I found it!!!! I found the missing puzzle piece. It fell out of a blanket, which I thought it might!!! I have the missing link...

Conumer Product Warnings

It has been a lovely 3 day holiday for me. I am thankful sometimes that Oklahomans are scared of the snow and ice because if I were in Kansas, I would have been teaching today. But I held strong, and I had faith that I wouldn't be teaching today. So, as genderist's post has already proclaimed, we put together a puzzle last night. I had the last of it to put together myself, and I was bound and determined to put it together this morning. I decided when I finished it, that it might be something fun to glue and hang in the bathroom, as the whole house seems to be lacking in artwork right now. So I set off this morning to finish the puzzle. I must say that working alone is alot harder than I had imagined, especially since last night, Genderist was kind enough to seperate colors and hand them to me to piece together. This morning, I felt like I might as well be trying to cogugate verbs, because it took me four hours to do less than half of the rest of the puzzle. There's something substantially less satisfying when you are only high-fiving the dog when you find a really important puzzle piece. But patience persisted, and needless to say, I finished the puzzle. It looks great! But...just like any classic puzzler's worst nightmare, there's a piece missing. Right above those two yellow pillows. A piece of blue. I was even motivated to clean the entire house, which I did, but still to no avail, the piece is still missing. It is gone. It was worse than the Simpson's episode where the Simpson's decide to put together a puzzle and they miss the James Taylor or Paul McCartney piece...I'm just saying, be careful when you put together your next puzzle and know that those damn pieces end up everywhere.

So, after the puzzle drama, I decided that I would listen to the dog's request, and continue watching the 1st season of 24. Until today, I have only seen the 1st three episodes. It has been good, but not a necessity for me to watch, not like Lost. So I watched the 4th episode, I was starting to get hooked and by the time I made it to the 2nd dvd, I was completely sucked into the hell that is 24. Watch out. It is true, you can't watch just one episode and I'm really addicted. I am thankful that I have the dvd's right now, and that I don't have to waste my time on commercials, I don't know if my blood pressure could stand the 5 minutes in between moments of drama. I am interested in who else has seen this show, because I am pumped up about the show and I am looking for someone to talk to about it! Even as I sit here now, I am trying to decide whether or not to skip wrestling tonight in favor of more 24. I have to know how this day ends, but I know that the moment I put the next dvd in that I will be forced to watch the next disc and then I'll never get any school work done. Ah, well. I've been lazy before...

Summary of the Debate Tournament Experience

I thought that just like any sport, I would highlight some of the experiences that go into my weekend. So here's my "best of" clips from the debate tournament:

Here's the highlights:
I was hit from behind in the school van.

My arch enemy was in fine form.

My future employer took to ignoring me.

It went from 40 degrees to 20 degrees in 4 hours and it started sleeting on Friday.

By Friday night, there was an inch of ice on the windshield. We had no gloves, no ice scrapers, and no heat in the van.

We borrowed scrapers, but it was still sleeting and the van was still cold, so the windshield kept sleeting over.

Only 4 of the 20-some debaters returned the next day because of the weather.

We got 5 regional qualifiers.

I watched some really bad rounds.

Favorite Quote of the Weekend:

"Well, you need to go find them...Because, right now we don't have people to monitor the halls!"

Novice blunders:
You know how it's funny to watch a baby fall on its ass a few times when it attempts to walk? Yeah, basically the same deal here...

Mispronounced Words:
Consolidates
Rhetoric
Exploitation
Concept
Recognition
Premised
Enable
hierarchical
Alternative
Evil
Inevitable
Ideology

"New Words":
Majoriliy
Communistic

And my favorite Novice quote of the weekend:
When answering the question, "Will Dick Cheney be prosecuted for the hunting accident shooting?"

"My second area of analysis is that Cheney is an important aide to the White House...I even have an article that proves this. It says that President Bush really likes Vice President Cheney..."

Anger + Beer =

I have been a little frustrated. To tell the truth, I have started to discover that I am only motivated to post when I am in a bad mood or grumpy. If I am busy, or things are going well, I don't know what to say.

The truth is, this week has been pretty good. I am really happy right now in my marriage, work has been annoying, but tolerable, even my weekends have been better because I know that the competition season is about to end, and I won't be as tired anymore.

This morning I was in the mood to bitch about Eddie Sutton fans and then this afternoon I was in the mood to blog about the crazy lady who is the poster girl for the word objectification.

My day got really bad about 45 minutes before I was going to go home and I was going to blog about how much I want to take her face and grind it up against a brick wall, but then beer happened. It was great. I only had one glass, but it was enough to stop me from losing control and getting really angry.

I find myself trigger happy with my anger lately, it's almost like I am looking for a reason to be angry or to say/think something really cynical, and the truth is that I have just been happy and content. Despite this demented search, I haven't been able to muster up any anger.

