Friday, August 27, 2010

So I got my hair done....

I went and had my hair done husband said it looks beautiful. What else could he say, right?

Well... let me tell you what ELSE he could say. He COULD say, "'s umm...short."

In fact, he DID say that several years ago. It didn't go over well...shocking, I know. Yes, several years ago I went to get my hair done and then met him at the bowling alley. (we're that kind of classy) When I got there I walked up to his table and he looked at me and said.."'s umm..short."

REALLY? That's what you have to say to me? In front of all your buddies..THAT'S what you've got for me. Are you a freakin' idiot?

I give him "the look" and he says, "What? What did I say wrong? It IS short."

Hmm..I don't know, jackass...maybe you could have said I look nice? That you like it?

And THEN...and THEN.. I get, "So you want me to lie?" He's really lucky at this point I didn't knock his ass right off his chair or dump my drink on his head. He was only saved by the fact that, I'm pretty sure I couldn't knock him off his chair and there is NO WAY I'm wasting my drink. Anyway, I thought it best to let it drop at that point. I know his buddies thought so too.

Later, at home, we get into a conversation, that goes something like this...

Joel:  So, let me get this straight. I'm suppose to tell you your hair looks nice, even if I don't like it? You WANT me to lie to you?

 Duh...isn't that in your man handbook or something?  I get my haircut, you say, you love it. I ask if I look fat, you say, of course not. I mean what is so tough about that?

Jump ahead a few days...It's Friday night Joel's getting ready to go out to dinner. I'm waiting on him...and waiting on him..AND waiting... Finally, he comes downstairs....


I look at him and say what every other woman would say in this situation..."What the FUCK did you do?"

He get's this shit eating grin on his face and says, " SEE..SEE..YOU didn't say you liked it. YOU didn't say I look good."

SERIOUSLY? You somehow think THIS is the same thing as when I got my haircut? You have lost your fucking know that, right?

Yes, he believes that by him shaving his head he has somehow proven his point to me.

He doesn't see the difference in me going to get my haircut and him going to TAKE A SHOWER AND COMING OUT BALD?!

Whatevs...let's go to dinner.

Sitting at dinner I look over at him, he looks a little uncomfortable. Now I have a shit eating grin on MY face. YOU like your hair? (or lack thereof)

Joel: No!

Well, I like MINE. Guess you really showed me, huh?

So like I said, I went and got my hair done yesterday and my husband LOVES it...he said so.

Wednesday, August 25, 2010

Parlez-vous fran├žais?

No, I don't.

So imagine my surprise when I received my teaching assignment one year and it said I was teaching French. Not even Intro to French, but French II.

OBVIOUSLY, this was a mistake you are saying to yourself. And if you're not, you SHOULD be, because it would be ASININE to assign someone to teach a language they DON'T KNOW!

But that's exactly what happened.

According to the "powers that be", or as I lovingly referred to them, "the morons"....there was something about budget cuts, personnel reassignment...blah..blah...blah.  I really stopped listening, because I assumed that when I brought it to their attention that #1 I am not certified to teach French and #2 I don't KNOW the French language, that would be the end of such nonsense.

Ah..but alas, the nonsense continued...

I was told it would be an online class, therefore, I would really only be "supervising" the students. Hmmm...ok...well, what if they don't understand something or they have a QUESTION?  What shall I do with them then...Oh Johnny, stop with all this silliness of asking questions and expecting me to know the answer!  Now go sit back down at your computer and learn that there French would you.

Yes, I see this plan working out very well.

THEN, I'm told that...Oops.. the school has forgotten to actually sign up for this class so it may take a few days before they can actually begin the computer class... Lovely!

A few days, huh?  Let's try an ENTIRE quarter! Yes, for an entire quarter (of a semester long class) I had nothing for these students to do. I was told to "improvise"...SERIOUSLY, I swear I'm not making this up!

So for the first quarter I "improvised"...french food...french culture...anything I could come up with that had the word FRENCH in it.  My husband drew the line at french kissing though....bummer.

So, at the end of the class I have NO IDEA if those kids could speak a word of French, but boy did they have a keen understanding of french fries and french toast.

I'm hoping to teach Chinese in the near future..., I LOVE Chinese food...oh, and I have a great idea for a lesson in translating all those cool Chinese tattoos. (fingers crossed!)

Thursday, August 19, 2010

Dating Hell

What's the absolute BEST thing about being married?

That I will NEVER have to DATE again!

