My Bucket of Parts

Doing the dishes

2012-01-26T20:40:00.001-05:00

Someday I'll have a dishwasher, but until then I have help.

Poor Yurtle

2012-01-21T23:53:00.004-05:00

His arm has been missing for a while now, but the first time it was torn off, I sewed it up with yarn. He is now the go-to for outside play.

"I like turd nuggets"

2012-01-21T11:39:00.002-05:00

My sixth graders had to take a "quest" today. This is the word teachers use to tell a student that it's not quite as big as a test, but it's still bigger than a quiz. It's psychological. By saying this, they won't freak their freak.

Although my 72-point "quest" is more of a test, isn't it? Quelled fears indeed.

Before handing out the "quest," I kept saying "test" today, and then I would over-dramatically correct myself by covering my mouth with my hands. I gasped, "I'm sorry. The quest. The quest isn't going to be that difficult!"

But it kind of was...

Some of the concepts we hit on in my journalism class, like what makes news news can be complicated for their un-abstract-able brains. For example, the element of human interest is news because it deals with everyday people overcoming odds, or it's a in-depth feature story focusing on people, while introducing facts and figures to the reader, or it gives the reader "warm fuzzies." They latch on to "everyday people" and tell me that someone rolling their vehicle from an accident and dying is human interest because it dealt with an "everyday person." They also like to point out that a story about the Kardashians would be human interest because they find it interesting.

*Hand to face*

They tried to squeeze in last minute questions before I handed out the four-part test...I mean quest...the quest! Part one focused on facts versus opinions. In the quest, I wanted them to "prove" some of the opinion statements and tell me how they could identify that it was an opinion. You know, saying "I think" in the sentence makes it an opinion, or the word "best" makes it an opinion. Simple things like that.

They got all confused because only facts can be proven, not opinions. I told them, I was just using the word "prove" loosely here.

So, to help clarify, I said, "'I like turd cupcakes is an opinion.' You would then say that 'It's an opinion because it has the statement "I like' in it."'"

After the giggles subsided, one of my kids then asked, "So, if I wrote on the quest, 'I don't like turd cupcakes, I think strawberry cupcakes are better,'that makes it an opinion, that would be a good response?"

"Yes," I said. "Be creative with your response about the opinions."

Then one of my other students raised her hand and asked, "So, 'I like turd nuggets' would be an opinion?"

I gasped at her and told her that she was disgusting.

Snow Girls

2012-01-21T11:19:00.002-05:00

Paper Tweet #3

2012-01-07T18:46:00.001-05:00

It may not necessarily mean I'm published, but...

2012-01-04T23:08:00.003-05:00

I write for a random website called Ficly. It allows people to post short fiction and then you can read and comment on other people's fiction. What makes this site different than others is that you can write prequels/sequels to other people's stories -- so the creativity is boundless.

Sometimes, a story will get featured on the site. I have never really paid attention to this...until now, when one of my stories was featured. It doesn't necessarily mean I'm published, but it feels nice that someone took notice of something I wrote.

"The Thing That Betty Has" was only viewed 27 times, which isn't too bad, but that alone gave me the courage to submit the story to an anthology about haunted objects. As much as I love a good literary novel, I'm having fun sinking back into my speculative fiction roots. It's just way more fun.

Paper Tweet #2

2011-12-31T17:55:00.003-05:00

This looks like it's going to be my last post of 2011. Unlike other websites, magazines and blogs, I'm not going to reminisce about the year that has been. Instead, I'm going to post, what I believe will be a fun addition to the website, another Paper Tweet.

And for good measure, a mustache:

Magnet Letters!

2011-12-30T13:07:00.001-05:00

Why haven't I ever thought of this before?

Paper Tweet #1

2011-12-26T00:07:00.000-05:00

"Hey, watch your mouth!"

2011-12-24T10:48:00.000-05:00

My first year at the middle school I currently teach at, the whole building was under construction. This wasn't a big deal except for one thing: We lost access to teacher-only bathrooms.

Teachers now had to shed their dignity and use the bathrooms the kids were using. I hated this for many reasons.

Even though the bathroom was right next to my classroom, the convenience did not outweigh the cost, and that cost was my own dignity.

Teacher's (well, most) drink coffee. Coffee is out elixir to dive into the morning at full speed. For some of us, teaching is a performance (except math teachers) and we need the energy. Coffee is also a diuretic. It makes you go.

During a period when I had no students in my room, I decided it was safe to attend the obnoxiously public bathroom. It was empty. I was safe. I chose the clean handicap stall (because middle school boys like to pee all over the seat when it's down, which is also highly frustrating, but they do have some assemblance of little souls and don't ruin the handicap stall). I sat down and started to go potty when three or four middle school boys decided to infiltrate my calm. That's when the ungainly dialogue started:

"Oh gawd, it smells like s#@$ in here!"

There were some other choice phrases uttered, as well. Ones that don't bear repeating.

Here I was, a teacher, in close range of middle schoolers using rough language and what was I going to do? Call them out?

"Hey, watch your mouth!"

I was not going to say anything, lest it be known that I was the one in the stall making the bathroom smell like $#!*. Instead, I kicked up my legs and had pressed my feet against the stall door so they wouldn't see my adult-looking shoes. I had to hide. I sat like that for a few seconds, raising a fist and cursing the lunch monitors for letting them leave the cafetorium to use the bathroom. Don't they realize that us teachers have nowhere to go? We are like open-range antelopes on the African plain.

Luckily, that was the last time I had to use the bathroom. Since then, I had surgery and I don't go anymore. There was no use waiting until after spring break to use an adult-only bathroom.

"You committed a Mr. Williams!"

2011-12-22T16:15:00.002-05:00

I remember listening to stories from my aunt about when she was in high school. Apparently, one of her teachers would kick his foot up on the desk or chair. He would lean on his knee, pick his nose and put the boogers in the cuff of his pants!

Ok, sure, sometimes a teacher gets a booger, and maybe he is out of tissues, so he need to discreetly use a thumb or toe, but to kick his leg up on the desk and, in front of rows of your students, drop those snot crusts into the up-turned fold of his pants? So, they go with him everywhere?

I don't think I give my students enough ammo to strike me down, or tell horrid stories about me behind my back. Not now.

But, there was this one time that I might have, perhaps, given some kids a good wad of ammo. They probably still talk about it today, now that they're all in their 20's, and groan and say, "Ugh, you just committed a Mr. Williams."

And what is a Mr. Williams, you might ask?

It was my first semester of teaching, and I got a wonderful gig at the high school in my current district. There weren't desks in my classroom, but tables. There were two kids per table, and I was sitting at a table in the front of the room. There were two girls sitting at this table. They were all listening to me as I read aloud to them.

That's when it happened. It wasn't loud, mind you, and most of the students probably had no clue what was going on. My bottom threw out a silent-but-deadly toot. It was no big deal, right? Everyone does it. Except this one, while I read, began to creep. It creeped hard. Up my nose. In my mouth. Into my pores. It was bad. I tried to ignore it, but for some reason, the sheer awfulness of the situation began to strike me as funny. In my head, I realized I had committed the sin of being that teacher. This was funny to me. And so I started to laugh.

I laughed hard. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't read. I forced my mouth around the words, but my cheeks just wouldn't let me complete the words. I placed the book over my face and continued to laugh.

"What's so funny, Mr. Williams?" they asked.

"Oh, I just farted, and it smells like rotten death. I can't help it, but I think it's hysterical!"

I couldn't say that! When did a teacher admit to a bodily function? I couldn't give myself up like that. I had my dwindling dignity to hold onto.

So, I just told them, "Oh, something just struck me as funny."

"What is it? What struck you as funny?"

They never ask questions about the homework, but they ask why I'm laughing? It was so unfair. I had no good excuse. "I just thought of something funny from earlier today," I said.

"What is it?" they kept asking.

"Oh, don't worry about it."

By then, my fart had turned into that socially awkward person that just doesn't know when to leave. My laughter, at that point, was finally starting to die down, but not without the loss of my innocence. The two girls who were sitting at the table that I was sitting on gave me a dirty look, and that dirty look said: "We know what you're laughing at, and we don't think it's funny."

I'm sure the news spread after class. "Did you smell Mr. Williams?"

"Oh. My. Gawd," they would reply. "Did he invoke the god of death, or what?"

And a good friend would come up. "What are you talking about?"

"Do you know Mr. Williams?" the others would ask.

"Yeah, I've heard of him. People say he's an amazing teacher and that they want to be just like him."

"Well, not anymore. He farted in class, it smelled terrible and he just laughed at it!"

The girls would just roll their eyes in disgust. And then, if they ever farted in public around each other, they would say, "Ugh, you just committed a Mr. Williams. Say you're sorry!"

Now, eight years later, the high school kids are probably still calling a public fart a "Mr. Williams." At this point, they don't know who Mr. Williams was, but the term is probably stuck in their school lingo, one of those school-wide slang terms. We say it, but we don't know where or how it originated.

I totally re-read "Bag of Bones" by Stephen King

2011-12-04T00:28:00.001-05:00

When I found out A&E was making a mini-series from Stephen King's "Bag of Bones," I was like, what? I haven't read that since I was a young pup, when it was probably totally inappropriate for me to read it!

I decided to re-read it before the movie came out. When the thought first occurred to me, oh, a few months ago, that's when I should've read it. Instead:

I pulled it off the shelf and decided to read it the week before it airs.

That is just so like me.

I'm also a slow reader. It was not going to be easy.

Then, I started doing something I never do when it comes to books I own -- I started highlighting passages, and then I started writing, in pencil, next to those passages. Books have always been sacred to me. Writing in them just seemed sacriligeous. Except for school books I owned. Those were FAR from important to me...well...they were important, but...oh, nevermind...

It felt liberating to write in one of my books. Not too liberating, though. If I wanted to go absolutely crazy, I would've written in Sharpie. Or at least pen. Using a Sharpie is what wild men use. The serious reader, the one that writes in every book and then writes a paper about it, and then publishes said paper. And teaches a college lit. class. That crazy man.

Or as we will call them: Cray-cray.

I'm not necessarily going to write a paper, but the act of highlighting and writing in the book isn't speeding up the process, so why am I doing it? It feels intelligent, I think that's why I'm doing it. After teaching middle school kids to do this and watching them, well, not, it was nice to see me be a cognitive reader.

See exhibit A below:

The good new is, I was able to get through the book just in time for the mini-series. I got home after eating dinner at a friend's house, I curled up on the couch, and I flipped on A&E, a channel I never have on. Then, as Pierce Brosnan traipsed around stage in his "return to TV" I realized HOW BORED I WAS! The dumb teleplay writer decided to take so many liberties with the story that it was ridiculous.

I fell asleep at about 10:20 p.m.

I hate it when writers take ANOTHER writer's work and take major liberties and changes up a whole bunch of stuff. The things that were changed didn't even matter and they should've been left alone.

Boo! I was also mad because I plowed through that book in vain.

I also decided that it shouldn't have ever been made into a movie. It was more of a book-book, not a movie-book, like, say, "The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo."

NaNoWriMoWinner!

2011-11-30T22:28:00.001-05:00

50,381 words. I missed only two days. The second book in the series I'm writing isn't finished yet, but I think I learned a much greater lesson.

HOW TO TAKE OVER THE WORLD!

Well, at least the discipline I would need in order to take over the world. I've learned a few things this month of November:

One of them is that having bronchitis and, then, pneumonia, is not fun, and that sometimes, the weird light-headedness that comes with both can offer great ideas for writing. One Friday night, while my head floated around the room, it felt like helium was all up in my head, I pounded out about 2,100+ words. And they were good. I read some aloud to Steph and she seemed to like them. She doesn't even like to be read to...

Another thing I learned about myself? I also enjoy a giant mug of tea, very British, I know, while I write and I don't even put sugar in it. I have learned, while writing like a maniac, that I can enjoy tea plain. We have a box of Roastaroma that I particularly enjoy. It's like decaf coffee, but not made from beans.

Another thing I learned? I can work and write regardless of what time, what location, as long as I stay dedicated. I didn't get creatively fatigued. If anything, writing everyday was creatively rejuvenating. Even while hanging out with friends, I would begin to panic. "OMG! I haven't written yet today, I need to go!" The last time I tried to NaNoWriMo, I got all distracted and only committed to 16,000 or so words. I don't even know why. I have grown up a lot since then.

