Blogging While Reconstructing Yo' Face

Hello! The semester is sadly coming to an end, so this could be one of the last posts of the year. Waah, wahh.

If you are wondering, this week's picture is brought to you by perhaps the most dedicated reader (so far), Amber Roberts, who enjoys checking the blog during surgery at the St. John Medical Center in Tulsa, OK. That red blob on the little table there is the patient's old face! Just kidding, I don't know what that is. Anyway, thanks, Amber, for your support as well as for your allegiance to the field of plastic surgery!

This gave me an idea that might be fun... It might be cool for next semester if readers would submit pictures of themselves reading the blog! What do you think?

Anyway, we are having our last class of the semester right now! Wooo Hooo!!!

Also, our classroom got nice, new carpet! There is no smell I like more than new carpet smell. This is going to be a good day!

Yarnhair is suspiciously missing from class today. She probably had to go back to the Patch. Also, I wanted to alert you guys to something I found. It is a web series by the great Amy Poehler called Smart Girls at the Party. Here is the site:http://www.onnetworks.com/videos/smart-girls-at-the-party

The series is geared toward teen and preteen girls (and post-teens like me) and there is not one word spoken of Miley Cyrus or being a princess. It features real girls with cool talents and it promotes intelligence and being your own person, something that, in my opinion, today's society is sorely lacking. There is one episode about a 6 year-old feminist. That kid is awesome!!! Anyway, I just thought it was cool, and whoever knows a pre-teen, teen or post-teen that would be interested should check it out.

OK, so these guys in my apartment complex are driving me crazy, which leads me to believe that I have become an elderly lady. I suspect they are running a modern day speakeasy in their rented garage downstairs. Clue #1 that I'm an elderly lady is that I just used the term speakeasy. So be it. I think there is poker and booze and cheap cigars. I always find clues by the morning trash heap I encounter on my way to work each morning. I found a box for a card table and chairs, several empty playing card boxes and each night, several empty cases of beer.

I usually wouldn't care that such activities are going on, but most week nights when I get home from a hard day's work, I have to smell billows of cigar and stale cigarette smoke. Last night the smell made it to my apartment! Also, the other night two of the guys got in a fight and were yelling at each other at the top of their lungs at around 3:00 in the morning! And Grandma needs her sleep!

Also, the other night I got home and pointed my clicker thing at the entry gate kiosk only to find a disembodied manikin head staring right back at me. Terrified does not begin to describe my reaction. I think the speakeasy boys had something to do with that head. If there are going to be manikin heads lurking about, I don't think I can live here anymore! There really creep me out!

OK, I guess that's all for now, Grandma needs her sleep...ZZZZZ

Yarn Hair

Hello, again. So still in class. Not paying attention...

So there is this girl sitting in front of me who has like 4 long, strangely robust, curly hairs on the back of her shirt. If they decide to fall off, they will fall on my desk. This is wigging me out so bad (pardon the pun)! If one falls on my person or on my desk, I WILL vomit immediately!

Anyway, I forgot what I was even going to write about today. I can't even zone out like I usually do, I am so worried about this girl's Cabbage Patch yarn-hair falling on my desk!

Ooh, break time! Yeah! Back in a second...

OK, during the break someone moved my desk closer to Maribelle Banjo's (or your favorite Cabbage Patch kid's name) desk! Maribelle's yarn-hair is dangling closer than ever to my desk! BLERG!!!

I just tried to exhale forcefully so the hair would fall and I could somehow dodge it! It won't fall! I'm going to be sick! I bet if it falls, it will make a noise like a chopstick falling to the ground or one of those big ropes that sailors use...

