which struck me as odd because Suicidal Bird would have hit right in front of him and surely that would look awesome or at least wake him up. When I look at Boyfriend, I see that he's crouched over in the fetal position of my passenger seat and yelling "What the HELL was THAT?! I think the visor just hit me in the head!" I thought this strange because visor was still against the car ceiling as it should be.
Then I saw feathers on my dashboard.
Then it dawned on me.
Then I laughed harder than I've ever laughed in my entire life.
Boyfriend had just been hit in the face by Suicidal Bird.
I explain to him, through fits of uncontrollable laughter, that he has just been hit by a sizable bird of prey and he doesn't believe me. I point to the feathers strewn across my dashboard and floor, to the visor that is still in its rightful place and tell him what I saw. He adds that the greatest amount of pain is on the right side of his head, with some pain on his left ear as well. All signs point to Suicidal Bird colliding with his face and wing wrapping around his head. I cannot rightfully explain how hard I was laughing. Okay, sure, Boyfriend could have died or at least lost an eye should unfortunate talon-placement have transpired, but that didn't happen and Boyfriend laughed too so I don't feel guilty.
Then the phone calls begin.
My third call was to Brother. I recount the story to him and he asks, "Is the bird still in the car?" I tell him of course not, Suicidal Bird cannot possibly be in the car. Upon further consideration, Boyfriend and I take into account that only his and my window were down so unless it flew out behind my head and out of my window, or bounced off of his face, there's a chance the bird could still be in my car. Boyfriend turns around.
"Uh, Em? Yeah, the bird's in the car."
"No it's not."
"Yes it is. It's in the backseat."
*I picture deer scene from Tommy Boy, become somewhat frightened and decide that Boyfriend is joking with me, otherwise we are in severe peril.*
"Take a picture with your phone, then."
*Boyfriend takes picture with phone. Shows me picture of bird on what looks alarmingly similar to my backseat*
"Holy [expletive!]"
Thankfully we came to a red light and I was able to turn around to see the carnage for myself. What I saw was a hawk or falcon or osprey slumped against the door behind me, fatally resting on my overnight bag. The hawk/falcon/osprey/something had flown into Boyfriend's face, continued its trajectory and met with an unforgiving window behind my seat. Since the loud explosion-like sound I heard couldn't have come from contact with Boyfriend's face, I think what I heard was the hawk-window showdown.
We stopped at a gas station a few miles down the road, but I could never shake the feeling that this bird was going to awaken and fly around my car, seriously pissed off. Unfortunately fur Suicidal Bird, he could not have been more dead. I get gloves from gas station to remove the bird from my car, but decide that we can't just throw it away. The bird really is lovely and is probably a juvenile so it deserves a proper burial.
Or actually, we wanted to stuff it. After numerous calls, however, we are told that it is illegal in our state to stuff a bird of prey and we could get in serious trouble if we were found to have this dead bird in our possession.
And also, no one would believe us without the animal. AND we needed to compare it to pictures in bird books to see what it was.
Ultimately, we gave it a proper burial but not before stopping by my parents' houses and our friend's house, where we attended a birthday party and thus got to show it to almost all of our friends.
I wanted Boyfriend to be called "Hawk" but it didn't stick, much to the dismay of Boyfriend and me.
And here, for your viewing pleasure, is the Rough-Legged Hawk that my ninja Boyfriend killed with his face:
The question that still haunts me to this day: What on earth did the people behind us see?
Tournament of Cuteness
Fellow blogger, Jamey, has begun a Tournament of Cuteness. I totally think my cat should win this, so I ask all readers to go to the site and vote for Freaky. Her bracket isn't up today, but I will post again when it is. And then you should go vote for her. Remember, you're voting for Freaky:
Tuesday, March 01, 2011
The Creepertons: Volume II
The Creepertons continue to make their presence known. The days since the hole in the ceiling revealed their creepy ways to the rest of the apartment world have been interesting. There has been a considerable increase in not only loud banging but also the use of their...
Garbage disposal.
No, seriously. They've never used their garbage disposal more than they have over the past week. The use of the garbage disposal always follows loud banging. Every time. Every creepy time.