Since Nov. 30, I haven't worked on the book, which is stupid, I know, but I needed a little break. I'll return here shortly, after this brief interruption. I need every month to be NaNoWriMo, that way I would refrain from using any kind of excuse.

But I did neglect ye old website, so that wasn't so great. Now, if only I could figure out a way to do both with equal amounts of zest...

Happy Thanksgiving!

2011-11-24T15:06:00.001-05:00

It's been a creative month here at My Bucket of Parts, the problem is...you haven't seen any of it. I've had to neglect a lot of what I do on this website to hunker down and work on National Novel Writing Month. As of today, I am at 41,000+ words and still going strong.

I'm thankful that I have so many outlets to be creative through, and most of them don't cost me anything. May you be creative, too.

I'd like to dedicate this post to...

2011-11-14T22:34:00.001-05:00

Myself! Squee!

The month of November has been dubbed NaNoWriMo. This means National Novel Writing Month. It was started by a guy named Chris Baty and the first one took place during the month July, 1999. He moved it to November because it's a sad, boring month, and November needs something inspiring attached to it.

The goal is to reach about 50,000 words ("The Great Gatsby"-sized) of a novel, either by completing the novel or having written the first 50,000 words of the novel. I've got a feeling I'm just going to have written the first 50,000. But, if you've got that much, you win. Anyone who gets that far is a winner.

I participated in 2008, but I failed only making it to 16,000 words of a book I had been wanting to start. This past summer, I finally finished that book (which needs some major editing). When October came around and I started hearing more about NaNoWriMo, I knew I wasn't going to be a part of it. I still had the first book of a (so far, planned) trilogy to work on. You can't write the second book until you're completely happy with the first one, right?

And then, on Oct. 31, last minute, I decided, "Screw it. I'm going to start Book 2." I had no plan. I really had no idea where I really wanted to GO with Book 2. I told a friend on Twitter that I had changed my mind about NaNoWriM,o and I was going to do it by saying this:

I have decided to #nanowrimo this year. I think it's my sanity all dressed up as confidence for Halloween.

Here's the thing with me and writing. It takes discipline. Guess what I lack? Yup. Discipline. So, why did it take over two years to write the first book? Discipline.

And then, I started writing Book 2. The first week, I had this unbelievable itch to write. I had to. I had this OCD mentality about it. If I didn't get to do it, I was going to freak out. Each evening, the first week, I made sure I had my computer up and running so I could write. By the time the second week hit, we would be at a friend's house for dinner and I would say to Steph, "We need to go. I haven't NaNoWriMo'd tonight."

Even if I'm not quite sure where I want to go with the story that day, I sit down and write. Some days it's really easy and the words fly out of me. Other days, it's incredibly difficult and I catch myself nodding off because it's so late. If it's one of the late nights, I just make sure I get to the minimum word count for the day, which is 1,667 words. The minute I do, it's a huge relief. By that point, though, I'm usually awake again on a second wind and I write some more.

It hasn't been uncommon for me to stay up past midnight writing.

I have even set up a spreadsheet to help me with characters, plot-points and word count numbers. The minute I introduce a new character, I enter their name and a short description in the column. I have never been so precise.

If anything, NaNoWriMo has taught me that I can be very disciplined if I need to be, and it also removes the difficulty of it. So much of writing is just doing it, but you can ask anyone else and they'll tell you that they find ways to become distracted. I am one of those people, but luckily for the month of November I have become dedicated to it, and I hope that I will take this dedication that I've learned about myself, this discipline, and use it further, because quite honestly, I would like to see these things and print.

And so do you.

You just don't know it yet.

It's swaggering...

2011-11-10T20:23:00.001-05:00

My students hear all the time that I used to write for the campus newspaper when I was in college. They hear me say it, and I'm sure they know I'm legit because I kind of know what I'm talking about when it comes to teaching them the trade, but today I shattered the silence and shared one of the stories (it was about chewing tobacco) with them today and it was swaggering...

Um, yeah...

As I read the story aloud, I came to this sentence:

After I read that sentence, I thought to myself, "That doesn't sound right." Well, that's because:

And if you look at the definition of the verb:

So, apparently, in all my amazing reporter ways, I had a sentence published that tells the reader that the statistics of oral cancer walk around with a defiant strut. That oral cancer statistics can brag very noisily. I never did meet an oral cancer statistic that I liked. They're not very humble, are they?

Besides that AP Style fail, and another sentence in the story that's a bit jumbly, it's not really that bad of a story. If you would like to take a look at it yourself, I have provided it here for your viewing pleasure.

Quit being such a laxative!

2011-11-09T20:28:00.003-05:00

World-wide Interweb, it has been too long!

Have you missed me? Did you even realize I was gone? You probably have no clue I exist. It says this site has been visited over 9,000 times, but how many times has that been an accidental search by someone in China?

I'm a bore and not famous yet, but I'm working on that. In a very passive-aggressive way. As of now, those passive aggressive tendencies have been focused in a more aggressive sense by working my little typing fingers to the bone. I have joined many across the country in an attempt to commit to a novel during the month of November.

Ah, yes, National Novel Writing Month is upon us again. We are 9 days into it, and I have yet to pound out my 1,667 words for the night, but do not fret, my pet, I will be whittling away the story yet again in an hour or so. I think I'll eat first.

But until I do, I thought I would share an anticlimactic, but amusing teaching moment. It's like I've just put a platter in front of your face and I'm about to pull off that shiny-dome-lid-thing and say, "ta da!"

The New Insult

The latest tale is about the birth of a new insult. Now, I don't go around insulting my students because I'm mean. This is actually a "slam" that came about on accident. I told a few students last Friday that the day was going to be lax, as in relaxing, as in, not too stressful. Then, I looked at a student and said, "It sounds like laxative, doesn't?"

And then it appeared! My latest insult:

"Quit being such a laxative!" I yelled at my student, and we both looked at each other and started laughing hysterically.

"Can I write that on the board?"

"No! I do not need the principal to come into my room and see that!"

Oh, how my face was red from laughing.

My Bucket of Likes: September

2011-10-10T21:10:00.002-04:00

If you're noticing that my latest update of My Bucket of Likes is late, it's because September was lame in the "likes" department. I had to scrounge for my likes.

The Knife of Never Letting Go by Patrick Ness was a book I stumbled upon because the title was really weird. I mean, "The Knife of Never Letting Go"? If you read the book, it'll make total sense, of course, but the title, alone, got me. I also found this in the young adult section, which has become a favorite haunt of mine in the library. The story is written in first-person present tense (what I think is a very difficult voice to write in) and, even better, it's written in dialect. Because of the dialect, I wanted to listen to the audiobook version instead, and I did, for pretty much the first 300 pages. The narrator did a good job, but I couldn't take it anymore -- the narrator goes over board after awhile and he does so many dramatic pauses that it feels like I'm listening to "Atlas Shrugged." On the eve of giving up the book, I decided to at least give the actual book a try, now that the dialect was "invisible" to me. The story is about a young boy who is days away from becoming a "man." He finds out the town he's grown up in isn't what it seems, so he escapes. He also stumbles upon a girl, something he hasn't seen before, because all the girls/women have died in his hometown. It's a journey of friendship and trepidation, but it's also a little slow at times...and it was even slower listening to it. I made myself sit down and finish the book one Sunday at the library (so I didn't have to check it out) and by golly, I actually found myself really enjoying the book. I can move on now to the second novel, which I won't be listening to, by the way.

Freegal is a service that our library provides. Just by being a member of the library, I get access to three free downloads a week. Now, three downloads doesn't sound like much to you, I'm sure, but when they feature some of the recent albums I've been wanting from The Script, Augustana and Gavin Degraw (not to mention all the singles from Glee), why not wait a few weeks just to own an album? Sure it takes me a few weeks to get the entire album, but for free? I've been in love with Freegal for longer than just September.

Google Music Beta will someday open up their service to everyone and probably charge, but until then, I'm enjoying my own personal library wherever I go (for free). Sadly my new cell phone (already in the likes bucket for October) only runs Android 2.1, otherwise I would be able to stream my music from my phone, too. I can create school-appropriate playlists, or just listen to whatever album I want from my collection wherever I may roam. I know iTunes has that whole "sharing from computer to computer" function, but with Google Music, I don't need to turn on the main computer for it to work. And since I'm a PC and not a Mac, that whole iCloud-thing isn't going to work for me.

Parenthood on NBC is the only show on network TV (or TV at any point in personal history) that actually makes me cry. Me! I don't shed a tear, but every Tuesday night, around 10:45 p.m., yup, there I go. Stupid show! I bemoan. But I can't help it. It's so funny and serious and real without any of that terrible melodrama so many shows lather on. And, sure, I love some good melodrama (or zombies, so yeah, there's another hint to what will be on my bucket of likes list for October), but to see something so real? Amazing. Obviously it's a little hyped up...but for TV? Pretty realistic. I'm waiting for it to get nominated for an Emmy for best drama -- but as long as AMC shows exist, we all know that won't happen. Until then, I'll always be an honorary Braverman.

So, there you have it. The lamest Bucket of Likes list thus far, but you have to admit...there's a little heart in it, isn't there?

Last pictures from my Env2 phone before the big switch...

2011-09-29T23:45:00.000-04:00

Fall Colors

2011-09-23T23:07:00.001-04:00

This year, I decided to change up the site for fall. Enjoy.

Introducing: The Puptuals!

2011-09-19T22:31:00.001-04:00

A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away, I started doodling my Girls. They have so much personality, it was almost difficult not to doodle them. The more I doodled them, the more I realized they could be in a league with "Garfield" or one of those other animal comic strips that I can't think of right now...

"Marmaduke" maybe?

Nah, he didn't talk. Or she. Was it a she? I'm sure it was a he. Marmaduke is such a masculine name, even if we call every Great Dane a "Marmaduke" regardless of it being male or female.

You know you do it, too. Just like when you see my Nigra, and point (which is rude) and say, "Oh, she's a Lassie dog!"

By the way, you coudn't be more wrong. Nigra is a Sheltie and Lassie was a Collie. Raible, the larger of the two Girls, is the one with Collie in her, but she's also half Golden Retriever, but I digress...

As you can see, I draw the Puptuals with my Crayolas. Crayolas do not sponsor me (however, if they would call, I would not turn them down. I mean, really, Crayola advertising on my site?).

*squee*

Actually, on a side note: If you want to advertise on my site, I will not object. But that's beside the point. I'm still working on what the monthly cost would be. Let me talk to my...financier?

The point is: I am launching a fancier, prettier, more made-up (like a fancy lady) Puptuals website. In the past, like back in the year 2007, I posted a few of the drawings on this site and I think they got lost. Even I have problems trying to find them...

...I mean, this site is super-easy to navigate and you want to advertise here! Actually, look up to the right...no, you're other right...yeah, above the Etsy bags I make (yes, I sew, too). Do you see it? Yup. There's a Google search widget. Can a site get any easier to search?

So, with no further adieu, I introduce to you a lovelier Puptuals website.

A case of coulraphobia no one can escape

2011-09-10T22:41:00.000-04:00

This post was originally written/posted Oct. 22, 2004. I'm re-posting because I have a lot of old content you haven't seen. This is one of my favorite stories from my first year of teaching. My students came into my classroom and began telling me how a clown was lurking in Carmel, Ind. homes. They started talking and I started writing down everything they were saying:

Apparentlythere is a clown living in Carmel, Ind.

Butthis isn’t any ordinary clown, according to one of my middle school students.Living in the fruitful heart of Carmel,there is a clown that hides out in people’s houses.

Thebasement to be exact.

Ispoke to a coach on the way to CPR class (in case the clown attacks, I am nowcertified and can save your life – stay back, you…clown!) and told her what mystudent had said.

“Haveyou heard the latest?”

“No,”she said.

“Well,apparently there’s a clown that had been living in a person’s house for twoweeks and then the clown killed the infant late one night.”

Wecontinued to talk and I started laughing at how ludicrous the story actuallysounded, I mean really, a clown?

“Honey,I’m going to go downstairs to get a new bottle of wine, I’ll be right back,”and the husband vanishes into the vast darkness that stretches out (called thebasement) and searches for the light switch like a blind man reading Braille.The light flicks on and he looks around the unfinished basement his wife hasbeen nagging him about. The cold gray cement floor sends shivers up his legsand boxes are here and there, as well as visible pipes and dank, old furniturethe color of nature (i.e. browns, dark greens, blues) and he walks over to themakeshift wine rack and picks a bottle of Merlot, his wife’s favorite.

