Niagara Calling

Yes, this past weekend (starting Friday morning at 5 am and finishing Monday evening at 9) I was sent to Niagara Falls to be trained. Now, if you have never heard of the International Baccalaureate Organization, go look it up, but it's the way most schools across America are going (say goodnight, AP).
My school wanted me to be trained so I could warp even MORE fragile little minds. Thus my adventure began early Friday morning (five to be exact). I woke up and said goodbye to my not-so-happy wife. Fine, no problem there.
Now I was traveling with three of my colleagues, all guys. Two of them are older, one is close to my age. All three of them were, uh, unprepared for the travel.
Maybe it's just that I'm a nerd when it comes to traveling. I printed my boarding pass the night before, so I could just go through security and go to the gate. I also knew we were flying on a smaller plane, so I packed a bag that would fit (I managed to put a weekend's worth of clothes, including shoes, a laptop, and some books into one bag that could fit in a tiny overhead bin). The other three...had more than one bag, which meant checking baggage. We also discovered that when the seats were booked, the other three were all seated together in the back, while I was banished to the front. Still no problem. At least we made the same plane.
After an hour and a half of hearing every little bit of our plane strain against the wind, we landed in Cleveland. Have you ever been to the Cleveland airport? It's probably where Dante traveled in The Inferno. Maybe that's too harsh...WAIT, it's not. Looking around the airport as we were landing, I noticed that it's all developments. Neat little squares surrounding an airport built in a gorge. So attractive.
Of my group, I was, again, the only one really prepared. I knew where the gate was, the amount of time we had, and more. Did I get made fun of by my colleagues? Oh most definitely, but I knew what was what. They ended up following me to find everything.
A quick 38 minute flight later, we landed in Buffalo. If you don't know, there are two ways to get to Niagara. You either fly to Buffalo and drive up, or you fly to Pearson Airport in Toronto and drive down. My school chose Buffalo, which, much like Cleveland, has developments around it...and not much else (Again, if you're reading this and living in Buffalo or Cleveland...uh...sorry, but...prove me wrong).
Once again, my nerdiness came through in Buffalo. I had booked myself on a bus which would take me right to my hotel. A roundtrip ticket was 80 dollars American. It was seventy-five dollars American one-way by cab. I thought I had the better deal. The other guys traveling with me had not done anything, so they took the cab (In the end, with tip, they ended up paying 60 U.S. dollars each. Guess they showed me...oh well).
The bus ride was quite eye-opening. There were 22 seats and 21 people on the bus. Guess who had the open seat the whole way? Come on....Yes, you in the back. You have an answer? That's right, it WAS me. I was smiling, I was congenial, but not a single person wanted to sit next to me. I rode that hour long bus ride all by my lonesome. There were a group of gals from Florida who ended up talking to me at the border (and then followed me around all weekend, but that's a story for another time).
The Canadian border. Wow, what can I say? It's kind of disappointing. When I was a child, I traveled from West Berlin to East Berlin with my father. We had to go across the famous Checkpoint Charlie. It was frightening. Large men in uniforms looking over my father and me and talking in a harsh language (If you've never heard German, it's very gutteral and very harsh to the ear. Not a romantic language). When we teachers made it to the border, it wasn't imposing. It was a shack on the side of the road. Not a building, folks, but literally a shack.
The biggest problem? The teachers who had obviously never been out of the country. The officers asked us each one or two questions:
"Country of origin?"
"Why are you going to Canada?"
Etc, etc, etc.
The first few of us went through with no problems. Then Carol stepped up. I can't forget her name, because she's one of the ladies from Florida who followed me around all weekend. Carol stepped up to the counter and promptly said, "Wow, I don't have ANYTHING to smuggle into Canada...wink, wink."
It was one of those moments where everyone in the room just thinks collectively, "OH MY GOD! SHUT UP, YOU IDIOT!!!" The border guard's face turned colors, because he was so angry.
He called everyone back and asked us all the same question: "Do you have anything you cannot bring across the border?" Another ten minutes, and we were on our way.
I got to my hotel long after the other guys (However, they were held up at the border as one of them is a nice shade of brown, which makes him look Middle-Eastern...not fun for him). Again, as a travel nerd, I booked my hotel room well in advance. The other guys? Waited until the last minute. Now, the Sheraton is one of the newer hotels in Niagara, and it's where the conference was to be held. That's why I wanted my room there, and why I booked early. Lots of gorgeous, new, gleaming rooms waiting to be inhabited. The hotel, however, had other ideas.
I stepped up to the counter and spoke to the nice Canadian woman.
"Hello, you have a reservation for Leab?"
"Hmm. Oh... Mr. Leab, yes. We did have a reservation for you...."
"Um..I'm sorry. Did? As in no longer?"
"Well, Mr. Leab, we had a problem. Our computer...lost your reservation. Then we booked up fot this conference...and we found your reservation again."
"So what you're telling me is...?"
"We don't have a room for you here, but we did book you a room at another hotel. Um, sorry sir."
Now, a less civilized person would have probably exploded in anger. I admit, I did have a flash of annoyance, but I just rolled with it.
"So which hotel is it?"
"The Brock Plaza. It's not a far walk from here. Go out that way and turn left. Then walk all the way down, you can't miss it."
I felt lucky to have a room, but as the weekend would roll on, I would become upset. While the other guys had views of the Falls, I could see...a wall. Two of the other guys had a fireplace in their room, and one guy was bumped up to a suite. Bastard. I had a bed, a table that hovered slightly over the bed (and I hit my head on once), and thin walls. I would hear my neighbor's gymnastic-like sex all weekend long. Oh how I WISH I was kidding. The other guys could roll out of bed and go to breakfast and the conference. I had to roll away from the table, shower, and walk over. Don't get me wrong, the hotel was nice, and I'm glad they had a place for me, but I was annoyed that I wasn't with my colleagues.
At least going to the Falls that first day was nice. With overcast skies, everyone tried to stay inside. Not me, I walked straight toward the Horseshoe (I can't tell you how far away it was, but I know that from my hotel, to the Horseshow Falls (with a twenty minute stand and stare), to walking back took almost two hours. It was gorgeous. I don't care if the sun was shining or not (later it would), but I thought it was nice. The roar of the water drowned out the people around me. I couldn't hear them unless I really tried (in this case, there were Germans, French, Japanese, Chinese, Iranian, Indian, and more around me speaking their native languages. It was like the UN, but more relaxing). If you ever get the chance, go and see the Falls. It's amazing to see this natural wonder of the world. Awe-inspiring power created by nature.
The opening night of the conference was a waste. The Plenary (or introduction in laymen's terms) was basically a giant "congrats for being on the right team" speech. Lame.
My colleagues and I headed out to dinner that night. Not really knowing Niagara, we stopped where our "Elder Statesman" told us looked good. In this case, it was The Pilgrim Restaurant. This was a mistake. We ate alone. An entire restaurant, and we were the only customers. This is one of the only restaurants in Niagara that is not a chain. Obviously, most tourists want nothing to do with this restaurant. They are not necessarily wrong. While our waitress was great, the food and the atmosphere weren't. As one of my colleagues put it, "I ordered a burger. It's hard to screw up a burger. They DID screw up my burger."
That first night was, honestly, not too bad, but Friday as a whole would come to represent my weekend. A roller coaster ride of positives and negatives wrapped in the neon warm glow of a town that used to be so innocent.
Tomorrow, day two, or how Leab became embarrassed when women made indecent proposals.
"I ain't getting on no plane!"