Over my lifetime I have had many different types of dates. Way back in high school I had "the first date"..I remember how nervous and crazy I was that night. I had it all planned out...I would wait in the front room and when he knocked on the BACK door (yes, boys actually came to the door back then) I would have my mom answer it. As I see him pull in the drive I yell to my mom that he's here and then stand nervously in the front room. So what happens?  He comes to the FRONT door!  NOBODY ever went to the front, but he did. He looked at me, I looked at him and then I did what any sensible person would do.  I ran to the back of the house and told my mom he was at the front door! (Smmmmoooootttthhhh) I should have known then that this whole dating thing was going to be a pain in the ass.

Fast Forward many years later....and I come upon my worst date EVER! OK...actually it is the worse TWO dates ever because, apparently, I'm not smart enough to learn my lesson the first time.

I'm not sure the first night even qualifies as "a date" but it doesn't really was AWFUL.

A friend and I go out to a local restaurant to begin an evening, of what is sure to be, a good time.  We are standing in the bar area when a couple of nice looking guys catch our eye. Or maybe they caught our eye because they were wearing 10 gallon cowboy hats in a very NON-cowboy hat wearing establishment. (red flag #1)

The cowboys send over drinks and then come introduce themselves. They seem rather nice and gentlemeny (I know that's not a word) so we begin chatting. The one that introduces himself to me is named Stephen. That's STEFF-EN...he seems very adamant about making that clear to me. (red flag #2)

We continue making small talk. They ask what we are up to.  We say, just a girls night out, grabbing some dinner then meeting some friends uptown at the local watering hole. No big deal.

They continue to buy drinks....many drinks. We pass on a couple rounds, but those boys are throwin' back pretty hard. (red flag#3) When their table is called they invite us to join them.

As we are sitting down at the table...STEFF-EN sits at the very end and begins to rock back on the chair. I tell him he should be careful but he just looks at me like I'm an idiot.

Well, you know what happens next, right. Yep, he flips over backwards! Not ONLY does he go crashing to the ground, but he kicks the guy, at the table behind us, in the HEAD!(red flag#4) Everyone is staring at his stupid ass and I want to die because there are tables of people that I know in the restaurant. At that moment, I wanted to stand up and let everyone know that I was NOT with this idiot and that I did warn him what would happen if he kept rocking back on that damn chair!

Instead, my friend and I excused ourselves to the bathroom and then got the hell out of there as fast as we could! Whew...disaster adverted!

Well...not quite.

Remember earlier when I said we made small talk about what we were doing that night? Dumb move!

As we are bellied up to the bar telling our friends about these idiots, who do you think walks thru the door? I really don't have to tell you, right.

So the cowboys mosey on up to the bar and get a drink. We are trying desperately to ignore them at this point, but really, what are the odds of that happening.

The next thing I know, the head guy in the band is announcing he has a special request. Cowboy STEFF-EN wants to sing a song to someone! Oh please God, please do NOT let this fool sing a song to me. Please..Please...Please!

Well, God must have had more important things on his plate because I'll be damned if ole' STEFF-EN doesn't announce he is dedicating this song to "Tonya". (that's me) (red flag#5)

He proceeds to DESTROY Garth Brooks' song, "The Dance". I mean, he would have been one of those American Idol rejects that I am embarrassed for at the beginning of each season. It was BAD!! And my friends LOVED every second of it. (Bitches!)

I leave before the song ends and head for home. Seriously, I could not take ANY more!

You would think this would be the end of my story. I mean what kind of idiot would give this guy another chance, right? Well, I don't know if I'm just a glutton for punishment or what, but I AM that kind of idiot.

He calls, apologizes profusely and asks me if I'd like to just get together for something casual. He knew I was a basketball player so he suggests we go to the gym and play a little horse or one-on-one. (which, by the way, I would have TOTALLY kicked his ass at had we ever gotten that far!)

 I agree, and go to his house to pick him up. While waiting for him to get ready there is a knock at the door. (Hmmm...wonder who this could be)

WELL...he starts to open the door and some chick busts in screaming! I couldn't really make out the words because her head was spinning around and pea soup was spewing from her mouth. (not really, but she WAS pissed off)  Then she looks at me and says, "Well, you can HAVE him sweetie" (which, at this point by the way, I am SURE I don't want) (red flag #... Oh who the hell knows, there were too many to count!)

After she leaves, he actually picks up his jacket and thinks we are STILL going to the gym!