So,if there’s a clown hiding out in this man’s basement, the word incognito comesto mind – and, no offense to clowns, they really don’t have it going on. Imean, all that bright orange hair, luminescent white make-up, red lipstick thatgoes beyond the actual lip vicinity and giant blue shoes. Don’t even get mestarted on the collar around their neck that looks like a dog tutu…

Unlessthe husband was severally colorblind, then there would be some issues. All Ipicture is a clown cowering in the corner of the basement, hiding with his white-glovedhands covering his head like a little kid ready for a severe weather drill ingrade school.

“Hecannot see me,” the clown thinks. “I am not here.”

Andwith that scenario in my head, I laughed and realized that middle school kidswere just too gullible to believe a story like that.

Well,later in the week, I found out that the middle school students weren’t the onlyones talking about this so-called clown – the story had spread to a high schoolin the neighboring town. A friend heard it from a friend who heard it from afriend who baby sits in Carmel.

Whichmakes the story even more reliable.

Thebabysitter’s story goes like this: The two small children were always afraid togo to sleep because of the clown, and so the babysitter called the parents toask “what’s the deal?” and the parents said that there was no clown in thehouse.

Thekids told the babysitter that the clown hid in the basement and came up atnight and watched the kids while they slept.

Enterthe heebie jeebies.

Althoughclowns are their own subspecies and should be extinct within the next 40 years,and they are the reason for sever cases of Coulrophobia, but such a bizarre storywould’ve been on the news, all over the papers and a photographer would’vedefinitely won a Pulitzer for covering the scary basement clown.

Angryclown eyes painted a dark blue. Vehement sad clown frown. Steel-toed 52” shoes.A spike collar instead of the dog tutu. Freddy Krueger fingers. And thosearen’t polka-dots all over his baggy clown outfit, no way hosea – it’sspattered blood stains.

Ican’t wait to hear the next suburban legend that’ll pop out of my students’mouths.

Why it's a good thing middle school students haven't read "Lord of the Flies," among other things

2011-09-05T22:27:00.000-04:00

Just like everyone else, I'm scared to go back to work tomorrow. I'm about to start a snow dance for an early September cancellation.

What? It's supposed to be chilly in the morning. It could happen.

I get this way sometimes, especially after a long weekend. I'm sure you do, too. But are you in charge of middle schoolers?

I'm in charge of 121 eighth graders and 28 seventh graders. You have to remember, they're all between the ages of 12 to 14, mainly 12 and 13. These not-so-little beings can't always handle "unstructured" time. You tell them, "Please, use this time wisely to work," and you've got a room crawling with hyper-active kids who talk over each other until the noise boils into a rolling roar. They need their time scheduled out to a T, as in: read this, now answer questions, now breath, make sure your heart is beating, now scratch your nose, pick that wedgie, squeak out a fart and continue reading. This, I have learned with middle school students, is the only way to prevent anarchy. If you give them an inch of downtime, they will try to overthrow you.

Have you ever been a lunch room monitor? If these kids knew about "Lord of the Flies," the three lunch room monitors would be in dire trouble. They're all one inch away from being overthrown. All the adults in the building are one inch away from being overthrown.

That's not necessarily what I'm scared of. It's the planning. Even though I'm in my eighth year of teaching, there are always random weeks where I draw a blank and I'm not as planned as I normally am. This four-day week is one of them. Don't get me wrong, there's a ton to do, I have 150 students to train to become little designers and journalists, but sometimes it's overwhelming. These are the times when I sit and freak out about my schedule and planning, realizing I may not have enough planned.

I have to remember, though, that these are the times when, if I don't focus, the ideas come to me. Usually when I'm singing in my car on the way to school in the morning.

Do you have that, regardless of what you do?

It's always when I don't think about running my classroom when I get my brilliant idea on how I will run my classroom. By not thinking about it, the genius idea strikes me.

It also doesn't help to know that I'm heading into week 5 of this school year. There are a ton of students who haven't even had their first day of school...

And...I'm in charge of a yearbook. That's enough to make everyone a little bit nervous.

A story that involves a typewriter

2011-09-03T13:12:00.002-04:00

Stop me if you've heard this one before:

Years ago, back when I lived at home, I helped out a photo/computer session for my mom's Purdue ladies group. I don't remember what it was I was doing, but it was with my laptop. At first, while getting things set up, I was typing really fast and some of the women were all, "I don't even know if I could turn the thing on..."

This was before iPhones.

I think there was a comment about my fast typing, I can't remember, but there was a woman there that was full of everything dreadful you could think of. As I was typing, she was talking to me, but very loudly so everyone could hear her make some kind of non-point.

"I learned how to type on a typewriter," she said, trying to age herself in front of the other woman (something I still don't understand). "You're so young you probably don't even know what a typewriter looks like."

I looked straight at her and told her, "I learned how to type on a typewriter."

She stood, tore off her face and standing in front of me was a wicked witch. She pointed her bony fingers at me and screeched, "No boy like you defies me!" She started making over dramatic hand motions as she started casting a spell when one of the woman shouted at her:

"Karen, sit down and shut up."

The smoke that started whirling around her sank to the floor. She bent down and picked up her sad, prosthetic face and sat down on the couch, practically putting her head between her knees. She reached for the bean dip and started eating in quiet.

OKAY! Okay. That's not exactly how it happened, but after re-reading it, I realized it was really boring, so I had to do something to spice it up. The woman at the party never told me that I probably didn't know what a typewriter looked like...

Latest MBoP Posters!

2011-09-02T23:11:00.001-04:00

If I could advertise my website, I would have a lot of fun. Just in case, I'm always creating random posters (or billboards for the information superhighway) that shamelessly promote my website:

My Bucket of Likes: August

2011-09-01T22:30:00.002-04:00

I had to think for August. The month went by both slow and fast. Now that I'm 30, I guess it's a written law somewhere that time speeds up. I need one of those belts that's made from a seat belt so I can always be buckled in.

The Help. To laugh and cry (I didn't, but I heard sniffles in the theater) during a movie is one of the best things. I can't say enough great things about the cast in this movie. The women that played in each of the rolls did a phenomenal job, made me believe, made me feel with them and I commend them. I would sit through this movie again and again. I also like that it brings to light the Civil Rights movement to a different generation.

Thirst No. 4: The Shadow of Death. I know the cover looks like some sad teen thriller cover, but if you put the cover away, realize this series of stories started back in 1995, and knew about Christopher Pike as an author, you wouldn't judge. Not that you're judging. I'm just being super-defensive because I always have to defend things I like...especially when they involve vampires. Or vampire slayers. The series, when it first came out, was originally "The Last Vampire," but due to the insanity that was/is vampire novels, HarperCollins re-released it under a new titled "Thirst." Originally there were only 6 books in the series that fit nicely into "Thirst No. 1" and "Thirst No.2." Now that the story's been finished for 15 years, Pike has opened up the story again with two additional books. Did the original 6 end well? Yes. Did Pike really need to continue the story? Not really. Will I ever criticize these books? Never.

Get Smart. I love Mel Brooks. I have not seen all of his movies, but I love the idea of spoofs. I was amused to see the first disc of season 1 was our latest Netflix DVD. Was it a bit corny? Yes. Was the color totally weird since it's from '65? The color red was neon, people! Would you want to watch it on an HDTV? Probably not. Regardless, it's amazing to see what TV was like back then compared to now. I should probably get into more older sitcoms. Plus, they're only 20+ minutes, so I'm not devoting too much time to a certain show.

Flickr: The Commons. I love to see designers use old photos, but I always wonder where those old photos come from. This past August I was doing more design work and to have fun, I randomly used Flickr. That's when I stumbled upon their Commons section, a bunch of copyright-free (as far as anyone knows) photos that you can use. I have made use of old fair photos, random people at a party, and a family picture. By adding those nostalgic photos to my designs, they're funny, and sometimes, ironic. I know Flickr's been around forever, and my intention was never to join, but there are a lot of great photos out there that I can also use because of Creative Commons.

Bonge's Tavern. Located in Perkinsville, Ind., Bonge's Tavern has been around since 1934. It's gourmet food without the gourmet atmosphere. The menu's written on a chalkboard above the bar and it's not very cheap... The only problem is, if you don't get there really early to reserve your spot, you're going to wait for a long time. We went and waited about 4 hours out in the parking lot, but you can tailgate while you wait. Everyone brings their chairs, some people bring a TV table with snacks, and we all wait until we get a seat.

My students were convinced that I was 39!

2011-08-27T12:13:00.000-04:00

In my own spasmodic way, I addressed my fifth period class with a simple, "I have a theme idea!"

My kids (I call them "my kids" because I feel like I can take some ownership of them after spending so much time with them) are working on yearbook themes: the verbal phrase and the visual look the yearbook will have for the year.

They asked what it was and I announced it: "Explosive!"

Puzzled looks were on their faces. "What's that mean?"

I avoided that question and instead drove toward the colors I chose to go with my exciting theme of "Explosive!"

"The colors that will go with this theme will be brown and yellow!" I shouted. I waited to see if my kids would catch on. Some of them did. They made faces, the type that say, "that's gross, Mr. Williams."

It's the same face I get if I burp out loud (but I always excuse myself).

To help explain the theme further, I told them the word "Explosive! would have bits of corn in it. And one of the main shapes we would use throughout the book would be ovals!

"Like a toilet bowl!" I exclaimed, in case they weren't using their inference skills (which they should be doing because we practice them on Fridays).

Then one of my kids said that I was immature. I told them that I had to keep it real, especially when I just turned 39.

"What?" they said. "You're not 39!"

"Yes I am!" I lied, but very convincingly.

"You look like you're in your twenties..."

"That's such a nice compliment. It's because I have a young face," I said. "And with a strict regimen of yoga and herbal supplements, I've managed to stay young looking," I said.

"Wow," they said, beginning to believe me.

And then after a long pause while they digested this information, I shouted, "People! I just turned 30!"

"I KNEW IT!" one of my kids shouted.

After that, I told them to get to work.

Dear Website...

2011-08-19T23:39:00.002-04:00

My Bucket of Likes: July

2011-08-02T01:05:00.001-04:00

I'm stealing this idea from a friend who posts about different things she's enjoying each month. Who knows if I'll be able to keep up, but I liked the idea so much that I decided to enlighten you on things that I've been enjoying throughout the different months.

First things first, if you've visited my Book Review section, you'll know that I've been on a stampede through the "Fables" comic series. Having famous fairy tale characters (and other famous characters from childhood stories) with a new lease on life makes for some entertaining reading. Some of the best characters in this series just so happen to be Boy Blue (yes, the one who blows his horn), Snow White and the Big Bad Wolf. Bill Willingham who created the series has done a phenomenal job of being adventurous, suspenseful, serious and funny all in just a few panels. It's like a television series on paper. There's giant story arcs, little story arcs and "one shots." Just when you get comfortable, Willingham pulls the carpet from under you. You want to get mad at him, but you realize that he's got a grand idea as he weaves his story magic.

As far as hilarity goes, I just finished watching the entire first season of "Hot in Cleveland" and I'm in love with that show. I enjoy eccentric characters. This show is full of them. The lines are great, there's a bunch of snark, Betty White gets to say inappropriate things, what's not to love? There are very few sitcoms out there that make me laugh hysterically, and with each episode of "Cleveland," I've found myself doing that. I look forward in catching up on season two.

A while ago I discovered a website called Aviary. It is an online design tool, much like Adobe Photoshop and Adobe Illustrator. Since I cannot afford either, which both cost about $700 each (or more), I have turned to Aviary because I want to become stronger in my ability to use a design program. Creating an Aviary account is free. Using the program is free. Not only can you edit photography, but Aviary offers 8 different tools. Two of those tools allow you to create music and make recordings. I've always wanted to learn programs like Illustrator and Photoshop, but I've never wanted to take the time to do the work. For some reason, Aviary spoke to me because it's web-based and readily available at any computer with Internet. Since the program is fairly foreign to me, I purchased a "how-to" book that comes full of different projects to learn how to use Aviary to it's fullest. After that, I'll conquer the world.