Ramblings for the Evening (3/29/06)

Phew!
It's Finals Week this week (we're on a quarter system, so fourth and final quarter starts after Spring Break).
I'm trying to keep my head above water and get grades in and such. Good stuff.
Let's get to it.
So, without further ado: OLE JACK SAYS, "WHAT THE HELL?"
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The Death of a Great Show:
Well, it's official: Arrested Development is dead. It's creator is taking a walk rather than deal with all the strife that Fox, Showtime, and ABC are giving him. I'm not sure I blame him, but, DAMN, I love that show. I'm sorry to see it go. At least its ending was such that the loose ends were tied up. I really hate when a show ends with either unfinished questions (Um, The X-Files) or with lame plot twists (Damn you, St. Elsewhere).
Au revoir AD. I eagerly await season three on DVD.
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The "American" Past Time:
I know I'm late with this, but I find it absolutely fascinating that the United States, the INVENTORS of Baseball, could not even make it to the finals of the World Baseball Classic. That's right, the finalists of the TRUE World Series were Japan and Cuba. Baseball is HUGE in Japan (More so than here, I believe), and Cuba's baseball heritage is very rich, but there's something so incredibly funny about the U.S. team just stinking it up. Am I the only one who thinks this?
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Niagara:
The school I work at sent me to a training session this past weekend. (Those who are interested can see the organization who sponsored it here.)
I had not been to Niagara for ten years. The last time I was there was with my mother. We were driving to Michigan from New York, so we went upstate to take the Queen's Expressway across Canada (It's faster than going through Pennsylvania).
Now, ten years ago, Niagara was, well, quaint. There were some hotels, but almost everything was geared toward the falls. It made sense that people would go there to get married or honeymoon. It was quiet and serene.
My return was unfortunate. Beyond the travel issues (to be dealt with in a later post), Niagara was now, for lack of a better term, Mini-Vegas.
When my colleagues and I got to Niagara, we went our separate ways until the opening ceremony (also known as "The Plenary"). I decided to walk around Niagara, get some exercise, and see how things had changed. The hotel (and the waterfalls) were near Clifton Hill. Signs proclaim it as, "The most fun street in Niagara!" Sadly it was "fun" because of the THREE haunted houses, the TWO wax museums, and the chain restaurants (such as Burger King). Looking up Clifton Hill, which is a hill, I saw tourism run wild. Behind me, the beauty and power of the falls roared. It was an amazing dichotomy.
At night, the true changes could be seen. There was no darkness anywhere in the town. With a brand new casino lighting up the night, you could see everything regardless of where you were. They even light up the falls now, which, while beautiful, seems slightly insane.
The Canadians I spoke to have tried to disassociate themselves from the Canadian side of Niagara. One guy I spoke to, from the lovely town of Kenora, explained to me that Niagara was now, "an embarrassment."
"Why?" I asked.
"We're quiet folk up here, eh? This town...it's too American now."
"Not to be rude, but what does that mean?" I inquired.
"You guys like the flashy stuff. That's why you're the biggest tourist percentage here. You and the Japanese. You love the flash of this place."
Honestly, the more I think about it, I'm not sure he's wrong. Seriously. The more I travel, the more I see places that are tourist traps. They are designed to bring in people who spend money like crazy. With SO many places, Niagara is now a tourist trap. On a side note: The Museum of Crime! You cannot have Michael Myers as you first "real" criminal. HE WAS NOT REAL! Charles Manson? Real criminal. Al Capone? Real criminal. Michael Myers and Freddy Krueger? Not even close.
It's unfortunate the way the place has changed, but change is a natural part of life.
Tomorrow, more on the conference and the details surrounding it.

Border Crossing

I'm back.
I'm tired.
I hurt.
It was a long weekend.
There was good, there was bad, and there was weird.
I could easily write a week's worth of posts on what happened over the four days in Niagara Falls (and I just might do that).
Niagara Falls has changed a great deal since the last time I was there (which was ten years before this visit). The simple beauty of the place, such as the Skylon Tower reaching to the sky, is now overrun with neon.
However, I'll talk more about that later.
The conference was successful, but slightly frustrating and, in some ways, strange.
Again, I'll talk more about this later.
It's finals week, and I have a lot to write.
Namaste.

MAMBO!!!

Sorry, I've got way too much West Side Story in the brain right now.
Sadly, I just got home ten minutes ago from school (that's a 14 and a half hour day).
My wife...not so happy.
Basically, I have my short post here, then I need to try and sleep. Wife's orders.
I will try to ramble tomorrow, but here's the deal.
I have West Side tomorrow and Wednesday, Thursday I have classes, and Friday I will be in Niagara Falls until Monday (for business, not fun...sigh).
I will post when I can.
Sorry, dear readers. I'm trying to find the time right now.
Namaste.

Ramblings for the Evening (03/15/06)

The week is half over.
Yup.
Great intro, Leab. Oh well, moving on....
So, without further ado: HEY! WHERE'S THE OTHER GUY!?
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Brilliant Parody:
For her birthday, I bought my wife an ipod. The more I learn about Apple, it's ideas, and it's marketing, the more impressed I am. Simplicity is the easiest way to market something. That's why I really like this parody. It's dead on about Microsoft and its marketing tactics. Now, before you think, "Wow! This is really funny. Who could have ever come up with this?", you should know it was created by a guy AT Microsoft (Check out this story for details). I have seen some truly horrible marketing campaigns in my time. For every "Expedia.com" ad, there's the "Travelocity" Roaming Gnome. Now if you like the gnome, that's your thing, but I personally hate those commercials. The gnome is imcompetent, yet he's the mascot for the company. Hmmm, am I to take from these commercials that the company is also incompetent (I mean if there was a person working at the company who was as stupid as the gnome, wouldn't he or she be fired?)
There are others, as well. I can't stand the Empire Carpeting theme anymore (I have heard it WAY too much on the radio and on TV).
Back to the point, however. There are some fantastic parodies out there. One of the aspects of The Simpsons that makes them still funny is the show's use of satire and parody. I saw an episode recently that parodied the opening of Catch Me If You Can. It was brilliant. It's the same reason (dare I say) that I like the Hot Shots movies. Having seen Rambo as a kid, the spoof of the films (down to casting the same actor, Richard Crenna, from the Rambo films) is brilliant. Watch Rambo II & III, then see Hot Shots II and you'll see what I mean.
Thanks to Dennis for the ipod story.
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More Frustration:
Sigh.
I have essentially "volunteered" my services to work on a show at school. I say volunteered, because I was not told until a few days ago that I would not be getting extra pay. Beyond that, there are now two directors, and they cannot agree on where things go (upstage, downstage, upstage, downstage, etc).
You know, if it wasn't for a few key seniors working on this show, I'd walk. I'm serious, that's how pissed off I am right now. I'm trying to put together a set with no money (wait, make that my OWN money), we have only two or three working microphones for a large cast, and seven lights that I'm supposed to hit the whole stage with AND be able to isolate cast members.
The worst part is that I am actually hearing whispers about how MY work is subpar. Sigh.
I hate venting....
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Sheep
Many of my students are sheep. That was the decision I came to earlier today as we made our way halfway through Animal Farm. I love Orwell's story. If you've never read it, I highly recommend you go and pick it up. The fable is an allegory for the Russian Revolution, but it's also applicable to the world we live in today. I had to explain why being a sheep is a bad thing (you don't think, you just follow), and needed examples to prove it.
"What did Kanye West say about Bush?" I asked.
"George Bush hates black people," I hear in stereo.
"How do you know?"
Silence.
"Come on," I start. "You just said it's true, so how do you know?"
"Look at New Orleans."
"So that's all Bush's fault?"
"YEAH!"
"What about the mayor of the town? What about the governor?"
Silence.
"Ok, beyond New Orleans, are there any other examples you can give me?"
Silence again.
I waited a very long twenty seconds.
"No one can give an example?"
"No," one student tells me, "But we all know it's true."
"Why?"
"Because Kanye West said so."
This is the problem with our teenagers and with this country. Too many people take what pundits say at face value without researching the facts.
Here's an example by me:
Dick Cheney hates old white men. How do I know? He shot one. Accident? There's no such thing as an accident folks. That's what Freud says. Accidents are subconscious desires made real. Therefore Cheney's shooting of a white guy is actually a deep subconscious desire to eliminate the white man.
There you go folks. A convincing argument. Now, if you believe me without actually, oh I don't know, checking the facts, then you're a sheep. You're willing to take everything I say without question. In that case, I'm starting a religion. Yup...send me your money, and I'll tell you the secret of life.
Of course what do I know? I'm just a wolf in sheep's clothing. I could be wrong.