It's a sad state of affairs, for me, when 1 beer can allay my temper. The truth is that I just haven't been in the mood to be pissy. I have even been kind of annoyed with the computer, because I haven't wanted to sit down long enough to find a reason to be angry. (Look, I didn't start this blog to get mad, it's just that for some reason being pissed off here was a good relief, so I kept doing it...)

I just thought I would tell all of you that while this evening I have more than a few good reasons to be pissed off, that I think instead I will snuggle with the man of my dreams and go watch some wrestling.

And, by the way, don't you even try to pin this on the fact that we just started celebrating Valentine's Day, because that has nothing to do with it...

Starbucks Twice A Day

I enjoy the aroma of Starbucks in the morning when I wake up.

We delight in the taste of the Breakfast Blend.

I like to mix my mug with Vanilla Nut Coffemate creamer.

At about 9:00a.m. I get Starbucks again.

When I pee.

And I again fancy the aroma of Starbucks.

I am proud to find a comfortable place to boast about the rich and bold aroma that is my urine.

Thank God for Coffee.

My Favorite Bush Picture

I'm not usually the one to post things of a political nature on my blog, but this was hilarious and I just couldn't resist. Write your own trailer summary if you choose...

Well, Here I am in a new dress

I think the 8 hours that I spent changing my website to this was worth it. It was better than spending all of my money on a huge shopping spree, and yet I feel like I ended the day with a ton of new stuff. Let me know what you think about the new site, and enjoy!

By the way, my Counterpart, who has now started referring to himself as The Count (for coolness sake, I suppose) has finally given in and joined our little blog world. I posted the link wrong and I will fix it soon, but until then, you can check him out here!

Chuck Norris

I forgot to mention how angry I am at the whole wide world and the world wide web right now. Apparently, I have been locked out of pop culture. My counterpart noticed someone who had these silly Chuck Norris sayings all over his debate evidence. 2 or 3 times later on, we heard more buzzings of Chuck Norris. Apparently, for the first time ever, not being a late night fan has somehow bit me in the ass. We have now discovered the new culture of Chuck Norris. If you are in the dark, did you know that:

Rather than being birthed like a normal child, Chuck Norris instead decided to punch his way out of his mother's womb. Shortly thereafter he grew a beard.

Chuck Norris sold his soul to the devil for his rugged good looks and unparalleled martial arts ability. Shortly after the transaction was finalized, Chuck roundhouse kicked the devil in the face and took his soul back. The devil, who appreciates irony, couldn't stay mad and admitted he should have seen it coming. They now play poker every second Wednesday of the month.

Chuck Norris does not sleep. He waits.

There are no disabled people. Only people who have met Chuck Norris.

Chuck Norris does not have AIDS but he gives it to people anyway.

If you have somehow missed this strange cultural phenomenon, as I myself have, go ahead and indulge yourself in more Chuck Norris Jokes. I won't tell anyone that you were in the dark, too.

It's Time

I've been trying to make a decision. I've had an offer for a new job. I don't really know what to think. First of all, it's not 100% but the deal got sweetened today. I had made a request of the person who wanted me to come to sign me on to a summer institute. I found out today that he did recommend me for that institute and I have been accepted. It is an honor to hear that, but I am still a little nervous. I have spent alot of time reflecting about what I want to do and ideologically, the new place would be the place for me, but I haven't ever made a move to a new place.

When I was in high school and college, I always maintained one job at a pool for the YMCA. I tried out different summer jobs, but I always stayed at the Y as well. I never left. And things got bad. I cried the first two months at my teaching job because I wanted to go back to the pool that I worked at. When things got bad at the Y, I just held on to the belief that I would someday graduate college and find a school to teach at.

And here I am, at a school, and I think anyone who has read half of a post knows that it's not my dream job. But I don't know whether to go or stay. I've been through some really bad stuff and stayed the course through the change. The question is whether there is hope that things will get better here...You would think the answer was an easy one: go, right? I don't know. It's not just about me. I love my kids and the past few weeks I have taken a look at my surroundings trying to come up with the right answer. I know how bad things can get here-side story-today 3 of the 6 teachers I was eating lunch with were complaining about how "black people's" names are unnecessarily complicated. Why can't they just get names that are spelled or pronounced the grammatically correct way? I couldn't help but think, 'what you really mean is the "white way."- considering how many sleepless nights and unnerving vacations that I have been through, I know that this job is not the best one. The problem is that the prospect of the unknown job is terrifying. I know what I have built here and I know how good my classroom is. Let's face it. I can leave this job because I despise who I work with, but a new place could have worse problems. From a happiness perspective, I have to decide what my threshold for crappines is, as far as how bad is too bad, for a job.

Then there's the kid perspective. I am losing some seniors that are really important to me, but there's also a ton of kids in my debate classes that will return next year that I am not sure I can leave. The thought of someone else coaching them makes me sick. Unfortunately, those kids won't be there for forever either, and this opportunity only presents itself every so often.

