Road Rash

As a child, I loved playing soccer. I spent one season playing on an all-girls team but graduated quickly to playing Co-ed. This was better because Co-ed teams translated into more sports, less crying, and definitely less pink.

I was something of a tomboy in those days; I loved playing with boys and competing against other boys. I liked beating them. I liked running past them and scoring. I liked being hardcore while smugly knowing they couldn’t do much to me because...well, I was a girl. And as true as that was, I just wanted to play soccer like everyone else on the team.

One evening at practice, I was helping to shag balls behind the goal. Running quickly after a ball, my cleats caught in a loose pile of gravel, my feet flew out from under me and I fell. To be more precise, my feet flew out from under me and I slid across the road until I stopped. In that moment, my tough-guy act was forgotten and I became simply A Girl. And I cried.

I cried because it hurt. Really hurt! Road rash—if only across my knees and hands—but OUCH! I had gravel stuck inside my skin. Inside!! That was not natural and it hurt and so—I cried. I’m sure my dad told me to walk it off. I’m sure my mom prescribed Neosporin and Bandaids when I got home. That part I don’t really remember. What I clearly remember is crying at soccer practice—in front of the boys.

Rest assured I was back to my tomboy, “take no prisoners”-self by gameday. And I’m sure I kicked the ball into some guy’s stomach very soon thereafter.

Random Story Generator

Here's the game: Give me a word--any word*--and I will provide a true story that relates to it. I have a sneaking suspicion I can come up with something for any given word in the English language. I'm starting today with one of my favorite words...and favorite stories. But go ahead and suggest some for the future and I'll see what I can do.

RHOMBUS
I graduated from the Y with a B.A. in History Teaching. After a year in the History Teaching program, I learned the sad truth that its hard to get a job teaching history--especially if you don't coach. Our professors strongly encouraged us to find another subject to minor in or to seek out an endorsement of some sort. I only needed to take 3 courses for a Level 2 Math Endorsement, so I decided to pursue that course.

Being a History Teaching major in the Math Teaching courses was generally, in a word, humiliating. I had forgotten a lot my basic math and this fact reared its ugly head on more than one occasion. One of the most memorable came in a technology class. We were instructed to create a rhombus on our Geometer's Sketchpad program. I turned to the girl sitting next to me and politely asked what a rhombus was. The look she gave in response was a mixture of shock/disdain/horror/amusement. It was a look I received a lot in those classes. It was a look I clearly understood to mean, "What the #!&* are you doing in this class?!"

I took the hint. Today I teach 6 periods of history--and only history. Math students of the world can rejoice.

*But let's all be adults and keep it relatively clean, shall we?

Dream On

I've been having weird dreams lately. Three times in the past week or so I have dreamed about absentmindedly eating treats and then feeling insane amounts of guilt about the consumption. One time the treat was gummy scottie dogs from Dylan's Candy Store in NYC. I love those. But this sort of mental nighttime weirdness I can explain--I've been abstaining from sugar and the diet change can start to wear on you. I just miss it! Cupcakes. Cookies. Toasted Almond Ice Cream from Leatherby's with Hot Fudge on the side. Oh buddy...

I'm actually doing well with my Lent observations. I don't crave treats--just miss them. In fact, I made cookies on Wednesday without taking a single taste of dough, finished cookie, or even snitching a chocolate chip. What can I say? I'm a rockstar.

But back to the weird dreams. I had a dream about Matthew Gray Gubler from TV's Criminal Minds. I told him I'm a fan of his show and he gave me a giant hug--like I'd just made his entire life worth something again. And the night after that I know I dreamed about John Stamos. I don't really remember what happened, but I'm sure it was something droll...

Tonight I'd like to dream about sleeping. Dreaming about sleeping is like getting a double rest in one.

Most Excellent

Mondays have a bad reputation. In movies, songs, and regular conversation, we talk bad about Monday. Is it really Monday's fault that the work week's commencement falls on it? I don't think so. And after yesterday's brilliance, I am more inclined to look fondly on Monday.

I had a Conference up in Salt Lake on teaching the Holocaust. Thus...I did not have to teach. My sub covered my classes while I went to the McGillis school and got some awesome teaching ideas at a conference that ended at 12:30. Yes, folks, 12:30. I worked for 4 1/2 hours--during which they fed me and gave me free stuff. Excellent!