I've been a fan of Gavin Degraw since the beginning. I've even been lucky enough to see him in concert. A white boy with soul? Sure thang. I haven't received his last two albums fully. They're good, but they didn't hit me like the first album did, you know, the one where he has the leaf on the cover? That album is still one of my favorites. I downloaded his latest single "Not Over You" and it's on repeat. It probably doesn't hurt that Ryan Tedder (of OneRepublic fame) co-wrote the song -- I'm a huge fan of Tedder. So, when two people I admire musically co-create, of course it's going to be greatness.

That's what's in my bucket for the month of July. We'll see what comes around during August, and I'll tell you one thing -- the heat is not going to go into my bucket of likes.

Writing about music (and yes, I post a NKOTB video)

2011-07-27T01:50:00.002-04:00

I have always had a weird taste in music. I enjoy most things popular culture and artists that most people know. You'll even get Steph to talk about my "secret love" of Gloria Estefan and how I know all the words to her covers album "Hold Me, Thrill Me, Kiss Me." You will remember this little ditty that was popular in the 90's:

Now, although I know quite a few of the lyrics from this album, contrary to popular belief, I cannot sing the whole thing. And, yes, I do own it. Judge not. You know you went to the NKOTBSB tour. And you waved your one arm during that one song and sang along.

Will you judge me less to know that my music collection also contains R.E.M., Emmylou Harris, Metallica, Green Day, Travis, Ben Folds, Alicia Keys, Lady Gaga, Counting Crows, Oasis, Plain White T's, Sheryl Crow, Regina Spektor, Gavin Degraw, Sarah McLachlan, Alanis Morissette, Adele, The Script, Lady Antebellum, Madonna, Lenny Kravitz, The Decemberists...

I also have the ubiquitous "Glee" songs.

One of the less familiar artists that I enjoy is a woman named Loreena McKennitt. I would describe her as a folk singer that tends to sway toward the Celtic sound. She's traveled the world and her sound is inspired by such, but most of her songs are either traditional songs found in the Celtic catalog, or have a Celtic sound to them. If you're not sure about Celtic music, think the "Titanic" soundtrack, but spookier. You actually might recall this song on the radio in the 90's. It's only a mass market rendition of one of her songs, and you can make fun of me if you want, but it's not the version found on the actual album...not that really makes a case for my argument, but whatever:

But I have always loved music with Celtic influences. I think it's my Welsh background. My name is "double Welsh" as told to me by a Shakespeare professor in college.

My name is also a whiskey brewed in Kentucky. Either way, Welsh or Kentucky, fiddles are involved. Kentucky is known as the bluegrass state, right? And I do love a good bluegrass song. They often have great fiddle placement. Every song needs good fiddle placement, don't you agree?

One of my favorite songs by Loreena McKennitt is actually one of my favorite poems put to music. I don't think you have ten whole minutes to listen to "The Highwayman," words penned by Alfred Noyes, but it's a haunting tale set to an even more haunting tune. It's a good story. You can thank me later.

My favorite is using her music (or similar-styled music) for my middle school students to write to. They're usually suppressing giggles the entire time.

"Fables" by Bill Willingham, others

2011-07-25T19:02:00.002-04:00

My latest book review is actually reviewing a set of books...thus far. I currently have been reading the "Fables" comic series by Bill Willingham and others. It's a fantastic series that takes all your favorite fairy tale characters and puts them into real life. It's just a tad more gritty than Disney versions. Click here for the review.

Turning 30? Photo Booth, Please!

2011-07-18T01:33:00.000-04:00

For my yearly "Things that I hate" birthday party (this year's theme was baseball), I decided that I wanted to have a photo booth set up. I did some research and they're (at cheapest) $600 (with a person that mans the booth).

Aawwwwwwkwwwwaaaaard.

Instead, we hung a curtain, I created a bunch of props using foam and dowel rods, and we got out my remote control for my Nikon DSLR. The results? Stunning.

On Walden Pond (was CHEAP!)

2011-07-17T17:14:00.001-04:00

When Henry David Thoreau wrote "Walden," he built his own cabin. All by himself. With his bare hands (although, I'm sure some tools were involved). Since he decided to write about his life in the wilderness, inside the first section of "Walden" titled "On Economy" he posted a list of materials and what he paid for them. He did his own work building the small house which only measured 10 x 15 feet (just enough room to move around if he had a Wii). The total cost of all the materials? $28.12.

I know I'm not the first to say this, but wouldn't it be nice if houses still cost that? As a teacher, though, I'd only be making $2 a year in comparison. Luckily, with my $2, I would be able to afford chalk since it cost merely a penny. But was it $.01/piece? GAH!

I'm beginning to read comics now!

2011-07-15T23:21:00.002-04:00

I've only recently gotten involved with graphic novels. Or comics. I was never one to read them because, well, where do you begin? There are so many different stories and brands and heroes and villains and story lines and volumes and editions. You can't just pick one up because the one you pick up is right in the middle of an on-going story. Have you ever turned on "The Young and the Restless" and actually got what was happening?

Plus, the way they're designed is a bit daunting. All those shapes with pictures in them. How do you know which order to go in? And the dialogue bubbles...how do those work?

Plus, I just never thought to read them. My comic book extent was collecting Marvel Hero Cards for several years (I started when I was 10). I also watched "X-Men" on Fox when it was a cartoon. After that, the super hero movies started coming out and after getting annoyed with the "X-Men" movies, I just gave up. Did you see X-Men: The Last Stand? It was total poop.

I was finally led down the path of comic books and graphic novels when a bunch of stories I was already invested in began to enter the format.

Stephen King entered it using his Dark Tower series, and years after my favorite TV show ended, Joss Whedon went and helped create an eighth season in comic form. I have since read parts of both. I think it helped that I knew the characters well. It was like comics in training.

A few years ago, a friend of mine told me about a series called Fables, where fairy tales are in exile. Interesting premise, I thought, and even more interesting? My library carries the series. While my brother-in-law got his gall bladder removed this past holiday season, I took the volume one with me and read it rather quickly. I decided that I liked it. I just finished volume two, and now I'm on to volume three.

It's like a great TV series in book form! And anything can go!

"Book Reviews" tab introduction

2011-07-12T02:40:00.002-04:00

In elementary school, when it was time to work on reading, I was a part of the blue group. There was nothing wrong with the blue group, but it wasn't the red group. It never stopped my love of reading, but don't think that I didn't catch on when I never got to read "Stone Soup" as a kid.

I still have no clue what that story is about. Even kids in the blue group needed to be exposed to that.

I'd totally be part of the red group today, though. "Stone Soup" can eat it.

But since being a part of the blue group didn't deter me from reading, you've probably caught on that I like to write book reviews about the books I've read. Mostly, it's for myself. It's a way for me to process what I've read.

There's also this whole saying out there that writers need to be readers. I read about authors out there that do nothing but read. They go through 100+ books a year. As much as I love to read, I'm just not fast. I'm lucky to get in 20 books a year in.

And if you know me, you can guess how it makes me feel. Guilty. When I have time to either write or read, just imagine the spiritual warfare that commences. There's a lot of smoke, yelling and sometimes expletives (not from me, mind you) and it gets to be so much that I just sit and do nothing.

I've got the devil telling me to be idle and read! On the other shoulder, I have the angel yelling at me to write a book, not read one.

Then I start to cry.

But, when I'm not reading, I am often writing -- and some of what I write are book reviews. This My Bucket of Parts site used to be called "The Appendix" and it housed all kinds of random stuff that didn't fit in my main website and the book reviews fit nicely. Well, since this site has become the main website, I thought I would try out a separate site for my book reviews. As of now, this is a dry-run. If I find that it's dumb, I will re-integrate my book reviews back into the main site and this project will have ended up being just a bored creative-type's excuse to play on the computer instead of doing something more creative/productive.

So, take a step with me on this creative journey, look above and find the "book reviews" tab and click on it.

What? You're already done with the book?

Check it out here!

Column Update | Why I can't handle summer break

2011-07-07T00:46:00.001-04:00

Click on the postage stamp above and it'll mail you to the column! Get it? *sighs* I'm trying too hard, aren't I? I'm sorry, it's just, well, I haven't posted an extended column since March. I didn't think I still had them in me. I guess you could say I'm just a little bit excited.

Jellybean comes to visit!

2011-07-07T00:35:00.003-04:00

Every summer my in-laws go up to Wisconsin for about a week and we get their Shih-tzu, Stella. Last summer, she was laying on the couch. The way she lies reminded me of the shape of a jellybean, so that’s what I call her now.

I can sell photography on Etsy, too!

2011-07-05T12:50:00.003-04:00

Etsy, the do-it-yourself-sellers Mecca, often has some unique and pleasant items that a person of my abilities cannot create. But it makes me feel good when I come across an item someone is trying to sell for $20 that I already have a TON of.

This is what they are selling:

I already own it:

Look what I just dug up…

2011-07-04T16:01:00.003-04:00

While cleaning for our July 4th cookout, I was sorting through some things and I came across some old photos of myself.

"The Magicians" by Lev Grossman

2011-07-01T00:59:00.000-04:00

Do you ever go to the library with an idea of what you want to check out, but the minute you walk into the stacks, you blank?

It happens to me all the time. I know exactly what I want before I get there, and then I walk into the building and I'm overwhelmed. I begin to aimlessly peruse, hoping to remember what it was I wanted, but I never do.

Images will flicker, but they usually dissipate before I can grasp them again.

I was smart this past library visit and had my Goodreads list ready on my iPod loaded up.

One of the books I grabbed was "The Magicians" by Lev Grossman. After I had read "Harry Potter," this one intrigued me, not because the reviews (all over the place) call this "an adult Harry Potter," but because it actually sounded interesting in and of itself. You read one story where teenagers go to school to learn magic and you just want to read more of them.

It's like all those people out there that can't get enough of their vampire romances.

I won't compare "The Magicians" to "Harry Potter" at all. It's fun how he will mention the J.K. Rowling series, nodding to an element, but the characters are merely "winking" and saying how that is a fictional world, whereas their's is the real one. I'm afraid to mention anything too modern in my own writing, and although the "Potter" series has pretty much transcended time and culture, I liked that Grossman wasn't afraid to go ahead and mention it, as he did J.R.R. Tolkien's works (which are older and even more timeless). I'm always afraid to mention popular culture while writing because I'm afraid it'll date the story.

"The Magicians" is the non-fantasy readers fantasy. It dips you in one leg at a time, like you're getting into a cold pool. It's something you may not be used to, but Grossman doesn't go crazy until the end, when it's in full-blown fantasy mode, and at that point, you're ready.

Unlike reading China Mieveille's "Embassytown," where you're thrown into the pool. Head first.

We've got our main character Quinton who's a miserable young chap. He's a brilliant lad who's followed the path to super-smartdom. On his way there, he realizes he's just waiting for something bigger and better to fall in his lap, but since he knows it won't happen, he's settling for being super-smart and getting into an Ivy League school. We find he loves a children's fantasy series of books called "Fillory and Further" and wishes for that magical life. "Fillory and Further" is also a very hefty nod to Mr. Lewis' "Chronicles of Narnia." Grossman summarizes the plots of the five books, and it's so Narnian. In a good way.

He obtains a certain document (which becomes important later), but a piece of it blows off. He follows it into a dying, winter garden. Then, all of a sudden it's summer out. There's a large field in front of him leading to a giant mansion. A guy is about to smoke a cigarette and Quinton's thought's are "Whaaa?"

The smoker, Eliot, takes Quinton up to the mansion and he finds out that he's just in time for the entrance exam.

And of course, he makes it in.

To Quinton's amusement, magic is real, but only the smartest of the smart can learn it. He feels he's finally found where he belongs. He finds a new set of friends. They practice magic together. It's a fast ride through his 5 years at Brakebills (the school) and throughout Quinton continues to be a moody character. Really, he's kind of unlikable. Not to the point where you have to stop reading the book. He grows on you. And then you just want to slap the S.O.B.

Most of the people in the book are actually a bit detestable. We find that magic isn't this amazing thing, but a horrible weight to bare. It can break you.

Toward the last 100 pages of the novel, we actually come to find out that the Narnian-ish world of Fillory is real. And the characters go there. And you know what else travels with them? All of their baggage.

