Sunday, May 22, 2011

Letters My Therapist Wanted Me To Burn...

Ok people, I'm feeling super cocky since the newest "Jesus" has total egg on his face today seeing that the world still exists - but it gave me an idea. Maybe not a good one, grant you, but here it is. Who would you write and vent to knowing that the world would end, for sure this time? Because God knows telling someone exactly what you think and then having to work with them could be rather awkward. You know the kind of letter, the one you were supposed to write, healing yourself by being completely honest regardless of how it would be accepted. Then burn it. Somehow watching the words curl up, yellow then brown and finally fly away is supposed to release the hurt.

What if you could see your letter in print, or e-print. I'm looking for letters that funny, sarcastic, heart-warming. Best letters will be chosen to be published in my upcoming book "Letters My Therapist Wanted Me To Burn"

So, write to me at and paste your letter in the body of the email. Include your name and address - pseudonyms are completely acceptable.

Saturday, May 1, 2010

Research indicates grave health risks to those who don't place dirty dishes in dishwasher!

Researchers discover that failure to place dirty dishes in dishwasher may result in memory-loss, paranoia, hoarding, loss of reasoning, blood loss, and death!

This just in from the Hot-Lunch Ladies Think Tank, located in between the creamed corn and gravy-of-unknown-origin, failure to place dirty dishes in the dishwasher have serious health-related consequences. A laborious fourteen-year research program uncovered that subjects were prone to these maladies on a daily basis but seemed unaware of the health risks.

Researchers found that memory-loss was the most common health risk. Subjects repeatedly used dishware, glassware, and cutlery and would immediately forget they had used them at all, thus resulting in failure to place them in the dishwasher. Related to this, one subject was prone to paranoia, convinced that they had placed the glassware in the dishwasher and another subject had removed it and put it back on the table.

The obsessive-compulsive behavior of hoarding was also observed. Several subjects who refused to place dirty items in the dishwasher were seen to be hoarding the dirty dishes in a secret location. This became apparent when there were no spoons or small glassware available and the researchers had to seek them out in order to continue the study. One researcher stated, “It is a bizarre behavior, it only harms the subject to not have clean cutlery. I just don’t understand it.”

More seriously was the loss of reasoning which resulted with blood loss. The researchers noted that if one subject placed a dirty item in the sink, all subjects then followed that example, without fail. The end result was a precariously piled stack of dirty dishes in the sink which most commonly resulted in glassware breakage. The researchers noted that the subjects normally had excellent logical reasoning, but when it came to glassware and dishware, they seemed unable to apply the basic laws of physics.

Most seriously is the consequence of death. Repeatedly during the study death threats were heard between subjects regarding the placement of dishes, either in the sink or dishwasher; and between the researchers and subjects. The study is on-going, without the benefit of government funding. However, we feel it is in the best interests of the nation to take a serious look at the grave consequences uncovered in this research. In a related study, failure to put clean dishes away resulted in loud vocalizations and increased blood pressure. The Hot-Lunch Lady Think Tank will announce its findings from their research on the effects of toilet paper and complete hand-eye coordination loss. So far the findings are very grave.

Sunday, February 14, 2010

The Donner Party might not have been starving...

Snow Day Four. Yeah, there's enough milk in the fridge, the pantry is filled too, but I'm thinking we might not all make it out of this... My money is on Sara, she's the smallest but she's scrappy.

Snow Day one and two are fine, and I actually wish every day was a snow delay. I love sleeping in. By snow day three, the kids are fighting, no one wants to play nice anymore, the laundry is done, the house is clean, and there is still NOTHING on tv.

The good news is that my students will be happy to return to school.

Tuesday, December 22, 2009

Christmas Wishes

“Mom, it’s ok, Santa knows what I want.” So, you’re totally panicked because your three year-old is positive that Santa knows EXACTLY what to bring and all he can describe is it’s the thing that goes “Aaah” when you hit it. Crap. So, not wanting to break the Christmas tradition you go to the toy store asking the knowledgeable clerk, you know the one that is at least old enough to bear children, which toy goes “Aaah” when you hit it. The look they give you is priceless. As they answer in a serious voice, “Can you be more specific?” your eyes narrow and you try to remain calm. “If I could be more specific I wouldn’t be asking you.” You take a deep breath and try to reason it out, “Which toys require batteries?”