Ramblings for the Morning (3/13/06)

I'm not a happy camper right now.
Yes, it's Monday, and there should be mail, but the mail sent to me was mostly...pathetic (I won't talk about certain former morning anchors anymore, and hatemail is BORING).
So, you get Ramblings instead. How is it that I can ramble at almost ten in the morning...on a school day? Well, this is my prep. Instead of grading, which I need to do, I'm writing. I'm too angry to grade right now. I might write something I regret.
So, without further ado: I'M MAD AS HELL, AND I'M NOT GOING TO TAKE IT ANYMORE!
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Snow Daze:
I get it. It snows up here in Minnesota. Yes, it's true that I am from the East Coast, and we get snow as well, but not like this.
Let me cover a few things here, folks, that are just really angering me today.
1. The plows. I should have taken a picture the other day, because it is covered now, but ONCE AGAIN, the plows hit my lawn and DESTROYED the front. They even took out a sprinkler head.
2. Driving. You would think Minnesotans would be used to this kind of weather. I've been here only five years, and I have no problem, but it took me an hour and ten minutes to go from my home to school. Normally, even on the worst days, it's only 30-40 minutes. People spun out in front of me, people slammed on their brakes when a car merged two lanes over. It was ridiculous, and quite dangerous. Why isn't there more done in driving schools to prepare Minnesotans for this?
3. My school district. Sigh. We're open today. So is Minneapolis. That's it. EVERYONE else is closed. We had many buses just not show up today. In my first hour class, which usually has 30 kids, I had 12. 12!!! Those kids went through the lesson with me, but inevitably I am going to have to re-teach it tomorrow, because 18 kids were missing. Nevermind the fact that teachers are missing (mysteriously the guy who lives across the street is unable to get out of his house...sigh), and nevermind that I was almost run over walking across my parking lot. Oh, and it was by a bus. I saw the headline flash through my mind as the yellow came closer. "High school teacher run over by bus. 'Ironic death,' proclaimed the AP."
With more snow on the way and more buses telling us they don't feel safe enough to drive, why are we still here?
It's not fair to the kids or the teachers.
Ok, rant over.
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Panera Follies:
When you go to a restaurant, you get to see the things about life that both fascinate and frustrate. My wife and I went for brunch at Panera yesterday (and finally went grocery shopping for the first time in three weeks following) and saw a plethora of social faux pas (I can't spell. Michele, is this right?). Let's start with our entrance. Upon entering the lovely restaurant, we got in line to order. As we were about to step to the counter, a woman, who had been looking over the pastries like a hawk seeing a chick, stepped in front of me and started ordering. Now, the clerk behind the counter said, "Ma'am, they were here first." The response?
"Oh, well, they don't mind. Now, I want...."
"Actually, I do mind," I replied.
"Yeah, get in line, lady," my wife said.
At this point the four people behind my wife and I start chirping as well. "What are you doing, come on, etc." The woman just stares at us.
"Why do you hate me?" she asks. At this point, my wife and I turn and lock eyes knowing full well that this lady is crazy. If you cut people off, and then ask why people are angry, you're either totally oblivious, or damn crazy. I picked crazy. She turned around and started ordering again. Luckily, the other clerk beckoned us over. All five couple/people were done ordering before this lady. She then sat on the floor and waited for her food. Not a table, the floor.
My next favorite part came with the lady behind me. As I waited for my wife's hot chocolate, I listened as this woman tried to talk on her cell phone and order food.
"So Darren then said it was wasteful. Yeah, I'll have a Fandango salad. Wait...Oh not you (indicating the clerk) I was talking to her (indicating the phone)." This went on for a while. I could see the veins in the clerk's neck starting to swell with anger. Have we truly become a society where manners are totally forgotten in place of convenience? How hard is it to just say, "Hey, I'll call you back in a minute after I order," or something like that? This woman never got off her phone. She talked to the other person on the line for over a half an hour at least (the amount of time my wife and I were there). It's rude. I understand that people get lonely, but it's so rude. I get pissed when my students text in my class. Why? They aren't paying attention. They are disrespectful then and that's how I felt about this woman on the phone.
The final fun part of this societal observation came when I took our trays to the trash. As I walked across the place, a man in a nice suit was turning circles. I was unsure what he was looking for at the time. It turned he couldn't find the trash can, but more on that later. So, I'm walking by, and he puts his fork and plate on my tray and says, "Here, you can take this for me."
Let me reiterate something. The last time I checked, I'm a teacher. Maybe not the best teacher, but a teacher. I don't work at Panera Bread (or St. Louis Bread Co, which is how I know it). Now, when I learned that this guy was unable to find the trash, I still was pissed. Rather than say, "Excuse me, I cannot find the trash can, can you help me?" This guy says, "Here, you can take this for me." I REALLY wanted to smack him. He had this smug smile that was close to a shit-eating grin and just pissed me off. Instead, I took his fork and plate and went over to the trash can. Then I said, "The plate goes here, and the fork goes here," quite loudly. I noticed he was ignoring me and was back with his dining party (or group...call it what you will). So, I walked over to him, coughed, and held out my hand. "What do you want?" he asked.
"My tip," I responded. "I mean, I did just take your plate and fork over for you. I deserve compensation now."
He just stared at me. My wife, who saw this happening, called me over in order to avoid trouble.
"I guess," she said, "I can't take you anywhere." That's about right.
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UPDATE! (8:05 PM)
When I got home from work today, I could not get into my driveway. The plow had come around again and was either not paying attention or reads my blog. My driveway was completely blocked by (and I measured it) a four foot tall snow bank. Starting at 4:30, I shoveled my driveway until my neighbor could get the snow blower working, then I did the rest of the driveway, cut off about half of the snow bank so we could get in and out, cleaned my other neighbor's driveway, cleared a path for my mailman, and then cleaned the machine. The best part? I feel down the edge of my driveway TWICE. The second time I hit the back of my head. I still hear a ringing, and my vision is slightly blurry.
Oh, and I found out that Minneapolis canceled school as well leaving St. Paul as the ONLY district in school today. Sigh.
I need to get off the computer now. My eyes are starting to hurt.
Namaste.