Now, I realize that up until this point in the story (the very LONG story) I have, for some reason, believed there was a chance this guy was sane.

Clearly, I was wrong!

And just to prove to you that I AM sane...there was never a date #3.

Tuesday, August 17, 2010

1st Graders Suck Ass!


Hello? Oh umm...substitute for 1st grade tomorrow? Well, I'm actually only certified 7-12...Oh, it doesn't matter for substituting? Well then, yeah, I guess I can do that.  I mean how tough can 1st graders be? See you in the morning..Thank you!

THANK YOU???  Have I lost my fucking mind?  There was a reason I didn't get certified for elementary. That reason was I'm petrified of little kids and quite honestly, I don't really like them much until they hit puberty. I'm not a big fan of little people, so sue me. (For clarification, I'm referring to children here NOT "little people". I LOVE "little people" fact, "The Little Couple" is one of my favorite shows)

On my way to my assignment I try to give myself a pep talk.  Ok Tonya, now you can do this. It's your very first subbing assignment so DON'T fuck it up. Just don't let them see you sweat. Everything will be JUST fine.

8:15 am - Arrive at school. Check in at the office.

8:20 am - Enter classroom. Ooohh.. so many bright colors, looks like such a happy place. (who knew such evil lurked under that cheerful facade)

8:30 am - Go over teachers' lesson plan for the day. (Damn, she has high expectations. I was hoping for a lot of nap time and recess...shit)

8:45 am - Children begin to arrive. I'm greeted with..."You're not Miss So and So"

Really? No shit kid, boy, I bet you're gonna be valedictorian some day.

9:00 am - Attendance taken...lunch money collected...I'm on my way!

9:05 am - "That's not how Miss So and So does it. Billy's touching me. We never do it THAT way. Billy's touching me. I don't like how YOU do it. Billy's touching ME! I want Miss So and So back. BILLY'S TOUCHING ME!"

Really? WTF? Billy...stop touching people for God's sake! You want Miss So and So back, huh...well, I want a beer right about now. First lesson learned don't always get what you want!

9:15 am - Trying to get everyone onto the carpet...Kids running all over the place..I YELL...they CRY...I am NOT doing well.  . One little girl tugs on my skirt and yes, pulls it down.  I'm guessing mooning 1st graders is probably against some kind of rule.

9:20 am - Finally get most of the kids sat down and THEN....a fight breaks out! A chubby little boy and a twiggy little girl are goin' at it! Rest of the kids start to scream...I jump in and pull them apart. Now what? I haul them down to the office (ummm...yeah, I left the classroom...another No No!)

9:25 am - Return to classroom. (Note to self: DO NOT leave a classroom full of 1st graders unattended..not even for a second!) Kids once again running all over the place.

9:30 am - Guess who's back...yep, Joe Frasier and Muhammad Ali. The principal walks them back to class!  WHAT? I don't want them back...I GAVE them to YOU...YOU are suppose to KEEP them!

I have decided at this point that I am going to get my tubes tied.

The rest of the day doesn't get any better. My little fighters go to opposite corners. One sits on the ledge staring out the window. The other one crawls under a desk and refuses to come out. (Which, by the way, I am FINE with)

Lunchtime rolls around...time to get in line and go to the cafeteria...easy enough.

Think Kindergarten Cop ...the fire drill scene...all classes walking in a single file line, quietly and politely. MY class running around like wild animals.  I have now conceded that I have lost ALL control. Oh, who am I kidding...I NEVER HAD control!

Those kids OWNED me.  They smelled FEAR and they pounced!

The end of the day finally arrives..the kids are gone...I am sitting at the desk...numb. I can't move. The principal sticks his head in the door. He looks at me and smiles.

I'm not sure the kids learned anything valuable that day, but I sure did.

1st Graders SUCK ASS!

Monday, August 16, 2010

Yes, I'm a Chocolate Whore...

Hello, my name is Tonya and I'm a Chocoholic.

What does it take to be a chocoholic you ask? It takes commitment. It takes dedication. Most of all, it takes a complete disregard for moderation and social acceptance.

I'm not talking about liking chocolate here. I'm not talking about eating socially acceptable amounts of chocolate on a regular basis. I am talking about obscene amounts of chocolate. The kind of gluttony that would make the average person shudder (and probably puke). THAT'S the kind of chocoholic I am baby!

A BOX of ho hos and a half gallon of chocolate milk. In ONE sitting!

A CAN of chocolate frosting. Not for putting ON a cake, but for eating with a spoon!