Like THAT aisle isn’t long enough. Ok, so now I’m looking for a noise making toy that involves hitting. Why? Because it’s the ONLY thing on his letter for Santa. Seriously. Damn commercials. I should have never let the kids watch TV in the first place. If they didn’t watch TV, they wouldn’t know what was available. Those stupid, mindless commercials that they watch SO intently and I totally block out. I am amazed, they ignore the show only to stop, drop, and drool at the commercials. If only I had paid more attention I wouldn’t be in this dilemma. Argh. Why couldn’t he have wanted blocks?

It took me over a half hour before I finally realized, he wanted “Silly Golf,” an indoor golfing game that had little gophers that constantly chatted, and yelled when you managed to get the ball in the hole. I was so relieved, it was like finding out that the IRS had made a mistake and you didn’t owe taxes this year.

Christmas day came and he was delighted. You’d have thought Santa just got him a scholarship to Yale, or maybe chocolate. Batteries intact he played for hours. For hours we listened to the stupid little gopher chatter. About three weeks later, we were all thrilled when he was no longer obsessed. It moved to his bedroom, later it was sent to the basement. Finally it made it to the trash, several pieces missing, but still talking. I sneaked it into the garbage and felt slightly guilty as we walked by the garbage can and a little voice peeped, “Hey it’s dark in here, somebody turn on the lights.”

Still, the next Christmas, Michael remembered that Santa would bring him exactly what he wanted. And Santa did. Again.

Sunday, December 13, 2009

It's science fair time again....

Those words invoke fear into my heart, not so much because I have to organize the whole thing for school, but rather that I have to listen to the whining of my children as I shoot down one irrational idea after another.  Sure, I do hot lunch, but I also do science.  I can't stand bad science.  So, my daughter is excited to see if the blind spot changes with age and is shot down with the question, "And HOW will this improve the world?"  Hey, we all have blind spot, but our brain fills in the missing data, so really no point in studying it.  Dang.  My mom never was this harsh.  If I said I was building a nuclear warhead, she'd nod patiently and add, "Don't make a mess."  Of course, I never did build the warhead.  Instead I threw something together about candles creating more carbon than flashlights the night before the fair.  And no, I never did with the science fair. 

On the plus side, my kids all understood why Al Gore was an idiot undeserving of any prize, other than "Most Able to Hype."  They at least understand how to set up a controlled experiment, how to read data without putting your own personal spin on it.  I should really write a letter to Al's mom... 

I want good science. So my children (and my students) are stuck with a mom and teacher who refuses to allow them to compare Duracells to Evereadys, see which tastes better, or if blind spots are affected by age.  Let the games begin!

Thursday, November 26, 2009

Thanksgiving Breasts

Admittedly Thanksgiving usually brings extended families together, sometimes for the first time in a year.  You are more likely to notice that you're uncle has lost more hair, your cousin quit smoking and gained twenty pounds.  Of course, being polite, we never mention these things.  But, may I ask you, what do you say when you're cousin shows up with D-cups, and last year she was an A? 

I'm thinking that the five grand she borrowed from Aunt Mary probably never did make it to remove her wisdom teeth, or maybe that procedure has changed since I had it done.  Really, how does one handle this?  You know we are all stunned at the change in appearance, do you pretend it hasn't happened or do you comment.  Wow D, you look like a younger Dolly Parton!  I often wonder when people have cosmetic breast enhancement, do they realize they will have everyone they know staring at their boobs, speechless?  And probably not in a good way.  Talk about awkward. 

It's her choice, it's her body, but that doesn't mean we won't be laughing about this until New Years.  At least my sister is happy that this will be our favorite Thanksgiving story and the one involving her might finally be put to rest.  I doubt it though, she accidently left the turkey in her car overnight on a 60 degree night so then she had to find a new turkey on Thanksgiving day that wasn't frozen and ended up coming to my folks with two 16 pound turkeys instead of the 27 pound turkey my mom had entrusted her with two days before.  Hey, at least she didn't kill us with Salmonella though...  That 27 pound turkey had some breasts on it too...

Happy Thanksgiving

So you're spending the day with your family...  Let me know how that goes.