Fun with Lists (Part Seis) 3/08/06

What a long day. I had a former student of mine visit again today. Every single time I feel like I am a totally worthless teacher, I'm going to start remembering my first class. Those kids kicked serious ass and reaffirmed my love for this profession. There was an interesting op/ed piece in USA Today about how the teacher cannot be blamed for everything. The students have to meet us halfway. We can only present the information, we can't make them take it. One point the author makes is about how students try to take the easy way out. I see that with many of my freshman. My classes grew in the first week, because many students in the Pre-IB classes decided the class would be too hard. I say "would be" because the students looked at the syllabus, panicked, and got their parents to move them down. The question becomes: Is a B in a regular class better than a C+ in a more difficult class? Only colleges know for sure.
I know some of the seniors read this blog. Let me make two things clear:
1. Do NOT put in my name to speak at graduation. I have heard murmurings, and I HIGHLY recommend you don't ask for me. You will be disappointed.
That being said....
2. If you want to talk smack about me, I don't care. If you want to make fun of me, I don't care. However, you cannot step up to me, talk about how much I don't help you and that I'm useless to you...then come to me for help. When you shut the door, boys and girls, that door is closed. You don't get to tell me how much you don't need me in one breath and then beg for help in the next. We're not in an abusive relationship here. You don't get to give me a black eye and then tell me you love me.
How do I know what you're saying? Easy. You never check (or in certain cases think) before talking. I just might be in the hall nearby, in the room, or even right behind you.
Many of you have come to me for advice, counseling, whatever. You don't get to beg for help and then bitch about what you're getting. You don't like it? Don't ask me then.
Now that I have that out of the way, I have a list that I, uh, procured this from the lovely, talented, and currently needing illumination Michele. Enjoy.
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9 Lasts:
Last ball to the face: Last summer. I was playing in a tennis league and played an OVERLY competitive opponent. As we warmed up, the gentleman decided to test me, so he smashed an easy lob at me and hit me in my face. I ended up beating him...though I didn't get to hit him back.
Last cheer: Uh...does imitating the Spartan Cheerleaders from Saturday Night Live count? Otherwise, gosh, uh, I don't remember ever cheering in the sense of cheerleaders.
Last kiss: twenty-seven minutes ago (as I write this. I mean I am married, folks).
Last movie seen: In general? I watched The Seventh Seal last weekend. Still a brilliant film.
Last phone call: As I write this, I'm talking to my sister in Seattle.
Last CD played: Peter Gabriel, Hit
Last bubble bath: I was 11.
Last time you cried: When my grandmother died. So, three years ago.
Last beverage: Water, baby, water.

8 Have You Evers:
Have you ever dated one of your best friends: Dated her? I married her. (Air five.)
Have you ever skinny dipped: Ha ha ha... yes. Sigh.
Have you ever kissed somebody and regretted it: Yup.
Have you ever fallen in love: Yup, three times. Married the last one.
Have you ever lost someone you loved: By death? Yes. By her cheating one me? Yes.
Have you ever been depressed: Sure.
Have you ever been drunk and thrown up: Yup. I call it college.
Have you ever been in a fight: Yup. Thrown haymakers and all.

7 States You've Been To:
I'll discount where I live and where I have lived (so MN, NY, CT, MO, and MI are out).
1. California
2. Washington
3. Vermont
4. Illinois
5. Florida
6. Georgia
7. Texas

6 Things You've Done Today:
1. Organized paper work (including tests)
2. Built a railing for a scaffolding (in order to help someone conquer a fear of heights)
3. Made dinner for my wife and myself
4. Taught three classes
5. Laughed with my wife about our days
6. Cleaned my bathroom

5 Things in No Order:
1. Hockey
2. Theatre
3. Cooking
4. Felines
5. Caroline

4 People You can tell [Almost] Anything To:
1. My sister
2. My sister
3. My mother and father (yes, I'm cheating)
4. My lovely wife

3 Wishes:
1. Happiness and prosperity for the people in my life (whether you like me or not).
2. (Slightly selfish, but) To one day bankroll a critcally acclaimed and financially prosperous movie.
3. A true understanding of who I am.

2 Things You Want To Do Before You Die:
1. To scuba dive the Great Barrier Reef
2. To take my mother to the French Open.

1 Thing You Regret:
Not listening to EVERYONE around me when they warned me about my Ex.

So there you go. A little more insight into who Leab is.
Tomorrow... I don't know. Maybe some slander, maybe just ramblings. I'm not sure. I need to look at my court order.
Best to you all.
Namaste.

Mail Mondays (03/06/06)

Sadly, as I write this post, I have been informed that Kirby Puckett has died. Though I don't really care about Minnesota sports (yeah, I'm from New York, folks), it is quite depressing to see a man at die at 44. So young.
I have some mail, so let's get to it.
Mail time.
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Leab,
How's your sister?
A Nosy Reader.

Dear NR,
My sister's fine, thank you. Her surgery went well. She's in pain, and what's worse...she cannot pick up her daughter for about a month. When you have a two year old, that's tough. Any well wishes can be commented here, and she will see it later.
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Leab,
Why did you go into teaching?
I read your previous entries, and I get the sense that you're not happy teaching.
Am I wrong?
A Possible Teacher

PT,
You're wrong. Sorry, but there's no other way to put it. I love teaching. Are there days when I get frustrated and I want to put a kid through the wall? Sure. Everyone has days like that. Every job, no matter what it is, has days where you just get frustrated. My wife, who I believe to be the most even-tempered person I know, has days where she tells me she wants to kill a co-worker. Hell, she tells me I'm lucky because at least the people I work with ARE kids, not just acting like them.
Why did I go into teaching? I always enjoyed it. It's a chance to shape people to create a better future. I always tell the kids that I hope I help them to become rich and famous. Then they'll come back and give me money for all my hard work. Will it happen? No, but it's fun to dream.
In all seriousness, I do it for many reasons. Some are selfish, others are not.
1. I do it to help clear out my head. If you teach, you know what I mean.
2. I do it in the hopes of training a new generation to fix the world.
3. I do it because I love a challenge, and teaching is the ULTIMATE challenge.
4. I do it because, at times, it's the most rewarding job.
5. I do it because I learn as well.
So there you go.
Peace be unto you.

Ramblings for the Evening (3/5/06)