The book has it's fair share of drinking, with some relational-situations (if you know what I mean) thrown in, so it's definitely an adult novel. Would I call it adult Harry Potter? Not so much. It's dark, not Cormac McCarthy dark, but still fairly dark. And it deals with a lot of emotional situations that make sense more to adults than they would to teenagers and kids. Whereas the reader kind of got to watch Harry grow, we're dealing with adults from the get-go here.

The main theme, it seemed, was dealing with your choices. Where can your good choices lead you? And even if you've made a good choice, how are you going to respond to it? Will you be entirely happy? Or are you going to constantly wish to see both sides of the coin? And of course it showcases the consequences of bad choices.

The only thing I wish Grossman did, although at the same time, I'm kind of glad he didn't, was build more on his mythology. He has created his own rules to this fantasy world and although he doesn't bore you with too many details, a little bit more of that mythology would've been nice. Not out-right explanations, but something...a little more history, maybe?

I'm sure we're going to be getting it because a sequel comes out later this year called "The Magician King."

And if you know me, I love a good series...

MBoP | Vlog, Episode 4

2011-06-28T14:10:00.001-04:00

While sitting at the Noble Coffee and Tea Co. in Noblesville, I discovered why you shouldn't fall asleep in public. The reason starts and ends with me.

And here is the dramatic conversation with a friend on Facebook about the event:

They were supposed to be cookies

2011-06-27T22:33:00.001-04:00

I’ve been craving some baking lately. Watching Ina Garten and her Barefoot Contessa ways, I watched as she made Brownie Pudding, which was just under-cooked brownies. Something exploded within me. I had to make those brownies.

But I was short a stick of butter.

(Real butter. We live fearless in our house)

Game over. I would have to bake up some brownie pudding another day (like, later this week).

It was a listless Monday for me, as they will all be until August 1, and so as I stewed in my restlessness (even after being productive with things around the house), I decided I would bake regardless. I have enough ingredients to make something.

I decided on oatmeal scotchies.

First, I realized that I was low on oats. I threw in some steal-cut oats, but after the fact, I decided to read the directions and, of course, I should’ve cooked the steal-cut oats in water.

Once that happened, I threw those out and cooked a half-cup of the steal-cut oats.

All the dry and wet ingredients were already in the mixer, but when I poured the steal-cut oats in the mix, it made the batter real wet.

I added a little more flour, but I knew I wasn’t going to get cookies out of that batter. I got out the 9x13 pan and decided to call them blondies. They had the egg and vegetable oil in them, much like a brownie mix does, and I figured they’d stiffen. Less like a cookie, more like a blondie.

As it baked, I was happy with my decision. Then, I realized it was rising a little too much.

Never in my long baking life has a recipe gone from cookies, to blondies, to cake.

But as a friend said, at least it wasn’t burnt.

Storm damage…

2011-06-26T23:07:00.001-04:00

Just kidding!

I wanted to go to Embassytown, but I wasn’t smart enough

2011-06-24T12:43:00.001-04:00

I’m no dummy, but the other night, I sure felt like one.

I went off to the library and picked up a book by an author that I wanted to get to know: China Mieville. His novels take place, mostly it seems, in London, but they’re an interesting twist of science fiction and fantasy in a very different sense.

His latest novel, Embassytown, which came out this year, sounded like something I could get into – or so I thought. It’s premise is a bit difficult to describe, but it’s about a girl who becomes a living simile (yes, that simile, the comparison of two things using like or as) in the language of the Hosts, which are the original inhabitants of this alien planet. These Hosts speak a complicated language and cannot tell lies. The only humans that can speak this language are the so-called Ambassadors. The book is about a new Ambassador that has come to Embassytown and apparently he turns things upside-down.

Out of the many books I got from the library, I picked it first because it’s a 14-day book. Those books aren’t normally renewable.

As I snuggled up with the first 26 pages, I had no clue what was going on. I read all these words and I could visualize some of it, but the whole? I was clueless. What is happening? What is going on? What’s immer? What’s an immerser? How can someone be a living simile? Why don’t I understand anything?

I dozed off reading it, and then picked it back up. Then I gave up. I just finished a frustrating book called “Swamplandia!” and I didn’t want to be frustrated again. Not yet.

And then I started reading reviews. I didn’t care about spoilers. I just wanted to know how this book got 4 and 5 stars. It’s not that I disbelieved it. I just wanted to see what I was missing. I realized, I wasn’t alone in my confusion with the first 26 pages.

I read further to find out that was the point!

(And with this, I realize China’s genius and creativity…which makes me want to read him even more.)

He wanted the reader to deal with the linguistics and culture shock one would feel jumping into this new world. That’s exactly what I was feeling! After about 100 pages, I think the reader finally is let in a bit, but China doesn’t just spoon feed it to you. You have to work for this book. And the reviewers loved that. I want to love that, too.

But I felt instantly dumb.

Because of all of this, I am determined to read that book. I want to challenge myself, but not right now.

(Isn’t that how it goes? I will conquer the world, but I will do it tomorrow.)

Wee! Bookmarks!

2011-06-24T11:35:00.001-04:00

I’m a Google Chrome Fanatic. I live and die by Google Chrome. Explorer, Safari, nor Firefox allows you to download and play Angry Birds, but that’s not the only reason I praise Chrome to the highest heavens.

I’m also a Google Fiend. I love Google.

No, Luurve it.

La-ha-ha-ha-urrvvve it.

So, of course I will support Google by using it’s browser. Really, though, it does the most, in my opinion. But recently I’ve discovered an archaic Internet feature that all web browsers feature that I have always scoffed at. I’m not a fan of clutter. My computer is the one true place that I can keep clutter-free. I feel that way about my desktop. It is squeaky-clean. I do not have any links or shortcuts on the desktop, nor do I keep files that I need to access. I just have the recycling bin. I’m a computer minimalist.

But I do most of my “work” on the web, since everything is in the “cloud” these days. Back to the archaic Internet tool that I was speaking of… I never used it before because it was a way of cluttering my browser, and although you couldn’t see the bookmarks, I never wanted to use them. So, I set up a Delicious account, which was then moved to Google Bookmarks (see above). I figured I could access (from anywhere) all the bookmarks I may want.

I realized lately that bookmarks on the web browser can be super-dee-duper. Plus, they look kind of pretty on the Chrome browser:

And that’s what I wanted to write about because I had nothing interesting to say, but wanted to write anyways.

MBoP | Vlog, Episode 3

2011-06-21T13:51:00.000-04:00

I make sock puppets for my dearly beloved. She uses them with the kids she counsels. This is what happens when I get a hold of one of the puppets and no one is looking...

Blondes have more fun, but red heads need more anesthesia

2011-06-20T19:38:00.000-04:00

While waiting for my red-headed sister-in-law to have additional surgery because of her appendix, I just learned that her kind of people need more anesthesia.

The anesthesiologist said this and I wanted to be all, "Ha ha, because red heads are always the butt of a good joke about their temper since they're hot-headed and all that..."

My sister-in-law is a science genius and agreed, saying, "Yeah, I've heard that." The anesthesiologist was serious and I could tell just by looking at him that he had his serious face on. I know when you put on a serious face and mean it.

Like, when your parents see you doing something you shouldn't be and they strain their faces (after they have, apparently, told you a million times to stop it already) and say, "This time I mean it!"

That's the face the doctor had on. This time he meant it.

So, because I'm in the waiting room and because I just-so-happen to have my laptop with me and because hospitals come equipped with free wi-fi, I decided to kick my legs up into Indian-style and do some research.

Well, okay, I did a Google search, and found an article from the New York Times. Although I could reiterate all the different reasons it is so, I don't understand half of what I read. Something about melanin. And something else about red heads and their inability to handle Novocain at the dentist. And a gene mutation.

So, if you're red headed and fear the dentist, you're not alone. This is common. It's not that your dentist likes to make you squirm or that they like to watch you suffer (dentists do have souls), it's because red heads need just a tad bit more Novocain or anesthesia than anyone else.

That and you burn faster in the sun because of your fair skin.

"Swamplandia!" by Karen Russell (Boo!)

2011-06-17T20:36:00.000-04:00

Do you want to read a book that makes you want to chuck it across the room? Then, read this. And as you're reading, you'll hear a loud noise: the sound of a train wrecking.

I don't think I've ever read a book that I disliked so much as a whole, but loved the language. For the most part. I had to force myself to finish it.

Reading the book was like drinking barium sulfate before an upper-GI exam. It's a thick, horrible concoction you must drink in order for the doctor to see your stomach during a CT scan.

Karen Russell, author of "Swamplandia!", used gorgeous language and words that I didn't even know. I felt sheepish. What I did I learn from this book? Get a notebook and write down hundred-dollar-words in it. Then use them. And sound...adept.

What I didn't enjoy? Everything else.

Reading the plot synopsis made this book sound like it had a "magical realism" spin to it. That's why I wanted to pick it up. I thought alligators talked and a girl went on a mystified, but grounded, journey in the swamp lands of Florida to search for her sister. Doesn't that sound good to you? Me, too.

Too bad I was way off.

We learn about the Bigtree family. This family owns and operates Swamplandia!, an alligator theme park. The story is mainly told from the first person perspective of Ava Bigtree, a 10-year-old girl who is following in her mother's footsteps in becoming an alligator wrestler.

Sadly, though, her mother has died of cancer. And, on the mainland of Florida, The World of Darkness (this Leviathan of a theme park) has opened and the absent mother and new theme park all but kill Swamplandia!.

The story isn't necessarily about Swamplandia! but the family and how they try to overcome the heaviness that is their lives. But, while we're learning about the lives, we also learn a lot about the swamp lands of Florida. Some of the history is magnificent, but most of the times it weighs down the story. And Russell keeps...on...going. There are quite a few parts in the book I skimmed. It was like she was saying, "Look, I did all this research and I'm not quite sure what to do with it, so I'm going to stuff it in here. Look how much research I did! LOOK, I DID RESEARCH! RESEARCH!"

Ava's mainly a positive little character (until something horrible happens to her toward the end of the book, go figure). We learn about her sister, whose name is all bizarre, nor can I remember it right now -- oh wait -- Ossie. She finds a book about being a "spiritist" and goes on dates with ghosts, or so she says. She just gets weirder and weirder, but not in a a magical realism kind of way like I thought the book was going to be. She got weird in a sad, mental health kind of way. The type that needs a psychiatrist and medicine.

The brightest of the family is Kiwi (I know, right?) and he gets angry and leaves the island to find work to help make money for the Bigtrees. This doesn't happen well because in order to work at The World of Darkness (yes, he goes to work at his nemesis), the Walmart of horrible theme parks, he pays rent there and has a meal card and that takes up more money than he can save. He winds up meeting a bunch of social losers he calls friends. We read about his annoying adventures.

And then?

We switched back and forth between Ava, written in first person, as she searches for her sister, Ossie, who's up and left with her ghost finace, and Kiwi, written in third person, as he stumbles through life on the "main land."

A friend of mine said she felt that Russell lost her way while writing this book. I agree. I think Russell got lost and drowned in the Florida swamps and dragged the reader down with her.

It's going to take a lot of spit... (Or, "I use a lot of dead body metaphors when I talk about writing")

2011-06-15T23:01:00.001-04:00

I started reading my first draft of the book today. My goal is to read the whole thing before I dig into draft two. I know that there's so much I have forgotten, that I need the brain refresh. I knew that it wasn't going to be easy adding, cutting, changing and rewriting, but what I've read so far is tangled mess.

One pitfall I noticed was how the main character supposedly has a turbulent relationship in the first part of the book...and it's not exactly how I remember it. Reading it all through for the first time, I find that it's barely tepid. So, as the first part of the book ended, I was like, "really? I could've sworn there was more."

Apparently, I'm wrong. I think I need to go back and add, add, add.

I knew there was going to be holes in the story, but these are craters. Gaping craters. I almost couldn't crawl out of one of them. It's going to take a lot to fill in the rest. This I don't mind. I'm actually kind of excited, because now that the skeleton's laid out on the table, I get to be like Dr. Brennan from "Bones" and figure out how it died...

Wait. No...

Eeesh. That's how it feels right now, though.

I am excited, though. But, the reason for such a messy first draft was my "writing and no editing policy" I adopted.

