Saturday, February 18, 2012


So it may surprise or not surprise you that I am kind of obsessed with books. Like so obsessed that I totally judge people with e-readers. I learned to read when I was like four and all my friends parents would show me off and be like, read the newspaper, child, and I would and they would all die and be jealous I wasn't their kid. Probably one of the reasons I'm still so annoying. But I read so fast that buying books is kind of a waste of money especially when that money could go towards shoes to read my books in. So I have rediscovered the library. [We actually had to switch libraries when I was a little kid because I read all the kids books there. That was at the OC library before it turned into some weird church/skatepark hybrid.]  Sooo anyway, I just finished reading ROOM by EMMA DONAHUGHE. [don't know if that's how you spell it, don't feel like googling her name.] I have this thing lately where I read the first two chapters, get anxiety and read the last six chapters or so  next. Then I work my way backwards through the book. [If I was going to use my psych degree on myself and really why not, I paid 30k for it (well, will be paying 30k for it when my student loans find out about my three jobs that barely pay my car payment and keep me in target wedges) I would say this is because I am trying to deal or not deal with a situation in my life that I can't control and don't know the ending to and I am afraid and it gives me bad anxiety and this is translating into my literary pursuits.] Anyway, enough about that, this is a book review.
      This book is about a little boy, Jack, and his mom who are locked in a room. The mom was kidnapped when she was in college and now they live in a shack and the guy who kidnapped her kind of like you know rapes her and so she has this little boy who has never been outside and doesn't know what real life is. Or what people are or what outside is. You kind of like them when they are in the room but then they escape  [I won't give you details and ruin it for you] and then they have to deal with things like rain and real life. The mom has to readjust to real life and the kid is totally overwhelmed by everything like shoes and sun and having to wear a mask because he's never been exposed to diseases. It doesn't really go so well. The kid is like totally obsessed with his mom because they did everything together in the room like taking baths and sleeping together. But it's like, why? That kid is six. He's way too old for to be taking naked baths with your naked mom for no reason. It just seems inappropriate. Which brings me to my next issue with this book: breastfeeding. The mom still breastfeeds Jack. Even though he is six. They have food, they have drinks. There is no actual reason for it. And it just makes me uncomfortable. It reminds me of that british lady on the news awhile back who was like breastfeeding her seven year old and everyone was like ABUSE! Like I don't know about calling it abuse but it is definitely super weird and gross and inappropriate. If your child can talk, it shouldn't be breastfeeding. I get it's like natural and old as the times and everything but I will never do it. It just grosses me out and makes me uncomfortable. I get there are supposedly super benefits but like put it in a bottle. That probably is a real big clue I'm not ready for kids myself, but usually when I make up my mind about something, it's done. Sorry future baby, bottles for life. Hope you don't turn out to be a slow, underachieving stoner or a scary kid who shoots up his high school like that psycho in We Need to Talk about Kevin [coincidentally will be my next book/movie review].

I know you can't wait.

Monday, February 13, 2012

forty-five minutes later.

and I just spent the better part of an hour making handmade valentine's for my family and my nanny fam and I am totally fine with v-day again. THIS is why I work so well with kids [most of the time].. because I hate something one minute and a half hour later I can't even remember it.

i can't decide

whether it's more or less depressing being around so many kids at valentine's day time. They get super excited about it, like it's totally the funnest day ever. and it's really hard not to say, enjoy the next five years of this day because right now you're v-day peaking, guys. When you grow up, everyone doesn't give you candy. Everyone doesn't give you heart shaped cards. If you're 'lucky' and you have a boyfriend, hopefully he made you a super romantic card with a picture of a bong on it.' If you're super lucky, when you grow up, you only get a treatable STD from your cheater, loser boyfriend for valentine's and not terminal AIDs. Or you're married and your husband works, or ignores the holiday, or gets you the standard, overplayed dozen red roses and you realize you're going to have to do this disappointing thing every single year until you're dead. I think it comes in waves and depends where you are at that year. Last year, I made all my students tattoo valentine's and gave them heart erasers to use in class [big deal when you're 5]. I got super into it, even though I was not seeing anyone at the time. This year, everything lovey and valentiney is just annoying me. I know I am hardly the first or last to complain about this, I just think even if you are happily in a relationship, because I've been there, valentine's [and holidays in general] are never as exciting as when you were a little kid. Real life gets in there and adds and adds as you grow up and it's just a little depressing sometimes. All the happiest times are from when you can't really remember too good.

**I know there are people who always have happy v-days and have thoughtful, rememberey type significant others who know exactly what you need and love, but let's face it, that is about 1.5% of the population and it's never equal and I also just don't want to hear about it. I'm sure there are even some nice single ones but they are probably on or hiding out in bomb shelters from psychos like me and as much as my mom and bosses tell me it could be a good idea, I just can't go there yet. I'd rather be one of those crazy ladies who live alone with their extra bedroom and oven filled with shoes and has some kind of weird animal thing.

Wednesday, February 8, 2012

Fun Suckers.