Time passes quickly ending my restful weekend and preparing me to run back into the burning building.
Rather than wax poetic, let's just get to the ramblings.
So, without further ado: WILL NOT BREAK...IT BROKE....
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PTCs:
Sigh.
Thursday night was Parent/Teacher Conferences (PTCs). Now, I mentioned that my school LOVES me in my teaser (hey, as DeRusha mentioned, I could always work as a news writer....), and I meant it.
I went through the whole day of teaching, then, after school, I worked for two hours getting the set of West Side Story started (for which I have two weeks left to finish). It was tiring. With seconds to spare, I bolted from the auditorium to the school cafeteria (thereby getting ZERO food in my stomach before hand, which meant for the entire day I had eaten some pretzels and a cereal bar) to meet with parents. As I mentioned before, I had only 8 parents signed up and at the most random times (there were gaps of over an hour). So here's where I discover how much I'm loved. I know which two teachers I am supposed to be between (there are only a few teachers with "L" beginning their last name. I get to the corner and... there's no "Leab". I look around thinking maybe they misspelled my name again or put me in the wrong place. No luck. My administration forgot about me. There was no sign, no sign in sheet for parents, and no place for me to sit. Luckily the other two teachers were able to make a small area for me. I generated my own sign-in sheet by ripping a piece of paper out of my planner, and I used one of my grading sheets for my sign.
Eventually the IT lady saw my predicament and printed a sign for me. That was about it.
The parents? Well, that was even MORE fun.
11 different parents showed up. Most of them asked zero questions, and set of parents showed up at 7:00 (as I was leaving) and BEGGED me to meet with them. The father was drunk, and the mother kept making apologies and asking questions that had nothing to do with me. (Here's a hint: I teach English, so asking me about Chemistry...not my thing.)
Was it the worst experience? No. I didn't have a parent show up and throw all my stuff on the floor and accuse me of hating his or her son (one teacher did have this happen).
The highlight of my night, however, was hanging out with and talking to a teacher's ten year old daughter. I did my impressions of Shaggy, Harry Potter, and more. She just laughed. I taught her new word (Gobo. It's the piece of metal you insert into a light to make shapes and such) and met her imaginary friend.
How sad is it that the highlight of my night wasn't meeting parents or talking to students or fellow teachers? No, the best part was hanging out with a ten year old. I guess it's because she's at my mental speed.
You tell me: Should I be pissed that my school forgot about me?
Imagine you have to present at a conference, and they forget to put you on the agenda. Wouldn't you be hurt just a little?
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Anniversary:
Friday was my five year anniversary.
I had plans.
Over the course of our entire relationship, I have been able to surprise her at least twice a year by do something for her. This year I had set a plan in motion where I would sneak into her work, and be at her cubicle with flowers and a gift. Two of her co-workers were in on it and were going to distract her while I snuck in to her cubicle. Then, later on, we had reservations at Vincent. I had been planning this for a while. It's what I do. You can call me callous. You can call me a real son of a bitch, but when all is said and done, I love my wife.
So, with all this in mind, my anniversary was horrible. My wife left work early because her back gave out. She sat in her chair wrong and pinched her Sciatic Nerve. This meant she was not at work when I left school, and it meant we were not going to Vincent for dinner.
I spent my anniversary pretty much carrying my wife around the house so she could use the bathroom. Our dinner? Oh, I'm glad you asked. We did what we usually do when we move to a new place: We had Kentucky Fried Chicken. Good stuff.
So, let's review: Thursday was a killer day, and then Friday, which was supposed to be fun...not so much.
Don't get me wrong, I love my wife, and if it wasn't for her, I'm probably dead. That being said, it was not a good anniversary for either of us. She was in pain, which was rough for both of us.
As I write this, her pain has only slightly subsided. This morning, she tried to roll over. The pain overtook her and she shot out her arm. That's how I woke up this morning: my wife punched me in the face.
And finally:
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My Family Should Just Buy a Room:
My sister is going in for surgery tomorrow. This is her second surgery in under a year. Now, Since I was a junior in high school, one of us has pretty much been in a hospital for at least a day or two every year. This includes my sister's surgery, the birth of my neice, all of my father's health issues, and more.
I don't know if you'll read this, sis, but I hope your surgery goes well and you're back on your feet in no time.
As to the rest of you, my dear readers, I wish you health, wealth, and better days.
Tomorrow, I have mail for you.
Namaste.

Pass Along

Holy crap.
I'm not even going into this tonight.
Tomorrow you'll get the whole story about PTCs and more.
Overview? Not so good. My school LOVES me.
Yup.
That's all I got tonight.
Let's just say, the anticipation or the build up will be good for you....
Oh, and I'm proud of you, Greta....Yup.

Teachers Never Die...They Just Go To Home Depot.

The school I work at is preparing to perform West Side Story. Not my favorite musical, but not my choice. Moving on....
I am attempting to fix the steps the actors and actresses will be using to get up to the scaffolding (there is a balcony in the show, you know. It's essentially a musical version of Romeo and Juliet).
So, in order to save money, I had to go and pick up the wood. For those of you who have never done it before, it's $59 for any delivery. I was only getting some boards and a sheet of plywood.
So, I start talking to the guy behind the contractor's desk about getting the wood together.
"Where's this going?" he asks.
I tell him the name of my school.
"Oh...what for?"
I tell him about the show.
"So are you a teacher?"
"Yes," I reply.
"What do you teach?"
At this point I start feeling that little pang of frustration you get when a person is bored and trying to learn your life story.
"I'm an English teacher."
"Really? I used to be an English teacher in Farmington."
It's at this point that my jaw must have gone slack, because he next asks me:
"Are you ok?"
"Yeah," I reply. "Just shocked. How did you go from teaching to...uh...here?"
"I got sick of the politics. I loved the kids, but I hated everyone else. There was a day.... A student tried to hit me....I...responded in kind by throwing him up on the wall. I was protecting myself. The principal disagreed. It was crap."
I listened to him for ten minutes talking about all the reasons why he left. I felt like a priest taking confession.
"Let me ask you a question," he said to me finally. I felt like an idiot standing there with all of my lumber.
"Go ahead," I put forward.
"Do you like teaching?"
"Yes. I like working with the kids. Even when I want to put a head through a wall, I would take working with these kids over working with man-children any day."
"That will change."
Such negativity.
He continued.
"I no longer miss the classroom. This (he indicates the store) is easier to deal with on a daily basis."
I start to go.
"I'm not the only one here who's a former teacher."
He indicates three other people standing together.
"Ted and Rhett used to teach in Bloomington. Sheryl (or maybe it was Cheryl, I didn't see her apron) was a teacher in Apple Valley. All three left for the same reason I did. Too much politics, not enough autonomy in the classroom." (The fact he used autonomy shows me he was an English teacher.)
While packing my car with the lumber I had just bought, I started to wonder: "Is this my future?"
Will I end up leaving teaching at some point, disillusioned by everything, and working behind a counter at a home improvement store?
"Light bulbs? Aisle four. Shattered dreams and burnouts? Those of us who work here."
I don't know.
I love teaching.
A colleague of mine always says, "The hardest part of teaching...is the other teachers. Not the students, but your colleagues."
I don't know where I'm going with this, but the shock of talking to the guy at Home Desperate really got me thinking about my future.
PTCs are tomorrow. Huzzah.
Oh, and Greta? Congrats. Yahk-ob (as I call him) is a nice boy.
Namaste.

Different Day, Same Problem

PTCs are on Thursday night. For those not in the know, those are Parent/Teacher Conferences. These are lovely little meetings that usually go in only a few different ways:
1. The parent does not show (More often then not, this is the case).
2. The parent sees the high grade and praises the student.
3. The parent sees the low grade and blames the teacher.
4. The parent sees the grade and begins yelling at the student AND the teacher (happens more often than you think).
5. The parent feigns interest and then hits on the teacher.

I'm not going to lie to you. I do not like PTC time. I have over a hundred some-odd students in my classes. So, how many parents do you think are signed up to meet with me?
Anyone?
Anyone?
Bueller?
8.
That's right, 8.
Now, here's the other part of it:
Inevitably, you will have to see the parents of students who DON'T need it.
In my case, 7 out of the 8 students whose parents have signed up have between an A and a B. That means that 1 parent of a student not getting a high grade is coming (that student is getting a C).
Will parents not signed up come? Some might, but I can tell you this already:
I will be sitting at my little table for over an hour with not a single student or parent coming by to see me.
Why is it that the kids who REALLY need to have their parents there never get it? Why is it when you call a parent about it, they freak out?
I don't think I have ever partaken in PTCs without some sort of drama.
While I was student teaching, my supervising teacher sat next to me. He was teaching one of the classes (I couldn't yet as it was an advanced IB class), but the parent never looked at him once. They kept their eyes and asked their questions to me.
Another time I had a parent ask me if I was available to "get a drink." I just said, "I'm sorry, when this is over, I need to get home to my WIFE." Good times.
It's no wonder that the average teacher's lifespan is ten years shorter than the national average.
8 students signed up, and only one really needing to have parents there.
It almost makes me feel useless.