Anyway, next week in the drug addiction class, I am doing a presentation about crack (the drug, not the fashion statement). To Narc's chagrin, I am bringing a real crack pipe to show the class. I'm getting it from my cousin who knows somebody who knows somebody, who teaches CPS workers about drugs. I bet you thought I was going somewhere else with that one. So, I'm bringing a crack pipe to class next week. I hope there is some kind of sticker or something on it that says PROPERTY OF TDFPS because if I get caught with a crack pipe, I am toast! The cops probably hear the 'I'm using it for a school assignment' excuse all the time. I will let you know. I may have to change the name of this blog to Blogging During Lockdown. We will have to see.

Anyway, that's all for now. The hair has still not fallen, so I need to concentrate on staying away from it in case it does. Byyyeeee!

Tex in the City

So, it has been a long time. In reality, I just finished a post, so for you it has not been a long time, because you probably haven't read the post I just did below. Anyway. What's up? How are you?!

How am I, you ask, well, I'm great. I had the day off of work today to celebrate my half birthday, and also because of Veteran's Day or something. But, luckily, I had school right, smack in the middle of my day off. Awesome!

A lot has happened since my last post (as I wrote this, I had forgotten that I wrote another post, so just play along.) Anyway, I went to New York, and I fell IN LOVE!!! His name is Manhattan and in a few years we are moving in together! Here are a few cool, quick and funny things that happened in New York (and this is an actual list that I comprised of things I wanted to do and that I actually did)

1. See a pick up game (or a rap battle)

2. Don't go to the Statue of Liberty

3. See a famous person

4. Don't be horrified by a homeless dude, and/or panhandler, carpetbagger or hustler

5. Make fun of people from LA with a group of New Yorkers

6. Pose as a New Yorker

7. Develop an accent... a Sarah Palin accent...

8. Pretend to be the Real Long Island Lolita, Amy Fisher as played by Drew Barrymore in the made for TV movie, The Amy Fisher Story (1992) (I actually did a monologue from this during my first night in Long Island)

9. Get lost

10. Say 'Get lost!' to somebody

11. Survive after a subway ride

12. Pretend to be studying Anglo Saxon Literature at NYU

13. Find out what is on 56th and 5th

14. Buy a newspaper from a newsie

15. See the ocean!

16. Eat a cupcake from that place that Katie Holmes is always eating cupcakes from...

OK, as you can see, I was really busy. That wasn't even the whole list. Those are just the things I did! The one thing on the list that I regret not doing is #19 High five Tina Fey, then promptly beg for a job. I did see a girl that looked like Tina Fey the first night we were there, but I saved my high five for the real thing! Dang...

Anyway, I also did some fun things that were not on the list. I saw Michael Rapaport (pictured above). I couldn't remember his name until like an hour later, and neither of my friends saw him. I kept saying, 'you know that New York actor who always plays an Irish cop or a dumb, Irish dude.' So, I didn't get to say, 'Hey, Michael Rapaport, I loved you as Phoebe's Irish cop boyfriend on Friends!'

I also saw Lindsey Lohan. She was in a store, so I only got to see her behind glass, but in retrospect, that is probably the safest way to see Lindsey Lohan 'in the wild'.

Another highlight of the trip was when a nervous-looking businessman asked me for directions, and I actually kind of knew the answer! He was like, 'uhh, excuse me, can you tell me which way to 56th Street?' I casually pointed over my shoulder with my thumb and flatly said 'that way'. He thanked me. I wanted to say 'GET LAWST!' in my fake, but perfected New York accent derived from two days in total Long Island immersion.

Also, I found sailors! Even though, unfortunately it was not Fleet Week. I asked them if they ever store bananas or any other kind of fruit in their hats. They thought I was a little crazy, which I probably am...

Also, the first night in the city, I saw a rap battle, AND a break dance fight! I didn't participate in either, nor did I watch a lot of them because I heard that they are just there to keep the spectators distracted while tiny thieves pick your pockets.

Needless to say, I got on the plane and looked longingly out the window during the hour taxi to the runway. And I was so depressed to be leaving. I feel that I have found my place in the world, even though it is WAY too expensive for a social worker, and it is not within driving distance to my parents' house. I was depressed for like three weeks because I feel like I am missing EVERYTHING! I am going to work on moving there. Someday, somehow... Until later... If you ever get stuck between the moon and New York City....

