Dear Pop Music of the Late 80s, Early 90s,

How I miss your charms! When I revisit your melodic graces, I remember times of yore, when I was both young and stupid. Your cheesy gorgeousness melts my heart and puts a smile on my face.

When I hear the melodic tunes of Paula Abdul, "A buh-buh-bh-buh, Buh-buh-baba-bye-bye," or "Look into his eyes, oh, uh-oh, he's been telling lies," I have fond memories of Vh1 and the worst veejay of all time, Rosie O'Donnell.

When I hear the throaty wails of Taylor Dayne, "Tell it to my heart, tell me I'm the only one, is it truly love or just a game?" I think of Jem and the Holograms--I don't really know why; I just do. For some reason Taylor's siren and Jem are forever linked in my mind.

When I can hear the strains of Donny Osmond's "Soldier of Love" I feel the need to run around my living room and pretend to ice skate like Nancy Kerrigan or Tanya Harding. Again, who can explain the reason certain songs are linked forever with certain events?
Oh, late 80s, early 90s, I will forever remember when Will Smith was the Fresh Prince and lamenting that "Parents Just Don't Understand." I will revel in the days when Bret Michaels crooned, "Ev'ry rose has its thorn, just like every night has it's dawn. Just like every cowboy sings a sad, sad song. Every rose has its thorn." Ahh. The poetry. How much more heartfelt can you get then sad cowboy songs? Oh, Late 80s, it wasn't just your music I loved. But it was also your hair:






Oh how fondly I remember your charms--Do you ever miss Ace of Base? Or perhaps Color me Badd? I mean, who doesn't wanna be Sexed Up?

Dear Music of the Late 80s, early 90s, I will remember you fondly, for you were my first love, however misguided it was (can you say Mariah Carey). I cherished you, had girlish dreams about Casey Holbrook to you, and cleaned my room to your artificial sounds. Oh, Music of the Late 80's, Early 90's, you completed me then, and you make me happy now.

Floopy

And I should be grading papers to get ahead so I have a clean start on Monday. But what am I doing? Watching Friends. In my classroom. And I realize that a word that has worked its way into my vocabulary, "Floopy," came from season one, episode 4 of Friends. Who knew that something like a word would stick with me for almost 15 years? Crazy.

Just an Update

Well, I've been in the swing of things for officially one month, and already I am starting to countdown until May. What's the matter with me? Nothing, really. I am enjoying my classes, and I am enjoying my students. I survived Parent/Teacher conferences (blech), and my little Alice is a happy camper because she gets to go and play with Jovi everyday. So why am I on the countdown? I don't know. I just don't feel like I am supposed to be here anymore. It's a weird feeling, and I don't know if I can describe it. There's just this...thump down in my gut, and I know. My job here is done. But, unfortunatly, no one has bothered to tell that thump that my family can't go without health care, so here I am. But as I said, I'm not particularly depressed about it. Just...not right about it.

Anyway, what's been going on? Well, Joe is still working at Chris's Autobody. He really likes it--better than his last job, anyway, but I think he's feeling misplaced, too. He's told me that he doesn't feel liek this is where he's supposed to be, either. I guess we're just in a transition period, feeling like something is going to happen, but we don't know when or how or why, or how we can help it along. We're just doing the best that we know how. I am really lucky to have the husband I do, though. He works so hard--like everyone else's husband, I guess, but Joe is working on himself, as well. I have never seen anyone work so hard to be in tune to the spirit, and the amount of faith he exerts, just trusting that we'll be taken care of. It's amazing to watch, considering how much he struggled in the past with faith and trust. He's so strong!

Miss Alice is getting bigger and bigger! I can't believe it. Her vocabulary is constantly increasing, which means my (swear) vocabulary needs to decrease. Some of her favorite words are: home, Costco, Oh No, I know, no (of course), and night-night. In fact, she asks if she can go night-night. We readily oblige. She's starting to say phrases, too. The other day she looked at me and said, "Where Dada?" or "Hi Mama! Home." She is developing a taste for PowerAde. Don't ask me why. She is so funny! And she LOVES to brush her teeth!

I am finally teaching the schedule of my dreams: 2 classes of Honors English 10, 3 classes of English 10, and one Creative Writing. IT's what I have worked for, and my mind is brimming with ideas. I really want to focus on America and the Revolutionary period this year. I don't know why, but it's another one of those gut things that I feel I have to do. We'll see how it turns out.

We're still living in the same place, even though we're dying to get out. But, because of this LOVELY economy, we're stuck. For the forseeable future. We have decided the only way we are going to get out is if things suddenly turn around and the market goes up, or if we pay off the stupid thing and rent it. Guess what thing sounds more probable? WE're never leaving. Oh well. At least have a place to live, right? Anyway, things are good. We're happy, we're healthy, and we have what we need. What more could we ask for?

Coolest Thing EVER!