Mail Mondays (02/27/06)

Tomorrow is the last day of February. You know what the means, folks? It's almost Spring. That's right, earlier sunrises, warmer temps, and puppy love (damn Freshmen).
On another note, we have parent/teacher conferences on Thursday night. Already? Really, Virginia? Damn...that seems quick.
Well, let's get to the mail.
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Leab,
How dare you insult the men and women of the United States Olympic team! How dare you rail against the United States! You call Americans selfish, yet at least these men and women are representing their country. What have you ever done?
If you didn't feel the Olympic Spirit, that's because you don't understand the American Way, not because the athletes didn't.
Angry American Man

Dear AAM,
The "What have you ever done?" questions seems to be the big one being mailed to me. Have I ever been an Olympic representative for this country? No.
Look, there were positive stories at this Olympics as well as negative ones (just wait for Bud Greenspan's next Sixteen Days of Glory doc), but let's be honest, the negative outweighed the positive. Sasha Cohen won the silver, which is amazing, but she also stumbled from the gold.
Joey Cheek won gold and silver medals and donated his money, but then we have Shani Davis and Chad Hedrick acting like idiots.
We had Lindsey Jacobellis fall just inches from winning the gold, and when asked about it, she lied at first about trying to be a hot dog. On the flipside, we had Lindsey Kildow who took a horrendous fall, but came back to at least try.
Don't even get me started on the Men's Hockey team. They were embarrassing. There's no saving grace there.
Americans are selfish. The Italian who won the final medal dedicated it to his sister and talked about sharing it with his team and his countrymen.
The Americans? Well, they talked endoresements. They talked about using the medal to pick up chicks. Period.
Yes, it was the best showing outside for medals outside of the United States, but so what? Will you remember that Joey Cheek won gold, or will you remember the bickering and the failures? Whose name comes to your mind first: Bode Miller or Julia Mancuso?
If you mentioned Miller, then you remember the blustering and the failure.
If you mentioned Mancuso, you're probably not telling the truth.
Am I cynical? Oh hell yeah. For the Europeans, the Olympics are given a Super Bowl like atmosphere. I remember being in London during the '84 Olympics. Daley Thompson, the British decathlete was cheered for by EVERYONE. It was like a fever. Even though the games were in Los Angeles, I bet most people cannot name the American decathlete who competed against him.
We don't get that way here. It's the same thing with the World Cup. Millions upon millions tuned in to watch the brackets being drawn. It would be like every single person in America tuning in to see the NCAA Tournament Brackets being made. Not going to happen folks.
If I seem selfish, I'm not sorry. This isn't me being selfish, it's me calling it like I see it, and it isn't positive.
The bottom line: the American Way no longer really exists. It used be about determination, responsibility, and understanding. All three of those are missing now.
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Leab,
Why is that "certain parts" of your blog are now missing?
Citizen X

X,
I have no comment.
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Leab,
What's your take on the lotto winners?
A reader in Nebraska

Nebraska,
Wow, you must be bored if you're reading me in Nebraska.
Umm, well. I wish them luck. I heard that somewhere around 70% of the people who win the lottery go on to be bankrupt or have incredibly difficult lives. There's a reason that the saying goes, "Money is the root of all evil." The green-eyed monster usually rears its head around the Benjamins, as it were.
There was a woman who won the lottery here in Minnesota. Now she's in jail.
The guy who won in, where was it, Arkansas, lost a ton of money, and his granddaughter died.
Look, most people win the money and don't realize they're in a higher tax bracket. They then spend the money like crazy and when tax time comes around, they're in trouble.
The best thing you can do if you win the lottery (and this is if you win a bunch of money) is get a good lawyer and a financial advisor before coming forward. Seriously. I know if I ever win, that's what I'm doing.
However, I don't think I ever will win. Why? Well, beyond the astronomical odds, I don't play the lottery. It's almost like flushing money. It's a form of gambling with worse odds than Blackjack. I'd rather save my cash and keep working. Why? Well, if I stopped working, I would probably go insane.
So there you go. That's my take on the lottery winners. I wish them the best of luck and hope they're smart.
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So that's it for mail tonight. I hope you're all doing well.
Oh, and Greta...you have only 26 hours left to do your thing.
Best of luck.
Namaste.

Ramblings for the Evening (02/26/06)

So here I sit having finished my grading...more or less. There are some parts of my classes that I cannot add until after tomorrow (luckily grades are due on Tuesday).
With my wife out of town again (let me tell you something...it's a lonesome old town when she's not around), I'm just sitting here, having a glass of wine (If you MUST know, it's a Fieldstone Merlot), listening to some calming music (Songs of the Auvergne), and writing.
There's slim pickings tonight as I had to shun the outside world in order to get my students' grades together (yes, I did have everything together in my gradebook, but I had to get it all online).
So, without further ado: SKIIINNNNEER!
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Random Sightings:
Ok, my wife made me relax on Friday night, and we watched a few of the television shows that we recorded during the week (I do not want to use Tivo as a verb because the CEO of the company says he doesn't want it used that way). One show that we watch is 24. Is it as good as when it first started? No, but it's still great at making me bite my nails...occasionally. So, we're watching the show, but of course fast-forwarding through the commercials, when we see John McCain. That's right, Senator John McCain had a walk-on role on 24. His role? A lowly intern who delivers papers to another character. It's a blink and he's gone role.
This is a double-edged sword, as it were. On the one hand, it's kind of cool to see McCain. I really did say (out loud, I must admit), "Holy Hannah, that's John McCain." Then, I hit the rewind button (DVR...very cool). Now, the problem here, however, is that I found myself wondering, "how the hell does he have the TIME to go and do this?" Whenever I see someone in politics on a show or in a movie, I wonder when they find the time. Maybe I'm just naive about how politics works, but aren't these men and women on call almost 24/7/365? James Carville, who is supposed to be helping the Democrats win back some power, seems to have the time to appear in numerous films. Jesse Ventura, while governor of Minnesota, seemed to find time to work as a referee and film a few films. I could go on and on. Still, it was cool to see McCain.
Other sightings?
-Random as it may be, I ran into a girl I went to college with over the weekend. I'm at Home Depot buying some paint (I need to re-paint the guest room of my house) and I get hit from behind with a cart. It seems the driver was not paying attention. As I turn to begin a verbal lashing, I pause because this person seems REALLY familiar. Turns out she is. We had a few classes together in college. After a few "oh my, you seem familiar...oh sure we were in these classes together" moments, she tells me all about her life since college. It was not a happy story. Divorce, restraining orders, having to move twice because psycho ex-husband wants the kids...etc, etc. I feel bad just hearing this stuff. Why? Because my life is not so crazy. There were a few moments of guilt on my part, but I managed to quash them.
-A former student of mine accidentally walked into my class looking for another teacher. It was great to see her. She's currently in college and told me I really helped her. I needed that. The only downside? I allowed my freshman class to talk to her about questions they might have, and instead of asking about what they need to do to be successful, they asked about the "crackin' parties." (This from a little white boy). Another kid attempted to hit on her (Again, he's a freshman in high school....She's a freshman in college. Major differences in maturity). All I can say is que idioto. Still, it was great to see her, and she made my day.
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The Camera Crew:
I was unable to go and join the crew Margaret put together to point and shoot around town. My wife and I were indisposed at the time. A buddy of mine, however, said he saw them at the Basilica (I think he's full of it, but he SWEARS he saw them. He's also slightly stalking Margaret, but that's another story...which reminds me...where's my bat?) during their break. If I could have, I really think I would have dressed up as a homeless guy, waited across from the Starbucks, and taken some more photos for Slander A La Leab. (I mean, I could always use MORE legal trouble, right?)
Spring will come, they'll do it again. Then I can go.
and finally,
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The Olympics End:
Does anyone really care? Seriously.
What happened? When I was a kid, I used to LOVE watching the Olympics. There was something almost magical about it. These people were our emissaries, the very representation of what was supposed to make our country so great. Now? Not so much. If you go by these Olympics, then our country looks quite stupid. We get Bode Miller. A man who shoots his mouth off about skiing drunk, has a ton of Nike commercials talking about how great he is, then he does NOTHING. Not a single medal.
We get Lindsey Jacobellis who shows off at the finish line...and FALLS DOWN. She finishes second.
We get Shani Davis and Chad Hedrick. Teammates who openly and publicly feud with each other. Never mind that you represent the UNITED States of America. Never mind that you are on the same team. No, you can bitch and use the media. That's the American way!
And, my favorite, you get the American hockey team playing badly, then blaming it on everyone else but themselves. Mike Modano, a staple of the team, blamed it on the fact that the players' families were taken care of very well. Huh?
Look, once upon a time, it was an honor to be chosen as an Olympian. It was huge. Yet, it really seems that this year's athletes carried more about their possible endorsements instead of actually showing why they are the pride of America.
Was everyone this way? No. Look at Joey Cheek who donated his medal bonus to charity. That's great.
Except for his stupid feud, Shani Davis did something never seen before in Olympic history: A black man winning a gold medal in the Winter Olympics. That's huge.
In the end, however, the athletes I mentioned are the perfect representation of our current ways:
We talk big, but are unable to back it up.
We screw up at the last minute by not taking it seriously.
We remain individuals instead of teammates.
We don't take responsibility and blame it on others when we fail.
Maybe I'm being too harsh, but I really feel the spirit like I usually do. In '96, '98, 2000, and even 2002, I was pumped for the Olympics, and I saw these Olympians represent our country with dignity.
I didn't feel it this year.
Then again, what do I know? I'm not an Olympian, and I don't have a medal to use to try and "pick up chicks." I could be wrong.

