...in 5 days or less.
OPTION ONE: Five-day mimosa binge
OPTION TWO: Drinking game in which every time someone asks you if you feel "different" and then looks at you expectantly, you take a drink
OPTION THREE:
Bonus: This option will also take care of your new ipod deck which you have been looking for a way to destroy.
On the for-real plus side, Aaron (who says to tell you that he totally had all his hubcaps when he went to bed last night, and that one must have flown off and landed somewhere out-of-sight or rolled into the gutter or something) took my wedding dress out of the trunk when he got home last night. Not that I know what I'm going to do with it, but it's nice not to have the decision made for me in such an abrupt fashion. He also got to stick his head in the backseat and screech,"It smells like a brewery in here!" a la Nathan Scott Phillips. And, though it sounds funny, when a policeman shines his flashlight in through your screen door at 4 in the morning, there are much, much worse reasons than this.
RIP, ipod deck.
Mourn ya til I go to BestBuy and convince them that the 2-year warranty covers acts of drunk.
Thursday, August 30, 2007
Saturday, August 04, 2007
the nuclear family
We sort of accidentally got a third cat. Not that she's staying here permanently, mind...just that she wandered in the door a week and a half ago and kind of refused to leave. She's the sweetest thing in the world, silky and docile with a sort of bemused Luna Lovegood-ish gaze. But then I've been seeing Luna in everything since viewing the otherwise painfully mediocre Order of the Phoenix.
The Tiny (aka Nathan Scott Phillips, aka Bounce-Bounce) has gotten decidedly less tiny. This week I'm calling him Brown Bread, for his incredible weight and density.
For the most part the Major tries to stay out of their way, but the two of them together are a hoot. You can get a sense of their general dynamic here:
That kid I was talking about last time finally got transferred. Did he stab someone, you ask? Commit armed robbery? No, his final offense, the one egregious enough to warrant explusion, was walking out of his IEP meeting.
There's a lot to get upset about there, but whatever. He's gone.
I'm going to [gritted teeth] Stanford next weekend for a school retreat. As a non-improving PI school we're required to have an outside provider come in and magically solve the problems we're too stupid to solve ourselves - you may remember how much I hated our last Outside Provider. I wasn't alone, and collectively we chased them out, only to have them replaced by Stanford. Now, the Stanford ed school is the home of outspoken Program-hater Linda Darling-Hammond, so they can't be all bad, but so far their whole plan for the school involves spatial redesign, and since our school is already so cramped with additional buildings and "bungalows" (what we would have called "portables" back home) and there's no time or money to rebuild, their entire plan consists of "signage." You know - banners and umbrellas and such. Mostly banners. They were paid $2 million by The District for this plan. Not for banners and umbrellas, even - just for the mere notion of banners and umbrellas.
Anyway, I'm there Thursday through Sunday evening. If you're slumming it in Stanford those days, hit me up.
Overheard at work:
One maintenance man to another, heatedly: And they want us to empty trash, and spot-mop, and de-gum, and clean the sodas off the floors, and work as a team!
A kid (next to the side gate, lately closed to students, forcing them to walk all the way to the front of the school to leave): Let my people go! Let my people go!
The Tiny (aka Nathan Scott Phillips, aka Bounce-Bounce) has gotten decidedly less tiny. This week I'm calling him Brown Bread, for his incredible weight and density.
For the most part the Major tries to stay out of their way, but the two of them together are a hoot. You can get a sense of their general dynamic here:
That kid I was talking about last time finally got transferred. Did he stab someone, you ask? Commit armed robbery? No, his final offense, the one egregious enough to warrant explusion, was walking out of his IEP meeting.
There's a lot to get upset about there, but whatever. He's gone.
I'm going to [gritted teeth] Stanford next weekend for a school retreat. As a non-improving PI school we're required to have an outside provider come in and magically solve the problems we're too stupid to solve ourselves - you may remember how much I hated our last Outside Provider. I wasn't alone, and collectively we chased them out, only to have them replaced by Stanford. Now, the Stanford ed school is the home of outspoken Program-hater Linda Darling-Hammond, so they can't be all bad, but so far their whole plan for the school involves spatial redesign, and since our school is already so cramped with additional buildings and "bungalows" (what we would have called "portables" back home) and there's no time or money to rebuild, their entire plan consists of "signage." You know - banners and umbrellas and such. Mostly banners. They were paid $2 million by The District for this plan. Not for banners and umbrellas, even - just for the mere notion of banners and umbrellas.
Anyway, I'm there Thursday through Sunday evening. If you're slumming it in Stanford those days, hit me up.
Overheard at work:
One maintenance man to another, heatedly: And they want us to empty trash, and spot-mop, and de-gum, and clean the sodas off the floors, and work as a team!
A kid (next to the side gate, lately closed to students, forcing them to walk all the way to the front of the school to leave): Let my people go! Let my people go!
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