Let me take a minute to do some more complaining. [Complaining and day drinking; both hobbies I enjoy.]
School used to be so fun when I was a little kid. I was a pretty shy, chubby kid who wore a lot of leggings with oversize shirts that used to have these round circle things with a piece in the middle that you could put the corner of your shirt through to kind of cinch much fash, but it was the early nineties, cut me some slack. I also cut my hair super super short and on a sort of chubby little shy girl, that is not really the look that gets you places in life. But I digress.. Valentine's day used to be so fun when I was a kid..we got to spend time not doing math and making valentine's mailboxes for which everyone would put on their desk on v-day and get all their valentines dropped into. You were supposed to send one to everyone, but everyone knew you gave the biggest and best to the kids you liked the most and the boy you had a crush on. Sometimes you taped on extra candy.

...Now candy is the devil. You aren't even allowed to bring food product into school. And god forbid you ate a peanut in the last week, you're gonna need a HAZ-mat suit. You can tape an eraser to your valentines or nothing, basically. What kid wants an eraser for a holiday. Let me tell you, not many. This is Orange County, land of excess, where my kindergartners get ipad's for christmas [don't get me started on this]. An eraser is not going to impress anyone, sorry I'm not sorry for letting you know. If I was a mom, I'd be recommending temporary tattoo valentine's, it's the next best thing to candy. You also are given a list and DIRECTED that you must send one for each kid in the class even if one of them tries to dunk your child in a toilet or makes fun of them when their grandpa dies or steals all their pencils and shit. I know those kids. I have them in my classes. They don't deserve a tattoo valentine. They don't even deserve an eraser one. They deserve an empty mailbox or even better, a note from the mother saying 'I don't care if you're six, stop being such an asshole or I'll come to your house and beat up your mom.'  I personally feel that this everyone is equal and deserves equal everything sends the wrong message. It says hey kid, you can be a total douche your whole life and everyone will still give you a valentine because they have to. So don't ever change because you have no reason to. There is no incentive there.

This post just got way longer. It was originally intended to be about how I am an awesome baker and have learned how to make really cute cake pops and package them better than starbucks and I am not allowed to bring them to my students and make them like me and have their moms be jealous of me when they bring them home because of all these stupid newfangled rules that make it so I will get sued if someone's kid drops dead because two months ago I dropped a peanut on my counter and now their kid inhaled the .000000001 millisomething of peanut dust. Lawsuits are annoying and I know some people who sue people for everything even though really it's like come on, you've got to be kidding. Stop being such a douche. No one likes someone who sues people for every little thing. It makes them not want to be around you, because what if you read this and sued me for slander even though this is actually true because I watch you sue everyone. [Anyone who watched Real Housewives of Beverly Hills knows this is actually plausible.]

Falling out of love.

Today I realized I may be falling out of love with my art teacher job. I used to think it was 'the most funnest day[s] of the week" to quote some of my old students. But lately I have been dreading my days at school. It has just lost the shiny new appeal of something fun and different. All the quirks of my more boisterous students I used to think were cute and funny are now just disruptive and headache inducing and a little annoying. [I think there is a parallel here to the very short term sort-of relationships I get myself in and out of, but that's a story for another blog.] If I were to headshrink myself here [the only time my psych degree comes in handy and self-analyzing myself is hardly productive or a smart decision because I am not exactly objective about myself], I would say that this is why I have (and have had) SO MANY FREAKING jobs. I get bored easily. Things lose their appeal. I don't like commitments that don't have a sustainable future. I dislike things and try to squirm out of things once I realize they will lead to nowhere or are dead-ends. I don't know if it's that I've finally reached a year in this job and subconsciously I feel like I've reached some expiration date. But today when my student [ref: earlier 'she's baaaack' post, it's the same kid I'm talking about] said the following things "are you wearing makeup, like black on your eyes, it's really scary..why do you have a tattoo, it's really ummmm ummmm... i don't like you...' and called me Mrs. S about seven times even though it says Miss D on the board and everyone else calls me by the right name, I just wanted to send her to the principal and kick her out of my class for good. This is a six year old I'm talking about. I can't believe I found myself wishing I never had to see her again. That is like teacher blasphemy. Maybe it's because, despite the fact that she says mean things to me in front of everyone, as well as to other students like 'you don't even have a dad' and 'your picture is ugly' and actually spends more time out of her seat than in it and when I turn my back is going through my stuff and on my phone and writing on the board, I know that when I talk to my boss, she's just going to give me 'helpful' suggestions that I've already tried and don't work. And nothing really to actually help me. My boss is the nicest lady possible. She loves kids and she loves and believes in her company, but she isn't in the classroom anymore. She can say all she wants but she isn't there when you are at your wits end and  every kid in the class is frustrated because they can't pay attention or hear or see because of one or two psychotically disruptive kids and it's the first day and you know your students are going home and saying 'I hate art class, don't make me go back' to their parents. The lesson here is that kids [and potential love interests, random, but also on my mind] don't always do what you want. And don't listen and don't behave as you feel they should, and according to my mom, I am such a 'rigid' person that I can't adapt to things that fall out of the lines of what I think is right or proper. But to me, these things aren't so crazy to expect. People should control themselves. Even kids should be nice to one another. Sit in your chair means sit in your chair. Don't say inappropriate things means I know you know what is appropriate and what's not and I know you are saying these things to test me and I'm tired of it.  When all you want is go somewhere else and get away from them because one bad one has ruined all the rest for you. [eerily parallel again, to my 'love' life or lack thereof]. And I think that is how you fall out of love.