Ramblings for the Evening (02/22/06)

My grades are due when? Already? How can it be mid-quarter ALL READY?!
Sigh.
So, where do we stand right now? Two productions coming up, impossible demands being made, one idiot teacher trying to live up to those demands (guesses on a name, folks?), and one district cutting funds which could be trouble for non-tenured teachers (you know, like me).
Let's get to the ramblings.
So, without further ado: ROSEBUD!
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Lost Weekend:
Now, I have proof that my wife does not read my blog. As you'll recall (or not), I purchased a massage for my wife for Valentine's Day. Now, I told you, dear reader, and I told my wife she would get a surprise on Saturday, but I did not tell her what. That was to be her Saturday morning.
So, even though it was the weekend, and even though we could have slept in late, my wife and I arose around 7:30. That's right: we got up early on a Saturday (THE HORROR!!!!) and made our way to downtown Minneapolis.
You may recall that it was cold that day (around -7, but who's looking?) and many people decided to stay indoors (off the top of my head, almost all of you). After depositing my wife at Litespa (the Foshay tower location), I started walking the city. Now, I'm crazy, but I'm not stupid. I started outside, but eventually, as my nasal passages froze over making me breath like a Baldwin brother, I went inside and made like a hamster (or the skyway for those of you who are from Minnesota). Those of you who have never really walked the skyway are missing out. It's not the fact that you feel like a hamster or a gerbil (oh, Lemmiwinks), but the fact that you can actually see society via the skyway.
For example, there was a girl dressed to be trendy. Basically, jeans with tears EVERYWHERE. Instead of going inside, she walked up Nicollet avenue in the cold. Was it so important to look good and freeze?
Other examples:
-I stopped at the Caribou Coffee in Gavidae Common and tried to answer the question for 10 cents off (I'm cheap). "What is the most dangerous neighborhood in Minneapolis?" I was unaware that it was Phillips (I thought it was Camden). When I answered, the four lawyers around me started arguing about what determines a neighborhood is dangerous. Let me tell you: It's always funny when lawyer says, "I object to your notion," when plainly speaking. Shows they've been on the job too long.
-Watching a woman desperately try to keep me from getting on the elevator with her. As I walked up, she was slamming on the close door button over and over again. When I got my arm in and got in, she frowned. "Sorry I held you up," I forwarded. Another frown. Was she afraid of me or did she just not like the look of me?
After retrieving my wife (she was happy), I began working on my house again. I love my shack. Ok, it's not shack...moving on. I had a room to paint (it's now yellow), fix some furniture, and clean, clean, clean.
After that, the weekend is a haze. It feels like it was a million years ago (not a few days). That's the power of work. It takes over your life.
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Movie Theater Changes:
Ok, there's a bright idea out there (excuse me if your screen is now dripping with sarcasm) for getting more people to go to the movies.
Ready?
Ok, it's in multiple parts:
1. Ticket prices will depend on how well a movie is doing. So, films like the Lord of the Rings trilogy will stay at full price, but Deuce Bigalow 3 will drop in price when no one goes to see it. The worse a film is doing, the cheaper it will become.
2. You will be able to pay more to reserve seats. You want that center seat? Pay 12 dollars instead of 9 and it's yours. The downside? If you show up early and sit there, then someone reserves it, you'll have to move.
3. It will be cheaper to reserve tickets ahead of time then buying them at the box office. As a colleague of mine pointed out today, "So everyone now has a credit card?"
4. Popcorn and soda will be sold only in combos. Why? That one makes NO sense. I seriously don't get it.
5. Cell phone jammers will be installed in theaters. Now this is one I agree with in principle. I love that kids won't be able to text and call each other, but there needs to be a way to contact help in cases of emergency.
Look, my wife put it best. "Movie theaters have a simple business practice. The movies come in, we pay to watch them, the end. So, if they start changing practices and trying to become something they aren't, the business will fail."
It's sad but true.
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That's all I got for tonight.
More tomorrow.
Peace be unto you.

El Dio de los Presidentes

Evening folks.
There's no mail this week. I mean there is mail, but most of it is either hatemail (which gets boring after a while) or questions about where certain aspects of my blog have gone (which I will not be talking about anymore...nuff said).
So, because I had no school today and because my wife did not have to be at work, we both relaxed today (which was hard).
I'll talk about my lost weekend tomorrow during ramblings. Tonight, I'm going to have a glass of wine, finish painting one of the bedrooms, get my tests together, and go to bed.
Boring? Yup.
Do I care? Nope.
I hope all is well with you, dear reader.
Here's some cats to make the day, uh, bright. Unless you're allergic...in which case...uh...sorry.

Big Favor

I'm trying to be nice.
I'm tired. It's been a long week (with the only real sunshine being the visiting lecturer to a colleague's film study class).
Now, my blog has changed...and it may change again.
See if you can find those changes.
Imagine you get a letter. After a long time, a person contacts you out of the blue and asks for a favor...a large favor. One that requires you to make three and a half hours worth of changes.
Essentially, this person needed me to do something for them, and I had no choice but to capitulate and do the deed.
Am I happy about it? No.
Do I like the way it was presented to me? No.
Would I like a favor back? Yes, but will I get it? No.
The key to life is being able to adapt. No adapting, you die.
I'm trying to adapt.
And yes, I meant what I wrote yesterday: I do read those blogs (and more) daily. Reading is the greatest way to expand your mind.
That's all I got tonight. I really don't want to go to court.
Until tomorrow,
namaste.