Gaybraham Lincoln

Hey, there! I hope you all are well. I would like to start out by saying that I just overheard the annoying old lady sitting next to me say that Abe Lincoln was gay. Shocking! She would know, too, because she probably used to hang out with him at the Gettysburg Address Men's Review. That would also explain his love for flamboyant, over-the-top hats and his unfortunate love for the theater...

Anyway, the reason I am sounding so stereotypical is because I am attempting to mock the stereotypical temperature of our country right now. No, not really, I was just trying to make a bad random joke. And nothing is more random than saying Abraham Lincoln was homosexual.

And since I am writing this while sitting in a class called Socially Oppressed Groups, I would like to recant my previous charges against "The Feet". It turns out that she is very nice and kind of cool, albeit a little vapid. I guess that just shows that you shouldn't judge someone based exclusively upon the ghastly and horrific appearance of their feet.

Another update: I rocked the marijuana debate! Yippee!

Narc came off as a weird person with terrible grammar. She kept slamming her fists on the podium and repeated "AT WHAT COST? AT WHAT COST?"

I rebutted, "My opponent says 'At what cost?' But I say, think of the 7 billion dollar gain... Think not of the cost, but of the gain! OF THE GAIN! BLOOD ALONE MOVES THE WHEELS OF HISTORY! [pause] Have you ever asked yourselves in an hour of meditation how long have we been striving for greatness? Brothers and Sisters of Addiction 6349 6:00-8:50 section, I ask you once more rise and be worthy of this historical hour. No revolution is worth anything unless it can defend itself. Some people will tell you marijuana is a bad word. This is our duty to change their perception. I say, stoners and women of the world... unite. We must never acquiesce, for it is together... TOGETHER THAT WE PREVAIL. WE MUST NEVER CEDE CONTROL OF THE MOTHERLAND... FOR IT IS TOGETHER THAT WE PREVAIL!!!"

No, wait, that was somebody else. I didn't say that. I just smirked a little and moved on with my presentation. But I totally won!

OK, I guess that is all for now. I have to pay attention a little now... до свидания!

Class #3 Doobie Debate Debacle

O.K. I have a lot of say today, and I have just learned that we are going to spend the first part of class discussing one of our assignments. Shocker! We have had three classes and I have yet to learn anything about socially oppressed groups. I have, however, learned how to begin writing a research paper, how to visit a social service agency and write about said agency, something last week, that I totally zoned out of, and how to read the syllabus. Ahhh, the value of education.

Any who, I would like this post to focus the Great Marijuana Debate/Debacle from yesterday. So I somehow got doped (pardon the pun) into being in a group to debate the legalization of marijuana for my addiction behaviors class. One girl was TOTALLY against it (which is a perfectly normal response) (so I thought) and another girl wanted to be in the against group as well. So I was, through no fault of my own, forced into the pro-legalization group. I guess this blog proves that I can pretty much b.s. about anything, so I wasn't worried, until yesterday when the crazy "Against" girl attempted an intervention on me. She offered me a thick binder of little "marijuana quizzes" and facts much like a curriculum a teacher would present to her 4th grade students with questions like TRUE or FALSE, Marijuana is a drug. Crazy Anti-Marijuana girl, henceforth referred to as Narc, also notified me that she has a DVD I could watch. I looked at the binder in my hands aptly titled Marijuana and You, and I said to Narc in a somewhat annoyed but delicate way "you know I am only on the Pro-legalization side because someone has to debate you, not because I'm a stoner?" She laughed uncomfortably and gazed off into the beyond. It was at this point that I realized that A.) There is nothing going on upstairs with this one, B.) She's completely bonkers, or C.) All of the above. I also realized that I'm not going to be able to use the jokes I had planned for my debate, i.e. Pro-Legalization reason 1: My friends said it's cool., and general rebuttal of the anti-legalization groups reasons: "dude, quit harshin' on my mellow."