I was walking out of Chick-fil-A with my free chicken sandwich (the perks of being a teacher), and I saw what has been dubbed The Coolest Thing EVER! I wish I had gotten a picture of it, because it was, as I said, Super Cool, but I have a new fan-dangled phone that I'm not used to, and I'm a little slow on the uptake. But I will describe it here:

Red. Ferrari. License Plate that said "MAGNUM."

Folks, only one word comes to mind: BITCHIN'.

What's Happenin'?

Yes, I do realize that I have AWOL in the blogging world. And guess what? I don't really feel that bad. About six years ago, when I began teaching and had my first summer off, I realized a couple things about myself that had never been quite evident: I am a homebody, I don't like the telephone, I am perfectly happy not leaving the house for a week at a time, I hate the heat, and I feel no need to do something "home-makey" with my time. And these qualities have become much more clear and more exaggerated every year I teach, so that now, after six years, I am practically a recluse, secluded from the heat I hate, and perfectly happy with not doing my hair, wearing makeup, or going on "outings." I think it's just the nature of the school-teaching beast.

Maybe not. Maybe I'm just weird. Or maybe I just live on the third floor, and the thought of going up and down my stairs several times a day with a 15 month old in the stifling heat and humidity is too much for my fragile book-reading/crocheting existence. I don't know. And I have never really cared about it before. But I have to admit that this year I have felt a little guilty with my recluse-ing-ness of my summer life, because, and I'm sure if you have ever met my little firecracker you will understand, Alice is NOT a homebody. She gets bored walking up and down my hallway from her room the front room where I spend the majority of my time. She is stir crazy, as I am sure you will be able to see. The downfall of this is that she is still too little to do things on her own, like climbing the stairs to the slide, or playing in the park, or swimming without me. And this cramps my style.

As mentioned before, I HATE the heat. This is probably due to my elevated body temperature that I have always had that causes me to sweat like a black man in the NBA. It's embarrassing, quite frankly, and not to mention expensive when I have to keep my house at a cool 73 degrees with a vaulted ceiling. So I prefer not to go out in 100 degree weather and help Alice climb the stairs and slide the 1,000 or so times that she would if she were able. What I wouldn't give to have fall, winter, spring, and then right back to fall, skipping over summer completely.

Anyway, enough of my complaining--I believe my point was, in the summer, I prefer to disappear completely and shut myself off to all human life. And poor Alice was forced to accompany me. Hence the lack of the blog. (That was quite the long explanation for such a short point....sorry.) But, locked away in our little house as we were, we were still able to keep ourselves busy. What were we doing? Well.....

I have been doing... a little barbecuing (grilled peaches with low fat ice cream...YUM!),

a little writing,
a little reading,
and A LOT of crocheting.

Joe has been....trying to convince Alice to let him play with her in her new tent,
tearing down walls in our bathroom,


and then deciding that the wall wasn't enough, and the flooring and the vanity must go, too.

Alice has been... playing dress up (and yes, that is a Transformer's Mr. Potato Head box on her head),

climbing into places she shouldn't,



and feeding herself, which results in numerous "tubbies."

So here we are, nearing the end of summer. I have been busy being a wonderful stay-at-home mommy, a homemaking wife, and a crappy housekeeper. It has been wonderful, except for all the sweating I have done.

But it's not over yet. I still have a few good, solid days before I have to go back to being a hard-ass English teacher. And I have one more project...

This is the vanity I get to sand, primer, and paint this week so Joe can install it and start tiling. Quite the summer, if I do say so myself.

Attention Lehi High Class of 2000!

Our class reunion is coming up. Go visit the website if you haven't already...

http://www.lehi2000.myevent.com/3/whos_coming.htm

Alice's First REAL Word

As opposed to her fake words, I ask myself? No, not really. What I mean is that Alice has been saying Mama, Dada, Hi, and Kitty (although she's only said it once, and she can't make the "k" sound and replaces it with the "t" sound. Yes, Joe giggled a little when she said it. He's so mature...Okay, I giggled, too). But this was the first time something came out so clear and perfectly pronounced that we knew right away what she had said. Here's the story:

I was putting Alice's pants on after her diaper change and getting her ready to leave. We needed to go to Costco to pick up some yogurt, parmesean cheese, and Clorox toilet tabs (although we came home with two new books and no cheese). Anyway, I said, "Hey, Pretty, are you ready to go to Costco? YAY!" I want to interject here and inform everyone that I say YAY at the end of everything me and Alice do, so she thinks life is a great adventure. We clapped and celebrated today when she walked in and out of the house on our patio. I am NOT overly excited about Costco (By the way, this strategy also works well on teenagers. I always have this joke that raising Alice is about the same thing as teaching sixteen year old Sophomores English. I decided to put this to the test, so one day, every time my students participated, or did something good, I shouted, "YAY!" and clapped my hands and celebrated. They thought I was nuts, but that was the best class discussion the whole year...anyway, back to the story...)

So, I said to Alice, "Hey, Pretty, are you ready to go to Costco? YAY!" and Alice looked at me, stood up and said, "Costco!" and started clapping and jumping up and down. Which is weird, because Alice lasts a whole five minutes at Costco.

So. My daughter's first "real" word was Costco. What does that say about me?