Fun with Lists (Part Five) 2/15/06

It's spirit week at my school. Woohoo....
Don't get me wrong, it's great and all. The students get really into it, but...well, I lose class time for a pep fest, for showcase, and more. It's annoying. I may have to move a test now.
I'm not whining. There were some great moments today. I love the crew I'm working with on West Side Story. They're predominantly freshman and super excited. I told them we would be painting and building next week, and they FLIPPED with joy. It's kind of cool to see. I still hate the show, but that's neither here nor there.
Today, instead of a story or ramblings, I present another fun list about me. You know they make you laugh/think/cringe/insert verb here.
Enjoy.
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Four jobs I've had:
1. Teacher
2. Document clerk/paralegal
3. Electrician/props master/stage manager
4. Movie theater usher (that was an interesting time).

Five movies I can watch over and over again:
I have to choose only five?
1. Blade Runner
2. Dickie Roberts: Former Child Star (I can't believe I'm admitting that).
3. Defending Your Life
4. Memento
5. (My list, I can add one more): Emperor's New Groove (I like a kid's movie...get over it).

Four places I've lived:
1. Minnesota (Robbinsdale and Brooklyn Center)
2. St. Louis, Missouri
3. Michigan (Bloomfield Hills and Monroe)
4. Connecticut/ New York

Four TV shows I love:
1. Arrested Development (Possibly the greatest show ever.)
2. Batman, the Animated Series (I really loved that cartoon.)
3. 24
4. Scrubs (though I also love the Office.)

Four places I've vacationed:
1. Heiligendamm and other parts, Germany
2. Sonoma and San Francisco, California
3. London, England
4. St. Lucia

Four of my favorite dishes:
1. Swiss Chicken with Rice Pilaf and Broccoli
2. Filet of Sole with Lemon Butter and Carrots
3. The Fries at Cafe Lurcat
4. Maple Mustard BBQ Pork Chops with Butternut Squash

Four sites I visit daily:
1. Admin Worm
2. DeRusha
3. Michele
4. Margaret
(5. Avocado, MN Speak, IMDB)

Four books I've read and loved:
1. Carter Beats the Devil by Glen David Gold
2. The Life of Pi by Yann Martel
3. Animal Farm by George Orwell
4. The Inferno by Dante Alighieri (I like strange books, I know. It's hard to limit to four, folks.)

Four places I would rather be right now:
1. The Great Barrier Reef, Australia
2. St. Lucia
3. New York
4. Wherever my wife is.
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There you go, folks. Enjoy. Thanks to Miss Cado for the idea.
Have a good night folks.
Until tomorrow,
namaste.
Oh, and watch out people, tomorrow is Thursday...and Steve has given me some great ideas for what to with certain readers.

Valentine's Day Pass

Well, boys and girls, it's Valentine's Day.
It's the day when boys and girls fret over whether or not they got chocolate...or flowers...or whatever.
Why does it have to be only one day a year? I'm not bitter, folks, I just don't like how much the day has become commercialized. The price of a bouquet of roses goes up by almost 40% this time of year. Sure, it's supply and demand, but it's kind of frustrating.
My wife and I made a deal this year: We wouldn't get anything for each other, and we wouldn't do anything. Why? We're both very busy. I'm not even sure when she's getting home tonight.
Did I listen? No. Now I was unable to sneak flowers into her office like previous years, but I did get her a gift: an 80 minute massage at Litespa. (Am I afraid she's going to see this? No. She doesn't read the ole blog.) She needs it, so it becomes a great gift. Did I buy chocolates or flowers? No.
And yet, my students are convinced I am bitter. Why? Well I didn't wear red today (I wore brown. It's what was clean), I didn't give out any valentines (Are teachers supposed to do that?), and I made fun of a simile given to one of the students (It read: "Your eyes are like chocolate. I want to dive in and eat them." That would be cannibalism, boys and girls).
So, I'm done for the day. I have a test to write and sets to design....Oh and I'm still waiting for Steve to send me some pictures....I'm going to burn for that one.
May you have a fantastic Valentine's Day regardless of your marital or dating status.
Namaste.

Mail Mondays (02/13/06)

Ah, the night before Valentine's Day. I once read, and I have no idea if it's true, that VD is the third largest time of suicide in America (after Christmas and Thanksgiving). What a strange tidbit. Well, that's just how things go I guess. I'm tired. Very tired. My classes are tough this semester. I'll get there, but it's tough.
I've been getting many people looking for the backwards Jingle Bells deal I posted a while ago. (It's here if you must see it.)
Let's get to the mail:
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Most of it was strange this week.
Leab,
What's with ripping on your fellow bloggers?
Was it really for "links to your blog" like DeRusha said?
That's not cool.
A Fellow Blogger

AFB,
No, no, no, NO! It was NOT to get more links or traffic or whatever. I think DeRusha was kidding (you were, right Jason?), but I'm not sure. Look. They say that press of any kind is good, right? Well, I just sort of...slandered the people I read the most (though I neglected a few people in order to use them in round 2....Yes, Virginia, I am a bastard).
Did Sopheava respond? Sure, she even had a post about it. Did DeRusha say something? Sure. Did Girl Friday say anything? No. Why? Well, probably because she didn't see it. And if she did...uh...I'm not funny.
Look, I did it because I figured they could take a joke (they can) and it would be funny (I guess it was...I don't know. I have a hard time deciding if I'm funny. Long story).
If you laughed, sweet. If not, sorry.
That being said: Steve. If you ever read this. I need another...good picture of Margaret.
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Leab,
What's the story with the "giant pain of driving home" on Thursday?
You tease...but don't deliver.
COME ON!!!!
EF

EF,
Wow. A little passionate.
Ok, so, as you know, it snowed on Thursday. I left the school I work at in St. Paul a little after 2:30. Usually, it only takes about 30 minutes to get home (traffic, stop lights, and such). It took me over an hour. People seemed unable to deal with snow on the roads. OOOOOHHH, let's drive 10 miles per hour in between two lanes because we have no freaking clue what a lane could be. Do we suddenly forget HOW to drive because we can only see the lane lines twenty feet instead of every foot? Sigh.
To the point.
As I drove up Hwy 100, I was passed by a brand new red Ford Mustang doing at least 65 (I was going 55 due to the snow and the guy in front of me). Right as the car passed the guy in front of me, he swerved and spun out. As the car traveled across three lanes, everyone panicked (except me...I'm a freak). The Mustang finished its spin right into the side wall. Too bad, because it was pretty. Anyway. About ten minutes pass. I'm still on 100 (again, people in front of me can't find the lane) when I hear that familiar purr. The Mustang, now dented in the front, shoots by me AGAIN. That's right, the guy driving hasn't learned his lesson the first time. He shoots by me and is unprepared for a car to switch lanes. He hits his brakes...and spins out again, but this time it's in the middle of the highway. The car in front of me slammed into the Mustang and gave it a second dent. I managed to slow down and move lanes without a problem (that's what happens when you don't drive like a maniac).
It's amazing to me that some people just cannot and will not learn after the first mistake. It's like touching a hot stove. Oww, that's hot. Hmm. I'll touch it again to make sure.
Que idioto.
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That'll be it for tonight. I'm tired, and I have a lot left to do.
Until tomorrow,
namaste.