Even worse than the death of some solid jokes, I had to explain to Narc what a debate entails. This was after she informed me that she was planning on bringing a short video and some anti-marijuana posters to present during her turn in the debate. My brain wondered quietly what pro-legalization posters would look like, and all I came up with was a long haired man with a beard giving the thumbs up. I, again, explained the debate process and its traditional lack of posters and audio-visual equipment. The other, cooler, Against group girl also explained that they shouldn't use posters because the object of the assignment isn't so that I will look like a fool in front of the entire class (but what a crazy assignment that would be...). This made Narc begin to get pretty defensive, I think something like "I just want people to understand the dangers of marijuana use," was said. Then she gave me a look like "Yeah, I'm talking to you, hippie, stoner, sorry excuse for a social worker." At this point I had grown bored with this person, so I handed her my four Pro reasons (minus my joke points, of course) and asked for hers in return. She handed me the behemoth Marijuana and You, at which point I firmly informed her that I did not intend on reading it, and she needed to give me some bullet points. After about half an hour or so the only point I squeezed out of her was "well, it's just so bad for you." When she said this, the little devil on my shoulder rubbed her hands in an evil genius sort of way in anticipation of certain debate victory. We will have to see how it goes next week. I recently learned that my debate partner dropped the class so I will be going it alone. I think this weekend will be spent watching good lawyer and stoner movies so I will be prepared to mark a victory for pro-legalization advocates around the country, or so Narc can learn what a debate is.

Also, something funny from last night's class is my professor's use of the word "moobs" for man boobs. A term that sent me into a church-laugh downward spiral that made Narc look at me suspiciously. I bet she picked up Marijuana and You and checked off "Giggles" on the "Signs of a Marijuana User" handout with a pointed "Uh, huh," and a hard check with her ball point pen.

Whatever, I would rather be thought of as a stoner hippie than a square who doesn't know what a debate is.

Take it easy, brothers...

Class # 2: The Great Sombrero Commute

Have you ever seen something so strikingly out of the ordinary when you are by yourself that you still look over as if your friend or somebody is sitting next to you and you are like "what in the..."

Today I saw a man in an impossibly small hatchback car driving down the street while wearing an impossibly large sombrero. The sombrero was so large that it made all mirrors obsolete for the man. He would have had to take the impossibly large sombrero off and fold it somehow into his hatchback trunk before he would have ever even been close to looking in the rear view mirror.

I wondered first, now, why would a man be wearing such an impossibly large sombrero on such a cloudy day? Why was he wearing it in his vehicle? And what was also strange is that he seemed to be very frustrated with the hat. Almost as over-the-top frustrated as those fools in the infomercials who can't figure out how to open a jar or use a pair of scissors.

I followed behind him for a while, afraid to pass as he would have never seen me until I was safely in front of him. I thought that maybe he was some sort of pigmently challenged person who is allergic to the sun or some kind of mascot or something. Maybe he forgot to take off the impossibly large sombrero before he got in the car, then was unable to do so after he was already in. This would explain his frustration with his obstructed vision.

Don't get me wrong, I have worn bizarre outfits while driving, but I was always on the way to some kind of Halloween or theme party, except for the one time I wore the big afro wig from no real reason. The wig never obstructed my vision while driving, though.

People shouldn't wear such large hats while indoors. Arguably cars are indoors. It is a danger for a person to wear such a large hat while walking, much less driving. I think I will write my congressperson about passing some sort of Large Hat Obstruction of the Driver's Field of Vision legislation to keep these people off our roads.

Anyway, after about 10 minutes of following the impossibly large sombrero, I decided to risk passing so I could get a good look at the man underneath.

The man underneath turned out to be exactly the man you would imagine to be wearing an impossibly large sombrero. Picture him in your head before reading my description... Got it?... OK?

