Twelve more days of school, most of them ceremonial. As glad as I am about that, I'm pretty sure a depression is coming.

Hot dog Fridays are now steak taco Fridays.

Monica had some seven tag thingie on her blog. I'm taking up her challenge. What follows is seven random songs from my iPod shuffle.

1. Everything But The Girl - Single (Drum N Bass Remix)

Love them, love this, love the album. That Tracy Thorn sure has a voice, and Ben Watt gave her the musical backdrop she needed to make it happen. It what? It who? Her solo album was a bit (a lot) disappointing, but there's always the Walking Wounded album.

2. Bill Withers - I Want to Spend the Night

I love Bill Withers. His "Best Of ... " liner notes reveal that he's the best person ever, and he makes (made) good songs.

3. Foreigner - I Want to Know What Love Is

Okay, this is a little embarrassing but fuck it. IT WAS THE EIGHTIES!!!

4. MC Hammer - You Can't Touch This

Fine, I have some seriously questionable taste sometimes. I assure you that my entire iPod is not filled with fluff and culturally-acceptable dance tunes. I will say that Hammer and friends made some cuts though. Last Sunday, Monica, Schmoses and I
were barrelling down 290 doing dances to Oaktown 357's "Juicy Got Em Crazy." Good times.

5. Toni Terry - Head Over Heels

Oh, the days of yore. Crushes on stupid boys who would grow to be date rapists and fat assholes. Cutting class. Hanging out with friends. This particular tune, from seventh grade, reminds me of the typing class I barely passed. My teacher was Mr. Leibensorger (named spelled so wrong). I can't remember who exactly I was crushing on, but he was probably a nimrod.

6. ZZ Hill - A Message to the Ladies

I love the blues, particularly the early to late-80's, R&B hybrid variety. ZZ Hill was a master of this style. In this song he's letting the ladies know that keeping their men is a "full-time job." Things included in doing a good job? Keeping the hair and nails done, not becoming fat, and serving "it" on the regular. As he says "Coca Cola made it, but they still advertise." Take heed, ladies.

7. AZ f/ Nas - Mo Money, Mo Murda, Mo Homicide

Actually, I say less murda and homicide, but I'll take a luscious helping of this wonderful little ditty (and money). I do love AZ and Nas together and would not be opposed to a full scale collaboration between the two. So yeah, this entire album was it for me. I remember buying it from Coconuts (or was it Sam Goody) in Ford City, and being so anxious to get home to hear it. I haven't liked AZ as much since then, but it's nice to remember the old times.


That's it. I'm off to crash a co-worker's barbecue.

It's Summer! (Sorta)

Hence, the new color palette.

Mosey on over to my other blog. It's about knitting. Sounds fantastic, doesn't it?

Not So Much Creepy As ... Different

This is clearly my theme for the week. I thought I was done, but I couldn't let this one juicy nugget go unnoticed and unblogged about.

One of my sixth period students remarked on my appearance today:

Student: Ms. Weirdo*, you look different today. I've never seen you dress like that.

Me: What do you mean?

Student: You look so normal today. Well, I don't mean ... not to say that you never .... You just dress ... different.

Me: Oh.

Hilarious. And here I was thinking I had toned it down for teaching. Apparently, I still dress like a freak. Through the slacks and teacher sweaters, I still exude a certain je ne sais quoi.

*Not my name, though it should be

Well, at least I'm not as bad as Kool Keith

Creepy Update

Remember this post. Yeah, well I was leaving my classroom the other day and got a nice reminder of my creep factor. My department, the English department, was down the hall commiserating and generally debriefing after a day of dealing with unruly students. (Everyone--all the teachers, administrators, support staff, and students-- is so done with this school year. Let it end already.) So, I walk out of my classroom and I look down the hall, as I am prone to do whenever I exit a room. They all looked up and got silent.

My creepiness strikes again, my pretties.