The goal, even though it took me a while to get here, was to write, write, write, no editing allowed; plow through and (as they say) get it all out. I've read writing books and articles that say, "You can go back and edit later." I liked this mindframe and felt that it suited me. During the process of writing my first book, I edited so much that it lost steam. I would write and rewrite the first parts of the story so much that I neglected pushing the story forward. It died a slow and painful death, and finishing it felt more likesticking it in a coffin and burying it. I may exhume the remains someday, but first? My current project (it's alive and kicking)!

For me, the hardest part is finding the discipline to just write the bones of the story down. Since I'm happy with where it's going, now I get to flesh it out (as they say). Since I haven't done this part of the process before, I don't know how difficult it will be. I just know that even when I think I'm finished, I'll need to go back some more and keep writing and rewriting. More spit, more polish.

But before all that, here's a small example of the mess that spans before me:

One of the characters in the book is named Jennifer. Luckily, as of late, that is how I have remembered it; if she was mentioned in the latter part of the book, she was Jennifer. Sadly, that's not the case in the middle. Somewhere in the middle, Jennifer became Cassie.

Huh?

How on earth did a she become a Cassie?

This is going to be harder than I thought.

MBoP: Posters

2011-06-14T23:36:00.000-04:00

If there were digital street corners or digital billboards on the information superhighway, I would make sure these would be posted all over the place. I've been playing around with what I would like a poster to look like, although below it mentions the Appendix and how it will never be removed...

Oops. I kind of performed an appendectomy, anyways. The Appendix has has become the main website, and I couldn't be happier.

Check out the posters below.

The Best of Antiquing, Part II

2011-06-13T00:30:00.001-04:00

Before you start shopping, you need to eat at Big Hoffa's barbecue restaurant. It's decked out in pirate garb.

One of the items was this creepy doll stroller...

...because it was owned by DeBey. AAAAAHHH!

I am quite the fan of Coke. I should have this in my classroom. I'd put creepy dolls on it.

Who's flying the spaceship? Jack, Jim or Evan?

"I will kill you in your sleep."

These were my size. If I could be a part of the Naptown Rollers, these would be my skates, but they were hea-vey.

My mom has two of these dogs. Same color -- black. But I think someone already owns the frame.

"I own the frame."
AAAAAAAHHHHH!

"Hi, I'm Horace."

"Hi, I'm Carlotta."

"I'm Pippi!"

Don't trust the cookies in the Cheshire Cat cookie jar.

No comment.

This one's certain no one heard it pass gas.

Another photo of my love for colorful Pyrex set-ups.

Do you need a grassy P?

"Forever Eden" by Barbara Bennett

2011-06-12T23:35:00.003-04:00

It's what you've all been waiting for...

(All 5 of you)

My review of "Forever Eden," #15 of the inspirational romance series "Serenade Sonata."

Let's visit some of the other titles before we venture into my thoughts on "Forever Eden." Who wouldn't want to read such literary gems like "On the Wings of Love," or "Love's Sweet Promise," or "Karaleen," or "Tender Adversary."

I'm surprised there isn't a title called "Love's Loving Love." Maybe I'll write that one. My pseudonym will be something like Cindy Simmons or Cheryl Goodblood, or even Linda Thyme. I'll start a Twitter account and everything...and you can follow me @cherylgoodblood, no wait! Follow me @inspirationalgoddess. YES. That's. It.

This book was a joke, obviously. The only romances I read are horror-romances, if I even touch the darned things. They're all the same: The hero/heroine meets a suitor/suitress and finds himself/herself pining for this suitor/suitress. But, he/she cannot have the suitor/suitress for some reason, be it a personal inner reason (like a solid belief system) or because the suitor/suitress is ever-eluding. They go back and forth, back and forth in the proverbial tug-of-war, and then, finally, someone changes and the two fall into love's embrace (and if it's not an inspirational novel, a little bit more, which is always horribly uncomfortable to read).

I ended up with this book because apparently I was making jokes about "Christian romances" at some point in my life. Of course, while cleaning out a room at our church, there was a pile of them...and Steph chose "Forever Eden" to bring home me. It was not because they knew I wanted to read it. It was just supposed to be funny. But, then I read it, and that, in itself, is kind of funny.

Shall I get on with the plot? Cassandra Wellsley is a beautiful missionary. This former model (oh, what a cross to bare) is located in the jungle of the Philippines. A foresting industry wants to cut down the trees on the land she works, administering medicines and teaching the Filipinos reading and about Christianity. Then, down the path walks Adam Ralston (a representative of the company. His goal? To persuade Cassandra and the natives to be on board) and oh, is he a mystery. And older. We find he was married. Is he divorced? Later on, we learn he left his hospital residency while finishing up his M.D. degree. He begins to love Cassandra, but can he love her God? He used to, but he can't go back to that lifestyle...no he can't! (Dramatically turn your head away from me)

There's health perils and jealousy and then Adam delivers a tribe member's baby (dramatically put your hand to your forehead)...but Cassandra, regardless of how amazing Adam is, cannot step into his love. (Again, dramatically turn your head away from me, but this time shout-whisper, "no!")

Obviously it all turns out in the end, after Cassandra denies Adam's love about a-bajillion times. And then a kajillion more times. And then they have a wet kiss. But, then she turns away and denies him again crying tears of loss from her big, blue doe eyes. Then, Adam proposes...but Cassandra says, "no," but she's OK with it. Really. Stop asking. We had a long talk about it and she's ready to move on. She's fine. Well, maybe a little regret.

I know! Right? That's what I thought!

But, randomly, as Cassandra begins to pull on her big girl pants, guess who comes back? ADAM! (Dramatically raise your firsts to the sky and shout-whisper "Adam!") He never gave up. He decided to take his medical knowledge and become a medical missionary and that's when Cassandra is finally happy.

But, Adam makes her propose to him.

Take that Cassandra Wellsley, or should we call you Cassandra Ralston, now?

I just can't wait for others to read it with me so we can make jokes about it. So, will you join me in "The Forever Eden Project?"

Nigella Thursday 6.9.11

2011-06-09T22:31:00.001-04:00

Since I have more time on my hands (a lot more), it was due time to bring back Nigella Thursdays! For my first Thursday back in the cooking saddle, the recipe I picked wasn't exactly difficult. The hardest part was prepping the chicken. To save a few dollar bills, we purchased thighs with the skin and bone still intact. Butchering the skin and fat off the chicken was the most taxing part of tonight's cooking.

That I even cut off the skin from the chicken is an amazing feat. Chicken freaks me out. Read why.

With a mixture of different house hold items (seen above), I commingled the ingredients and poured the browny liquid over the chicken and allowed them to bathe for a few hours in the fridge.

400 degrees and 45 minutes later, dinner was served.

First Draft. Check.

2011-06-08T12:16:00.001-04:00

Sitting at a coffee house yesterday, which was really warm, actually, so it's a good thing I had an iced coffee, I wasn't expecting what happened.

Arnold Schwar--

I'm kidding.

Even if he was hiding out in Noblesville, Ind., everyone would be throwing rotten fruit and vegetables at him. He would've gotten a face-full of iced coffee from me.

It would've played out like a soap opera on Telemundo.

No, that's not the unexpected that happened. No famous person walked into the Noble Tea and Coffee Company while I sat, consumed by my writing process and clicking away at my laptop. Ferociously, I might add. I was nervously excited while I wrote yesterday. And you do want to know why?

First, lets take a mind-trip back in time: Before starting out on this most recent summer break, my main goal -- other than being a phenomenal housefrau -- was to finish my book. I knew it was getting close and I wasn't sure how long it was going to take, but my goal was to hunker down and finish it so I could begin the next step with it.

I didn't realize I was going to meet my goal the first week in: Sitting at the coffee house, I was writing the tale-end of my book. I knew it was coming, and I was getting excited because the writing process has been high energy lately. But I thought it was going to be later. So yesterday, as I was stringing together the few different scenes and ideas, I realized I was actually setting the stone work for the final scenes that have been inside my mind for so long.

I have known how I was going to end the story before I even started writing it. I've been seeing it play out in my head over and over again. But to finally get to the end and write it? Of course I was shaking. It was like I had visions of the future and I was seeing it come to fruition.

I couldn't type fast enough.

So, without trying, I sat there for about two and a half hours finishing the first draft. Steph was at work and I was waiting for her to call and tell me she was done, but I kept looking at the phone saying, "Not yet! Don't be done, yet!"

After I left the coffee house, I was on a high for about an hour after -- then reality hit me. It's only the first draft and there are some major issues with it that I'm going to need to sort out.

Here's the embarrassing part: After about three years of writing this, I have forgotten characters names and some important scenes and some characters even started to "write themselves out" as I realized they were no longer important to the plot. Then I came to the realization that I wasn't writing an adult novel, but a young adult novel. I noticed that about half way through. Oops.

There's a part at the beginning of the story that's not exactly the right fit for a young adult novel.

And, no, it's not a sex scene!

So, there's that, too.

Before I stick my hands inside this mud pie that I've created, I've decided that I should probably just read the whole thing before I do anything else to it. With the help of technology, I created a simple cover, formatted it and placed it on my Nook.

So, if writing it wasn't hard enough at times...I think I'm about to begin a journey that's a bit more gruesome than getting all the ideas out on paper. Now, it's time to spit and polish.

And I've got a feeling it's going to take a lot of spit.

"The Graveyard Book" by Neil Gaiman

2011-06-06T21:45:00.000-04:00

I've had many-a-tour with Mr. Gaiman, but I think the Newbery-winning "The Graveyard Book" may be my favorite.

What do I remember most about this Newbery-Award-winning author? The Twitter message he posted when he found out he won the honor. It was loaded with F*Bombs. That's exactly the word I would use if I won an award for children's literature, right? I would just explode with them all over social media.

Eh, most kids who love a good Newbery Medal book probably don't use Twitter, so I'm sure the scores of children all over the world that got to enjoy "The Graveyard Book" were safe from the author's ironic acceptance speech.

You can't hold it against the man, though. He was just excited. And he had a right to be. "The Graveyard Book" was a delicious blend of macabre and childhood without being wistfully gray and sad.

I mean, this is a book about a boy raised by ghosts...

The opening pages were some of the most almost-gruesome I would expect for a Newbery book. They instantly got me interested by hinting at horrible violence without actually describing the scenes of blood and murder. A total shoe-in for grabbing my attention. I love when things are inferred and not in-your-face described. It makes any suspense more suspensful and any horror more horrible. Too bad producers and directors don't take advantage of all of that.

The plot begins with an innocent family slain by a man named Jack, but one of his to-be victims escapes. The to-be victim finds himself at the mercy of a local graveyard (which is in a very, very old part of London). The ghosts of the deceased find the boy and hide him from the dark and mysterious murderer. After a meeting has been held, the cemetery folk decide that it is in their best interest to raise the boy. A boy raised by ghosts? Perfectly perfect.

The premise of the book was delightful and instead of being super-gloomy (which Gaiman is able to avoid in his other stories as well), it's a great coming-of-age tale with a nice supernatural twist. The ghosts name the boy Nobody, Bod for short (he was just a babe when he wandered to the graveyard), and the chapters are all about him growing up in the cemetery. He has his adventures. He learns his lessons. There are some ghouls involved. He has some neat abilities granted to him by the power of the cemetery, like "fading" and other abnormal abilities we all wished we had. He meets a young girl one day and they become good friends, but she stops coming to the cemetery for some reason...and then we meet up with her again when she's a teenager. And that's when that scary murderer Jack comes back.

Of course the murderer comes back. Do you think he was satisfied that he missed one of his to-be victims?

It all ties together in the end nicely, but I also enjoy how Gaiman leaves some questions unanswered. There's this larger, more supernatural world around Bod and the plot, but Gaiman decides to just touch on it without going into too much detail, and instead of confusing the reader, it works. Knowing an author like Gaiman, it's probably this entire mythology he's created that sits inside his head, but also surrounds some of the other books he's written. The true gift of a fantastical mind.

I am currently working on that for myself.

The "Forever Eden" Project

2011-06-01T15:14:00.007-04:00

I should be working on my own novel right now, but I'm going to post-pone any structured writing time to introduce a new summer project of mine. As of now, I'm calling it "The Forever Eden Project." While cleaning out a storage room at our church, which I was not a part of, this book was chosen out of many different "inspirational romance" novels and given to me. When I first saw it, I chuckled because apparently I had a conversation about Christian romance novels with some friends (which I don't remember, but this is not unusual as I do not often remember half the things I say -- and the worst part is, they're usually funny).