A hot fudge sunday with EXTRA...EXTRA...EXTRA  Hot Fudge. The ice cream is really just an accessory...I'd be perfectly happy with just a big bowl of hot fudge!

A Stir n Frost Cake (Betty Crocker, you Bitch...bring these back!) Oh, did I mention I wouldn't actually bake the cake. Oh no, I would make the batter in the cute little pan that was included, grab a spoon and eat it raw.  Then rinse it down with the packet of frosting.

 Oh, and DO NOT...I repeat... DO NOT screw up my chocolate with crap like nuts or fruit or any other stupid flavors! The ONLY thing that goes well with chocolate is more chocolate!

O.K. I'm starting to shake..the D.T.s are setting in...I MUST go get chocolate...NOW.  I think there's a bottle of chocolate syrup in the fridge.

Hey...Don't Judge Me!

Wednesday, August 11, 2010

A HARD Lesson to Learn...

Sometimes during the day I have these random thoughts that pop into my head. Well O.K....MOST days I have random thoughts, but on this particular day I was remembering a day from my college Water Safety course. It wasn't that bad of a class really, I learned a lot about what to do in water emergencies which was pretty cool. However, one day definitely stood out more than any other.

We were talking about how to stabilize someone on a back board. Our professor had us all in the shallow end and was demonstrating the procedure to us. He called for a volunteer, and this one guy that we called Kramer (man did he have some crazy ass hair) jumped at the chance.  So Kramer became our "victim" and it was our job to get him on the board safely and stabilize his head. Exactly like that picture up there. Simple...right?

Well...things don't always go exactly as planned.  We were able to position Kramer on the board and turned him over so as not to drown the poor bastard...Yay, bonus points for us!! We got his head stabilized...and the straps tightened so he couldn't move....COULD NOT MOVE...this will be very important later in the story!

Once we had him safely secured, the instructor had us all surround Kramer as he discussed our efforts. I happened to be standing directly at his waist. Things seemed to be going well and then IT happened (do you  know what I'm about to say). As poor Kramer is strapped down to this board and CANNOT MOVE he gets an ERECTION!  His suit is sucking to him like it was vacuum sealed and there he is in all his glory with a big ole' boner! It was like a bad want to look away, but you just can't.  What is our professor doing this whole time you ask? Yep...he is just going on and on about the exercise and has NO CLUE what is going on.

Now I don't know about you, but I have NO IDEA what the proper protocol is for a situation like this. Since I'm standing right at his waist should I reach over and try to release his suit so it's not quite so obvious? Should I fake a heart attack so I can distract everyone from the elephant in the room (no pun intended)? Well, whatever the PROPER thing to do is, I am POSITIVE what I DID do was NOT it! Instead, I stood there and giggled like I was 12.  It was one of those situations where laughing was so inappropriate and the more I tried NOT to laugh the harder it was to control.

THANKFULLY....Kramer must have started to think about his grandmother or something because after what seemed like an eternity (and I'm sure it seemed longer for Kramer than any of us) his "predicament" subsided.

The lesson I walked away with that day was significant.....NEVER volunteer to be the victim.  I know Kramer learned that lesson the HARD way!

Wednesday, August 4, 2010

Follow the Recipe...Damn It!

See this recipe card? If my husband was going to make this dish do you know what he would do with this card? He would toss it aside and just do whatever the hell he wanted to!? WTF is that all about, huh? Isn't the recipe card like a map that you follow to get you to your destination safe and sound? OH... Yes that's IS like a map so, of course, my husband wouldn't use it! Nope, he would just throw caution to the wind and start throwing things around the kitchen all Willy Nilly.  Never mind that his dishes end up delicious and all, but that's BESIDE the point!

 So what IS the point you ask...the point is that I follow the recipe. I do what I'm suppose to and at best my dishes turn out o.k.! To be honest, it pisses me off! I mean if the recipe says to cook something for 15 minutes isn't that what you should do? Shouldn't the damn thing be done in 15 minutes if that's what it said? What's the frickin' point of following the directions if you take it out in 15 min. and it's burnt to a crisp? Or what if it needs to cook longer?  Just how MUCH longer should I let it cook so as not to poison my family. Yes, this is what I think will happen if I don't follow the directions, EXACTLY. Somehow, I will poison my family and kill them, all because I didn't follow the directions! This may seem unreasonable, but I happen to love my family and I'm not taking any chances damn it! So when I serve them undercooked pasta or overcooked chicken just's because I LOVE them!