The Creepertons have also decided to tackle many more things together than they did before, like getting fast food. Bitch Creeperton left alone late last week to get herself some Wendy's. She returned with naught but a soda. So either she drove to the furthest fast food restaurant from our complex just for a soda (even though we live literally behind a grocery store) or she inhaled her food on the way home. Upon her return home, she walked upstairs, got Mr. Creeperton and they left again. This time, they returned with Burger King. This time, Mr. Creeperton drove. She was fully capable of driving to Wendy's and back, but made the effort to get out, go upstairs and knock on the door, and then walk back downstairs to get in the passenger seat. Who knows?
Today has been the best. Maintenance people spent the morning and most of the afternoon gutting their apartment. They removed and replaced the Creepertons' carpet, linoleum and kitchen cabinets. Boyfriend has seen all types of plywood and scraps thrown into the "yard" and rolls of other things being taken out. We think this explains the increased use of their garbage disposal as I'm sure maintenance told them they'd be back on Tuesday to remove everything and the Creepertons put their "cleaning" efforts into overtime. I wouldn't be surprised if the garbage disposal needs replacing as well because I can't imagine human bones are broken up so easily. I know who to ask if I'm curious though!
So in the span of a few weeks they froze their air conditioner (remember, because the temperature was reaching a sweltering 55 degrees) and allowed their sink to leak so badly that they had to replace carpet, the floor and the cabinets. During this time, they never thought it important enough to call the complex and describe these apparently "minor" issues. No one was aware of the deterioration upstairs until those issues caved in our ceiling at one in the morning.
Even if it's not bodies, it's AT LEAST meth. I'm glad Boyfriend and I finally got renter's insurance. I'm also glad I'm now certified in pet CPR (in addition to the adult CPR certification that expires this month). I will not be surprised if both of these newly-acquired assets are put to use in the coming months as one of two scenarios likely takes place: 1) The current bodies are joined by our own as retribution for exposing the very dark and secret cover they had enjoyed for a year and a half, or 2) The meth lab explodes. Each of these scenarios is equally likely.
Garbage disposal.
No, seriously. They've never used their garbage disposal more than they have over the past week. The use of the garbage disposal always follows loud banging. Every time. Every creepy time.
The Creepertons have also decided to tackle many more things together than they did before, like getting fast food. Bitch Creeperton left alone late last week to get herself some Wendy's. She returned with naught but a soda. So either she drove to the furthest fast food restaurant from our complex just for a soda (even though we live literally behind a grocery store) or she inhaled her food on the way home. Upon her return home, she walked upstairs, got Mr. Creeperton and they left again. This time, they returned with Burger King. This time, Mr. Creeperton drove. She was fully capable of driving to Wendy's and back, but made the effort to get out, go upstairs and knock on the door, and then walk back downstairs to get in the passenger seat. Who knows?
Today has been the best. Maintenance people spent the morning and most of the afternoon gutting their apartment. They removed and replaced the Creepertons' carpet, linoleum and kitchen cabinets. Boyfriend has seen all types of plywood and scraps thrown into the "yard" and rolls of other things being taken out. We think this explains the increased use of their garbage disposal as I'm sure maintenance told them they'd be back on Tuesday to remove everything and the Creepertons put their "cleaning" efforts into overtime. I wouldn't be surprised if the garbage disposal needs replacing as well because I can't imagine human bones are broken up so easily. I know who to ask if I'm curious though!
So in the span of a few weeks they froze their air conditioner (remember, because the temperature was reaching a sweltering 55 degrees) and allowed their sink to leak so badly that they had to replace carpet, the floor and the cabinets. During this time, they never thought it important enough to call the complex and describe these apparently "minor" issues. No one was aware of the deterioration upstairs until those issues caved in our ceiling at one in the morning.
Even if it's not bodies, it's AT LEAST meth. I'm glad Boyfriend and I finally got renter's insurance. I'm also glad I'm now certified in pet CPR (in addition to the adult CPR certification that expires this month). I will not be surprised if both of these newly-acquired assets are put to use in the coming months as one of two scenarios likely takes place: 1) The current bodies are joined by our own as retribution for exposing the very dark and secret cover they had enjoyed for a year and a half, or 2) The meth lab explodes. Each of these scenarios is equally likely.
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