Also, I've realized that I attract the "strange" kids. Each teacher attracts a core group of youngsters who gravitate toward them for some reason or other. Well, for the past couple of weeks, my classroom has been hosting the "strange" kids, the ones who read manga, learn Japanese, write poems about vampires, darkness or any other morbid topic, and wear all black. I love it. One kid is filming the prelude to The Evil Dead with his friends. Awesome! We all know The Evil Dead is like my favorite movie! Long live weirdos, man. It's so good to know that there's a new crop of awesomely weird awesomes just waiting to take over when my friends and I are done.

That's It, That's All

No more classes
No more books
No more teachers' dirty looks

That's right, dear reader (otherwise known as Monica); I'm done with school. I stayed up late last night typing/writing (yes, at once; i'm quite the procrastinator) my last paper. It's over and done. I am officially done with school. I may never go back. No more degrees.

Graduation is Friday, but of course I won't be attending. I'll be torturing other students who are all too ready for summer break.

If you stumble across my page, PayPal some money to me. Negroes are super broke.

I'm feeling good people. Can you feel it?

I was intentionally in Hyde Park yesterday. I try like hell to not be in Hyde Park, intentionally or unintentionally. True, I do have to drop my Aunt Rebekah off after our monthly shopping trips to River Oaks, but those are usually quick in and out jobs. Get in, get out.

The other day, though, the day that I finally came to terms with being creepy, I went with some co-workers to the Pancake House on 51st, the one across from Kenwood. Dude! I didn't realize that my job was so close to the Park. So, yesterday, to commemorate my last day of class (I'm graduating, bitches!), I went to The Snail, formerly my favorite Thai restaurant, to celebrate. Unlike those drives with Aunt Rebekah from the Manor, I was forced to take locals. My god, the emotion. Turning off Lake Park onto 55th, I noticed that University National Bank is no longer on the corner. I had my first banking account there. No problem, I'm a fricking rock, so I took note and kept driving. While passing the viaduct that leads to that strip of Thai restaurants on the south side of 55th, I noticed that the Kikuya is still there. I smiled and remembered the time my little brother came to visit me at my dorm and I had taken him to get sushi and then had taken the rest of the money daddy had given me to spend on him to Dr. Wax (when it was still in that basement) to buy vinyl. My how the young lad had mastered chopsticks in no time. I pulled up right in front of The Snail and walked inside, placed my order, and sat as they prepared my Pad Siew (and Pad Thai and chicken eggrolls, but this is not about my tendency to find comfort in food). The dining room was empty and looked pretty much the same it had the last time I had been there. I thought about the time I went on a date with some dude from my school and didn't eat cuz I had just eaten at BJ, so he ordered noodles and I just sat there and watched him eat. (I have this strange fascination with watching dudes eat; I'm weird.) I also remembered that time Flomas* and I had eaten that place dry as we ordered everything on the menu, yukked it up, and acted fools. I looked out the window, remembering what an unhappy, undriven excuse for an undergrad I had been, and how I'd been a constant fixture on that stretch of 55th, often walking from campus to my room at the Shoreland, hating every minute of it. I thought about my life now--unfortunately grown, with responsibilities, a fricking high school teacher for god sakes--and wished like hell I could get that four years of bullshit responsibility and free time for drinking and drugs back. Mickyfrickies just don't know how good they have it.

I guess that's why I hate Hyde Park; there are way too many memories there. My mom and I lived above the Morry's when I was born. I went to grammar school there and still remember the first book I bought from the 57th street book store. I labored through undergrad there and met too many people who I kinda miss and have subsequently lost there. Boo hoo and shit. I fricking hate that place, but I will be back for some Nicky's.

* Clearly not a real name.

Let me leave you with a song


A friend and I, one who I'd met in the good ole Park, were in my dorm room one night watching a VHS of old videos I'd taped, and this one came on. We automatically dropped everything and rhymed this entire song word for word, bobbing our heads in unison, until it went off. he was dead a few weeks later. good times i tell ya.