I stopped at Wendy's on 1300 East for a quick bite. I got 7 nuggets in my 5-piece. Excelente!

I took my car to the mechanic's shop. Justin looked at my car, lubed a couple of places and declared it "fine"--and didn't charge me a thing. MOST EXCELLENT!

Then I had all afternoon to do my laundry, clean the bathroom and my bedroom, and even clean out my closets of two BIG bags full of clothes that don't fit and/or I don't wear. SWEET EXCELLENCE!

Dinner was at Mom's (free food!) and I watched Get Smart at FHE. Mucho Excelente!!

Overall, a most excellent day. I vow to praise Monday's name for at least a week.

I'm Giving Up

I am not Catholic, but I've decided to give up sugar in observation of Lent this year. I'm taking this on for two reasons. First, after reading up on Lent and what the point of it is--I'm kind of a fan. There's goodness behind it, and I support goodness. Secondly, I'm apparently all over a new challenge these days.

So far I'm not finding it as difficult as I'd imagined. I've got a couple good friends who have also taken it upon themselves to part ways with our dear friend, Sugar, until Easter. Its nice to know you're not in it alone. The hardest part of the day is the afternoon, post-lunch, while I'm still at work. But overall--its good. I've cleared my cupboards of all temptations (i.e. chocolate chips, candy, cookies, etc.) and restocked with fruit and healthy...stuff. Let's just hope I'm not sick of applesauce by the time Easter rolls around!

You're Ruining My Magic Time!

I went to Disneyland last weekend with my family. It was super fun and I'm so glad my parents decided to make it a family trip. We flew in early Thursday morning and came home Saturday evening. We got about 2 1/2 days in at the parks and good times were had. I loved the new Toy Story ride--Midway Mania--and would go back today to ride it again. Those Imagineers...genius.

Anyway, despite all these good times and good treats, I couldn't help but be frustrated by a few things. It doesn't matter how magical Disney is, its also a public place thus forcing you to deal with people. And people, as a general rule, are annoying. With some analysis and time to think, I have crystalized my Four Disney Pet Peeves--in a very particular order.

1. Strollers. I hate strollers at Disneyland. They get in the way. Parents use them as weapons whilst moving through crowds. If a person were to stop in the middle of the pathway, you go around them easily; if a person with a stroller stops, the entire crowd has to stop because its just so big! My siblings suggested we market shirts featuring this wise saying: "Strollers: Ruining Disneyland Since 1955." I'd buy one.

2. Babies/Toddlers. Maybe this seems wrong because Disney is for kids, right? But I firmly believe Disneyland is not the place for children under the age of 6. Relating directly to #1, if your children still need a stroller they shouldn't be at Disneyland. Children under the age of 6 can't handle, or appreciate, the magic of Disney. I hate the crying, the screaming, the little human-ites underfoot...leave them at home. Bring them to this happy place when they are old enough to deal with it. And really love it.

3. No Line Etiquette. If I was to write a book on any aspect of Disneyland Touring, it would be on proper line etiquette. I would send copies to everyone who books a trip through Disney Vacations in the hope that it might make a difference. If you have a trip planned to Disneyland or Disney World or the movie theater or anywhere that queuing will take place--please pay attention. Proper Line Etiquette is simple.

• Do Not Get In Line Until Your Entire Party Is With You.
• If you get in line first and the rest of your party gets in four people back, you move back--they don't move up with you.

I don't understand how people can miss this--basic manners! Sheesh. Well...actually I do. Read on to #4.

4. My Vacation is More Important Than Yours. Despite the fact that they are surrounded by hundreds of other people who have come to this happy place for a fun vacation with family and friends, some Disney guests act like they are the only people there. Or at least like they should be the only people there. These are the brash, rude, line jumping guests who will do anything to make sure their vacation is the best--even if it means infringing on the good times of others.

The answer to all of these problems is easy. People need to stop and have a little consideration for others. Really. That's it. If people would stop and think about the other people who will be vacationing around them at Disneyland, they'd probably act a little different--a little better. They would realize that their untameable 2-year old might be frustrating to have at a busy park--especially when strapped into a large stroller. They would realize that many people want to ride Peter Pan's Flight and they should get in line in an orderly fashion to as not cause more problems to other people looking for a good time.

Really folks. This is not hard. Just try a little hard. Be a little better. Then we can all enjoy the magic of Disney a little bit more. And eat lots of churros together in harmony. Nothing wrong with that.