He was a middle aged Hispanic man whose skin was wrinkled and tanned by long days of working in the sun (should had been wearing that hat then...) He had a fu manchu and a long braided black ponytail. When I saw him, I have to admit I was a little disappointed. I would have like to had seen someone more random like a tiny old lady or perhaps a small, nerdy lady with Tina Fey glasses, or Tina Fey! I guess the hat itself was my dose of random for the day.

OK, I have written more on this blog than I have written for the entire class. I better get back to business... or I think I will make a grocery list. Stay classy...

Day 1- The Feet

So I am sitting here in class so bored I am seriously considering opening the window directly behind me and jumping out. Everybody in class is so bored too that nobody would even notice. It's not that high up. I think I could survive the jump.

The first (possibly only) topic I would like to discuss is the issue of grown up people being barefoot in public places, such as the movie theater, and in this instance, class. You know who you are!

There is a woman approximately four feet to my right who is completely bare foot. It is not like she is like a cool hippy or something who cannot be oppressed by something so meaningless as shoes. She is about 40-45, and she is sitting her with her bare feet propped up lazily on an empty desk.

First, it really sicks me out that there very well may have been bare, gross feet in a desk that I have sat or am currently sitting. UHHHH!!! I will never know the disgusting nature of my surroundings, and this is something that my slightly OCD brain has excepted, yet I cannot help but think of some sort of way to mark the desk The Feet are currently using so I can rest assured that I am not sitting in that particular desk next week, or at any point this semester. Perhaps a post-it note or something could be strategically placed. It needs to be something that I can look at while still being in a normal standing or sitting position, but not something everyone else knows it there. ( Although a large sign adhered to the back of the chair warning that bare feet have rested here would be beneficial to everyone, in my opinion). I will keep thinking of that conundrum through out class.

Second, these feet are definitely not normal human female feet. They are much like hairless hobbit feet. They are unnaturally tan, and this lady keeps stretching out the gigantic talons of toes as if they have been carrying something like a small mammal or fish for many, many miles. I am seriously unable to carry on with my school work because of these horrific hooves. This cannot be legal. I guess feet are better than sitting behind someone with giant unnaturally tan visible butt crack, but it is still gross and distracting.

OK, I think that's all on The Feet... for now...

I wonder if everyone else in class has "checked out" as I have. I am sure I'm not alone. I bet I am alone in the fact that I am using my shear boredom for good (not evil or indolence). I bet I am the only person who is blogging while everyone else half listens to a small British woman stumble over the issue of the Social Security Act of 1935.

I've tried the other ways of dealing with boredom: the brain shut down, the eyes open nap, the overused word or gesture of the professor count, the think of a funny background story of the person sitting next to me, and now the in-class blog. Oh, also I just invented a new boredom fighter: the randomly raising your hand when a question or survey is posed without knowing the answer, question or survey topic. Professor just asked who has... something... and I raised my hand. It's a small rush, it's a lower-risk Russian Roulette kind of game.

Class update: we have just burned an hour and a half discussing how to go about writing a paper. AND THIS IS GRADUATE SCHOOL!!!

Exciting news: The Feet has just stood and walked across the classroom to discuss something with Professor! I cannot believe this lady! It's not like she brought (not wore because I have no evidence of that yet), hiking books with thick confusing laces or some sort of therapeutic brace/shoes, she has flip flops. Flip Flops are literally the closest type of footwear to actually being barefoot.

How gross and lazy do you have to be to think, "I'm going to go speak with this esteemed professor, a doctor of social work, a published author, barefoot. Should I slip on my inappropriate footwear, nah, barefoot it is!" If she leaves the room without shoes on I am calling the authorities. This lady should NOT be wearing flip flops.

Oh, thank God! I have just received word that we will be watching a film for the remainder of the class. I can watch any movie and not be bored at this point. Although a movie will certainly add to The Feet's need to be The Feet. I don't want to know what is going to happen...