The new job is an opportunity for me to work in the same district as I graduated high school in, which makes me proud to essentially go back and coach at my alum. It's also a chance for me to work on the type of debate that I really want to. There's some other perks about the job that make it lucrative.

In the end, I can't figure out which is more important to me: my happiness or my kids' happiness. I don't want to upset them, and I am scared to go to a new place, but I don't know how long you all will keep reading this blog if I bitch too much more about where I am at. I want to go, but I am scared of leaving and it going from bad about 1/2 of the time to being all out hell at a new place. I don't know... Your thoughts are truly appreciated with all of this.

Honeymoon

Sorry, I am messing around with stuff, please ignore!

The Turkey Trophy

For three weeks now, I have spent the entirety of my weekend at debate tournaments. The few weekdays between Monday and Thursday have been spent opening new purchase orders, more e-mails for entries for the contests, last minute drops from the tournament, an ever-constant battle of who is going to drive whom. I've had kids call me stupid, brilliant, witty, insane, and one even graced me with the pleasure of calling me fat.

When the fat jokes started yesterday, I knew all of us were too tired to even tell the difference between funny and unfunny. (The purpose of this exercise was to see who they could call fat before someone got a complex about it. And guess what? After two days of competition and an inordinate amount of losses for our team, someone did finally take it personal.) Then the kids moved from punch-drunk unhappiness to delirious levels of emotions only usually experienced by pregnant women.

She cried because he really meant to call her fat, she just knew it.

The next one paced the floor because she couldn't understand why she was losing.

He went into a fit of rage because everyone was being lame about the fact that they were losing.

They all mobilized against him for speaking reason, and now there's a feeling of mutiny on the ship.

They are all bored, so they form new islands of alliances and start hating each other from across the room.

I keep wanting to go hang out in the coach's lounge where there is a lot less drama (lot less drama for a drama and debate tournament, that is) but everytime I go in there, the company seems to somehow be worse than my survivor-bound students.
Plus, I have also sank to a new low because we really did lose rounds for SILLY and STUPID reasons, so I don't want to go look at all of the judges and coaches that are happy at their success.

Sad times when you would rather hang out with crying kids before you would sit near gloating coaches.

At that point, the perfume wars started. You know, the "it's really funny to spray things like Bod, Axe, and Ralph Lauren Blue and mix them with my funky nervous body sweat stains" smell?

Now our entire general area reeks. Let the drama continue.

The ex-boyfriend shows up so another one goes down crying.

Her speech was only 4 minutes long and she has never, in 4 years given a 4 minute speech, so she is crying too.

I guess because of all of the delirium in the air, another one decides to commence crying because her mother never gives her enough money and she's hungry. I gave her two bucks and sent her to the concession stand. Good Grief.

The awards assembly starts and we are ready to go home. During the awards assembly, there is supposed to be an opening skit where a monkey flies in and the Tournament Director knocks off the head of the monkey, but even that is ruined because the head falls off of the monkey before the awards even begin.

We all believe that was symbolic of our tournament experience, the head did indeed fall off the monkey.

But just like the Grinch learning the value of a Christmas miracle, I was caught off guard when I heard my name being called for The Monty Python Coach of the Year. In a stunned manner, I walked as quickly as I could to the stage to retrieve my prize. I look down and it is a turkey trophy. Not metaphorically, It really is a gold turkey, in plastic form molded to the top of a wooden base. Still kind of shocked from all of the applause and cheers, I walk back to the kids and they are screaming. Now, we investigate the turkey trophy, and all of the sudden the laughs start up.

We know why it's a turkey trophy, but I guess you don't. It's not because I am a turkey and it's not because my kids are turkeys, although it is fun to call them a bunch of turkeys and I might start using that antiquated phrase more often, however, it was just an award for Coach of The Year. The reason a turkey is on the top is because the trophy was donated. The coach trophy, and all of the champs trophies (champs is the division where people that have already placed at a tournament compete in, the rest of the kids compete in qualifying or novice) are donated from the community. Every year they use the money that they would have used to purchase trophies in Champs division and donate it to a local charity. This year the money went to a charity that tries to buy school supplies for underprivileged children. The tournament director's logic is that kids who have already placed at another tournament wouldn't mind a silly trophy instead of a realistic one. We ended up with tennis, track, and turkey trophies from that division. And from that point on, everything seemed a little brighter in all of our days. In another series of unexpected events, one of our sophomores managed to place first in an event, which I am pretty sure even surprised him. I am proud of all of my kids. Even though they drive me nuts at times, I think that I probably also drive them crazy.

We earned the turkey part of the turkey trophy and we are pumped about owning it now. I think the moral of the story is that all of us are going to go home to work LESS on our dramatic moments at tournaments, and MORE on our WE ARE HAPPY TO BE AMONG FRIENDS moments. As my eyes closed on three weeks of emotional hell, I reflected on its happy hilarious ending. Right before my mind gave way to deep comatic sleep, a smile curved across my cheeks and I reached down and tapped the black revenge bracelet on my right hand and drifted off to sleep...