I didn't plan on doing anything with it, but I threw it in my bag and carried it with me on Memorial Day. I'm glad I did because that same evening Steph had to go to Walmart. I stayed in the car since we had the Girls in the car with us. So, while she shopped, I read.

It took me all of four hours to read the 182 page book. It would probably take some of you no time to read it. I'm just a slow reader.

Now that I've read it (review to come later), I don't want to be alone with this fantabulous story. As a writer and a reader, my job is to instill the love of reading and writing to all. It is going to be my job, nay, my duty to make sure "Forever Eden" is read by as many people as I can get. Sadly, Steph has opted out. She doesn't often fall in love with the terrible things that I do.

But "Forever Eden" isn't terrible. It is the opposite.

It is a lovely tale about a missionary...no, a gorgeous missionary (it his her cross to bare, sadly). This former-model-gone-missionary, Cassandra, is about to meet her match with Adam, a man who works with a logging company that wants the land where she works with the Fillipino natives.

Join me as we all embark on...

MBoP | Vlog, Episode 2

2011-06-01T13:47:00.000-04:00

This is what it's like to live with Nigra during her pursuit of the mailman.

Yearbook Distribution 2011

2011-05-31T21:22:00.000-04:00

I think this might have been one of the calmest yearbook distributions ever. I had all the books laid out, people came and got them. My eye didn't twitch.

In the past, eighth graders would go to Great Times the week before school was out and when they got back, they got yearbooks and they spent the rest of the day signing them. This year, we decided to hand them out the day before the last day of school, hoping that would cut down on the trouble (like drawing genitalia in the book, or writing "I just signed your crack" or having a student just go all Sharpie on another kid's book...to the point where that kid needs a new book).

I always get nervous when I pop open the book. Even though I've never had this happen, I envision the F-word emblazoned on the pages somewhere, something I missed while editing. Then, I calm down and get over it, and then I start to hyperventilate because the principals get a copy.

My nightmares of F-bombs start to dance again...and not only F-bombs, but an inappropriate pictures of kids showing off their middle fingers to the camera (knock on wood that I have yet to come across one of those).

I know those pictures and words aren't there. I just wonder if other yearbook advisers fret like I do.

I'm happy to say that our yearbook looks better than Fishers High School's yearbook. I looked at theirs today. It is just saaaad.

A good writing day is hard to find

2011-05-22T10:49:00.000-04:00

A good writing day is a strange high. You're buzzing as your fingers cascade across the keys typing out the words (whose origins are unclear, this whole writing thing has always baffled me). The plot continues to explode with different avenues down the street I go, and although I have a clear beginning, middle and end in my head, I'm constantly surprised from the middle-parts that keep sprouting.

I want to keep going, but I need to end on a high note. A place I can begin again with high energy. The sad part is, as great as I feel and as happy as I am with the 3,614 words I wrote today, I don't get to share it with anyone. Not yet, at least. In the past, longer pieces have been shared with people as I write them. I decided to be an enigma with this one. Let's just hope when I hand it out to a few people to be my first victims, they won't look at me with disgusted eyes and say, "really? Three to four years and this is what you did?"

I do not want the hairy eyeball.

Why I like Cecil B. DeMile's "The Ten Commandments"

2011-04-23T11:41:00.001-04:00

Every Easter, Cecil B. DeMille's "The Ten Commandments" airs for 10 hours straight, interrupted every three seconds by commercials.

Oh, "Ten Commandments" how I love thee.

The movie is saturated with a melodrama that modern movies lack. There is no visceral realism. It is campy. I wish all modern drama movies were like this. I would probably watch more of the Oscar-nominated films if they were all like this. Especially "Black Swan."

Actually, it's more like:

And you can't forget the fierceness of Yul Brynner:

And then, the shepherd woman that brings Moses down off his mountain:

With the Oscar for best special effects in 1956 (I can't believe they even had an award for special effects when my parents were 5)...

...this movie doesn't fail to deliver.

"The Passage" by Justin Cronin

2011-04-20T19:03:00.001-04:00

I didn't know anything about this book. All I remember reading about it is that it was kind of like a weird spin on the vampire novel, but not really. Then, after that, mum was the word. Except for the buzz the book received.

OK. So, it sort of has vampires in it, and people like it? Well, of course I'm in. Not because vampires are the trend. Please. I've been reading vampire stories and loving on the silent film "Nosferatu" since I was a baby. Stephenie Meyer and her romance-kinky-vampire-garbage can kiss it. You too, "True Blood."

Kiss. It.

I'm not sure why I waited until NOW to read it, since it's been out a year. I could've easily gone to my library and picked it up. Ahh, yes, but you see, the library can charge you if you forget to return the book. And for some reason, I'm that person. Always a fine. I keep the library in business.

I think I decided to read it now because of my Nook. My library allows eBook downloads and the Nook is library book compatible, and since I saw that was one of the books I really wanted to read (insert drool here), I made sure that was the first one. Plus, no fine.

That's fine with me.

Now, please realize I have never physically seen this book. I've seen the pretty digital cover. I read the tag line how "It took 32 minutes for one world to die, another to be born" and went gaga (not like Lady, thank you. I don't wear meat dresses).

After the download, I looked at the bottom of the screen and saw that I had 829 pages to go. Since there are no pages to turn, I need to translate my book reading, now, into clicks. Since each click forward is about 1/2 a page, the book was really 1,659 clicks long.

What? But. But. But. That's sooo long! I'll get carpel thumb-el!

And then I plowed through the first 250 pages, screaming all the way. The first 250 pages (as you might read on any other amateur review) were some of the scariest fiction I have ever read. I'm sorry Stephen King. They totally were. I mean, you're stuff is always engrossing, and you know I'm a fan for life, but this Justin Cronin knows what he is doing.

Like, I almost had night terrors. Just like when I found out Donald Trump entered the rumor mill about running for president.

We find out that the government finds a strain of virus that they realize could create a superhuman soldier. They find 12 inmates on death row and give them a choice - die by lethal injection (or...um...live forever as a blood-thirsty, virus-infected monster...pick me! PICK ME!), and since this is apocalyptic literature, of course this isn't going to end well, not when we have "32 minutes to end this world" and start a new one. The inmates become these other-worldly creatures, very humanoid, but they approximate nothing of their previous existence. They also like to feast on blood. That's the only vampirc similarity. And they have a bio-luminescence.

Such a cool word.

As we lead up to the end of the world as we know it, I began to fall in love with the characters. The FBI agent who is in charge of gathering the inmates is then sent to find a little girl who (suddenly) has no family. It's time to inject this little girl with the virus, too. And the bond this FBI agent (who has lost a daughter, we find, in flashbacks) forges with the little girl is believable and heart-warming. The 12 inmates get out, but the little girl and the FBI agent escape and find refuge for many months in a cabin in the mountains, making-do. There are some other characters and important things from the first 1/3 of the book, too, but since I don't want this post to be 1,658 clicks long, I'll keep it short.

Once I got through the first 250 pages, catching my breath, I come to find that there is war happening all around their mountain top, and the last few scenes are of a nuclear bomb going off and the FBI agent dying from, not the crazy virus-monsters, but infection from glass that got embedded in his leg. Or, so we think...and then after a few random parts, we're catapulted 100 years into the future.

Whhaaa?

We get some weird journal entries in Part II or Part III. A weird slideshow about stuff, like it's part of a conference that was talking about what life was like. And then, we arrive in California, with an entire colony of new characters. Literally. From pages 300+, we are to learn about all these survivors in the future, how this horrible new world is the only world they have ever known. It's like we're reading this entirely new novel, but not really, because we know something they don't: how it started.

I totally wanted to go in to the book and be like, "OK people, this is how it happened. Bear with me."

There are people out there comparing it to "The Road" by Cormac McCarthy, which I might agree with. But, whereas "The Road" is so gray in description and despairing with almost no hope, "The Passage" is luminous with it's descriptions of the West with hope just around the bend. And of course, it was compared to the other apocalyptic whopper "The Stand." While there are similarities, it really reminded me of AMC's "The Walking Dead." I have not read the comics/graphic novels, but I fell in love with the zombie TV show.

We're on a journey in this book. The characters begin to look for hope. There's some fun supernatural stuff. There's also good relationships and believable accounts of being human. Then, the story just kind of...ends.

I was pleased with the ending because using my powers of assumption, I figured what would happen next. Then I stumbled upon news that "The Passage" is actually the first book in, probably, a trilogy.

Good grief.

I wonder if the other books will be 800+ pages. I wouldn't mind. My carpel tunnel wasn't aggravated since I was reading it on my Nook and I could read it with one hand, instead of five.

I look forward to "The Twelve" that is supposedly out in 2012. Just in time for the Mayan calendar to end...

Do the Bernie!

2011-04-16T11:32:00.000-04:00

I have no shame when it comes to teaching. Teaching middle school allows me to act like a middle schooler (sometimes) (okay, fine...all the time...). In my defense, by acting crazy and not giving a damn, I'm teaching them that they need to be comfortable in their own skin and not care what people think. My goal is to model not caring what people think.

I also don't care what my students think. If they think I'm a total spaz, that's fine. Luckily, it has helped more than hurt.

My most recent outbreak is a new dance a seventh grader taught me.

"Have you heard of the Bearnie?" she asked.

"No, what's that?" I asked.

She got up and performed it for me.

Which was inspired by...

So now, every second period, the Bernie is performed.

And yes, they will perform better on ISTEP+ because of this.

A chance to catch up on some great VHS's during a stay in a cabin between Gatlinburg and Pigeon Forge

2011-04-08T11:59:00.001-04:00

Who doesn't love the scene when President Harrison Ford tells the terrorist (Gary Oldman) to "get off my plane." It was more thrilling to drive through tornado warnings in the mountains because that's realistic. A president kicking some serious butt? I'm not so sure.

I can't remember when the bad guy got the icicle shoved in the eye socket. Was it this one? Or was it "Die Hard 2"? All I know is that 40 stories of sheer adventure wasn't quite enough, not with "Die Hard with a Vengeance" and "Live Free or Die Hard" out there.

Warren Beatty looks like Michael Landon in this...and every time I see this movie jacket I think, "Did they actually turn 'Highway to Heaven' into a movie? Because the last time I checked, it was just a TV show...right?" Then I read the premise and it sounds stupid. I would rather watch "Shampoo."

I remember going to a place to rent movies when I was little. The movies came in these giant brown cases. For some reason, I remember seeing this one. I've never been interested in seeing it.

I remember seeing "Lethal Weapon 3" in the theater. It was the day that I was in a moonwalk and as I bounced and landed on my back, a kid's heel hit me in the mouth and I the bottom row of my teeth. I remember going to my parents with a handful of teeth pieces. Later that night, we went to the movies. In the theater, my teeth were so sensitive that I couldn't even eat the popcorn. It felt like I was squishing pain-inducing Styrofoam in my mouth.

No comment.

I wonder when she posed for this movie jacket if Sally Field thought, "I hope that when I get older, I suffer from bone loss and get to become the spokesperson for a product called Boniva."

What did ever happen to Wesley SnipesWesley Snipes?

I really hope they didn't pay $30 for this movie...

Look, I've got a Nook

2011-04-02T11:55:00.001-04:00

I totally caved. In the back of my head, where the practical one can sometimes live (although, I think he's often on vacation, because, really, I live in a perpetual state of illogical) the need for the Nook wasn't exactly there. I told myself over and over, not trying to convince myself (because I really did believe this) "Why bother with a device when I can just pick up the book?"

It's the thinking man's iPad, right? And I don't have any purpose for the iPad in my life, either. Not really. Albeit they are neat, I won't drop $500 for one.

(OK, you can disagree about the "thinking man's iPad" because the thinking man can take over the world on an iPad, whereas eReaders are a bit limited in their abilities...)

Two people I know have Kindles, and I've never gotten to meet one in person. So, when I introduced myself, and played around with theirs, I got to see them in action. The screen, how it looks like the printed page, is rather neat, but it still seemed clunky.

I still wasn't convinced. No sir. Not me.

Then, I started looking at my bookshelf and as I tried to pick something I wanted to read, I was less and less interested in the books that I had bought from the cheap-o section of "Half Price Books." I have no space for them. Our bookshelves are about to implode, and I may never read some of them. It goes back to the constant fight against read-for-fun or read-to-write. Do I pick up the weirdo books that I like to read, or do I pick up something literary that will make me think and, supposedly, offer me some insights on writing in general.

I tried three different books one day, and none of them were what I wanted to read.

Our library offers free digital downloads of audio books and eBooks. I have downloaded quite a few books to listen to and as I perused the eBook section, they had quite a few recent reads that I wanted to consume. What I also like about the digital bookstore is...no fines.

You see. I'm a "finer." Constant. Whenever I check something out at the library, I will forget about it and it will always be returned late. Normally it's a DVD or CD, which cost the most in fines. Sometimes it's a book. I'm also the type of library-goer that can't just choose one thing. I have to pile up. I know I won't read all of those books. Usually, I don't even read one of them! And then I get lazy and I don't want to drive to the library (it's not that far) and return everything because (usually) at the moment it's not convenient.

It is not unusual for me to pay $15+ to clear my name.

So, the ability to go shopping for books or peruse digital library bookshelves became even more enticing. Also, being able to save some room on my bookshelves...and even getting the chance to download snippets started to appeal to me.

And so, the bug bit me. And hard. I started to research different digital readers. I looked at the Kindle. I looked at the Sony eReader. I looked at some reader called Kobo. Then, I looked at the Nook.

Although it wasn't the cheapest (I didn't want some silly no-namer with no support), it was also the one reader that fit me. I liked it the most because the Kindle can't get library books...at least, not simply. There's some contrived way of doing it and I was going to have none of that. Then I read that the Nook (Barnes and Nobles' eReader) not only downloaded wireless from its own bookstore, but I could also read library books on it and shop in the new Google eBookstore.

Yeah, you know how Borders is having some issues? My thought process was this: what if Barnes and Nobles did, too? As long as I have the Google eBookstore...right? I mean, Google is going to be around forever, isn't it?

*crickets*

So, I bought the Nook. And I am super-pleased with this purchase. I think it helps that I didn't buy it on a whim, that I actually took my time reading about it and thinking about it. It was an informed purchase. Those types, for me, don't happen often.

I got right to it and went to my digital library to download a book I've been wanting to read since it came out last year. The first book I ended up downloading was "The Passage" by Justin Cronin. I didn't realize that the book was over 800 pages. This made me a bit nervous because I only have 14 days for my ebooks from the library before they self-destruct.

Although I may not finish it in my 14 day span (I was able to check it out again, so I have it for another 2 weeks), the best part about reading it is that I don't have to deal with the clunkiness of such a giant book. Have you ever read a 800-to-1,000-page book? Sure they're intimidating, but they're also heavy. And not very ergonomic.

The Nook? Totally ergonomic. I get to have all the words without all the weight.

Wee!

With it's shell made of unicorn skin and a screen that doesn't reflect and show too much glare, it's great to read. It took some getting used to. The idea of reading an entire book on a machine was a bit weird at first. I felt like I was turning my back on The Book. But, it's not the physical aspect that brings you to read the book (unless it's some amazingly handcrafted book), it's the words.

I think one of my favorite benefits is having the dictionary at hand. A book like, "A Lion Among Men" by Gregory Maguire would be beneficial since it was chocked full of $1,000,000 words. I could/would use those words if I knew what they meant, but I wasn't going to sit with a dictionary as I read, so I used my context clues to figure them out. The dictionary on the device is rather nice.

The only thing it needs is a USB slot, so I could plug in a book light so I could read at night in some dark corner. Since it's purchase, I have gotten it protected by getting a silicon cover, a clear cover for the touch screen and a tweed case hand-sewn from Etsy. That, and the extended warranty.

Double Rainbow Spring Storm

2011-04-02T10:52:00.002-04:00

On a thrilling afternoon in March, the 24th to be exact, dark clouds decided to swarm over the state in what looked like a cataclysmic event. The sun was out on one side, while the dark brooding clouds were growing on the other. Later that night, we would find ourselves shoved inside Steph's closet with both of the Girls. I would notice that Raible panted so hard, a film of moisture would be all over the closet wall.

But before my dinner was interrupted by pitch black, high winds and lightning thrown from Zeus, I had the chance to see what few have seen before me:

The Double Rainbow.

Now, I didn't cry when I saw it, or completely lose my mind. But with my handy-dandy ~~notebook~~ camera phone I was able to capture it.

If you look to the right, you will see it faintly. I had to adjust the photo colors in order for you, my viewers, to see it clearly.

Half of the sky was sunny and bright while the other half looked like it was getting eaten by the clouds:

Luckily, on my way home, it was just spitting precipitation. And, luckily, no kiddie pools were blown across the road (last spring, on our way home from downtown, Steph and I were trying to beat a storm that was ravaging through Madison county, when a light blue kiddie pool was tossed across Martin Luther King Blvd. by the high winds).

Paper Plate Awards

2011-03-30T22:27:00.003-04:00

I think teachers are always thinking of ways to reward their students, especially to get them motivated, but it can be costly. Although they love candy, I can't help but think I'm handing out cavities and obesity. Just placing it right, square, in their hand.

"Here you go kiddie, rot your teeth. Feed those zits. Get lost of white heads."

Then the onslaught of allergies, especially peanut allergies, makes me feel bad. Some kids' allergies are so terrible they can't even be in the same room with Mr. Peanut (regardless of being voiced by Robert Downey Junior).

To get one of my classes motivated during a particularly boring day of note taking, recently, I tossed out animal crackers for all the right answers. I had the best participation, but then I felt bad for the girl with peanut allergies.

Then I panicked.

"Should I even be throwing these? What happens if you come in contact with them?"

I asked her and she just shrugged. "It's OK. I just can't eat them." She didn't seem to mind. I felt bad because she didn't get a little prize, but then I began to panic. Sure she said it was OK, but, then my fear of her peanut allergy exploded like the AIDS fears from the 80's. Can you die from your peanut allergy if someone is eating an animal cracker next to you? What if they breathe on you? Do we need to wear protection? Should you sit at a different table? What if Mr. Peanut sat on the toilet seat before you?

It says here on the back of the container how the animal crackers are made in a plant that processes tree nuts.

Although I will still probably use the animal crackers again (I'll just get something non-peanut-oriented for the kids with allergies), I do something else that everyone can come in contact with:

PAPER PLATE AWARDS!

Paper plates are inexpensive and I decorate them all pretty-like. Today, I was making them for my students that got perfects on their weekly editing exercise. (I don't have the kids find every error for the grade, because I feel that's just not fair. I'm using it as a tool, but the grade helps keep them focused and take the editing seriously. Last week's exercise had 8 errors total, but the kids only had to find 5 of them. For each additional error they find, they receive a half point. Last week's total was 6.5/5. I had about six kids out of my three classes that achieved that, so I made Paper Plate Awards for them:

Look closely. Something is amiss, isn't it? I wrote "extatic editor" because I think it's rather clever to make Paper Plate Awards have alliteration. Then I realized I misspelled ecstatic. Sure, I could just rewrite it, but it was almost 5 p.m. and I was also ready to go home. I know I teach language arts/journalism, but it's becoming quite apparent in my "old age" that I'm really not that great of a speller. I've really become reliant on spell check -- even Google's Chrome web browser has spell check. Without it, my own blog would be riddled with errors. In a brief moment of brilliance, however, I was able to go through each plate and make a clever correction.

The winners of the award will have no clue that I screwed up, and I won't let them know. Instead, they'll think I'm brilliant. "That's such a great idea, Mr. Williams. Bravo!"

I....am a chef

2011-03-25T17:44:00.000-04:00

I'm on a Nigella Thursday hiatus. I have only done 2 so far, and the idea is a good one and I will tackle it head-on during the summer (especially the really difficult recipes), but since track started, it's been difficult finding the energy to cook hardcore on Thursday nights. Last night, I caught wind and didn't pull from Nigella's cookbook, but my own mind.

I was shopping around Aldi, looking for imitation crab. I use that to make crab cakes. The only crab they had was in the form of seafood salad, so I put back my crab cake ingredients and started to go in a different direction. I thought to myself, What if I made something from scratch and didn't follow a recipe? This got me excited. Oh, the possibilities. Plus Aldi is a great place to find some ingredients that you would normally pay about $1,000 for. Like cheese.

I wandered back to the dairy area and I grabbed some half and half. I grabbed a tub of shredded asiago cheese and a tub of shredded romano cheese (these 2 tubs would be $3 or more at any other store). I picked up some mushrooms unsliced (but I've got my Rachel Ray knives). I got some tortellini (I didn't make those from scratch. I'm not that amazing yet).

I threw 2 tbs. of butter (not margarine, but actually Paula Dean's favorite food!) in the pan, with a touch of oil so the butter wouldn't burn, and began to saute some freshly chopped garlic (one of my favorites). The smell was heavenly. The garlic bathed in that butter and turned a delicious brown. I could've placed that garlic and butter in a cup and drink it. I could put it on bread and just eat it all. Once they had cooked for a good while, I threw in my sliced mushrooms and let them cook.

Meanwhile, I took two cups of half and half, as well as a pat of butter, to a boil and added some salt, asiago and romano cheeses. I think I overdid it on the cheeses. The next time I won't use so much because the sauce needed to be a bit creamier. I added salt and let the cheese melt to create a buttery, creamy, rich sauce.

Are you hungry yet?

I deglazed the pan with some Shiraz and let it cook down a little bit more.

Once the cream sauce was melted through, I put in the mushrooms, salt and tasted it. It was creamy, cheesey and the romano cheese added a delicious nutty flavor.

This is exactly what I've been wanting to do for a while. You see, as a Food Network junkie (especially Chopped) when the chefs and cooks throw ingredients together without a book, I am amazed and jealous that they can do that. I know they are trained, but it's so much more fun to NOT go by the book. I do it all the time in life, so why not in the kitchen? It makes me excited just thinking about it! Luckily, I made too much, and there are leftovers.

The Best of Antiquing

2011-03-20T22:47:00.002-04:00

I had to take a picture of the wonderful Miss Piggy piggy bank. Notice the coin slot as cleavage.

Someday I will own this type of Pyrex. It's my favorite.

These fancy binoculars close nicely and could fit in my purse.

I remember him and this sign.

I can't think of anything to say here.

This is how dinners should be served.

These two are in every antique store I go to. I think they're stalking me.

Because people actually collect these...

Best. Record. Ever.

Best. Book. Ever.

The store had some fun old-fashioned candies.

I liked these riding boots. They may be a bit too fashion-forward for Indiana. Also, about $125.

She's watching you.

Scariest. Bear. Ever.

From when Dickens published it the FIRST time...

"Spellbinder" by L.J.Smith

2011-03-20T12:43:00.000-04:00

I am revisiting my love of teen-horror romances circa the 90's -- long before "Twilight" was a blip on anyone's radar.

Back in the day, when all I read were haunts by Christopher Pike and R.L. Stine (which were able to come out almost monthly), I stumbled upon an author named L.J. Smith. She was a master of the Trilogy. What pulled me in, and what I would love to read again someday, was "Dark Visions." A book about kids with psychic abilities and their war against some man who wanted to use their powers for evil.

After I fell in love with that series, she started publishing "Night World." A 10-book whopper that chronicled the lives of vampires, witches, shape-shifters and other "creatures" that had to live secretly among the human population. Each book chronicled a "Night Person" that fell in love with a human and they were evidence of the "soul mate principle" that was configured in the coming of some great millennial war. Each book, which mentioned in passing other characters from other stories, were practically stand alones. These books didn't have re-occurring characters like the typical series. Instead, you relied on back story to build and build. In order for the other stories to make sense, you had to read them in order.

Sadly, Book 10 never came out. It is rumored that, with the republishing of all her novels in the post-"Twilight" world of horror romance, it will finally come out. But I'm not holding my breath.

So, instead, I have been checking out each audio book from my digital library and listening to them as brainless pleasures on my way home from work.

The latest, the third in the series, was "Spellbinder." Two "sisters" witches (born the same time of sisters, so they are actually cousins) move to Las Vegas to live with their Crone Grandma because one of them keeps getting them in trouble by creating boy toys -- that would be Blaise. Then, one unsuspecting day, Thea, her cousin/sister saves a human boy from a snake bite and she has found her soul mate.

Understand, this is not good. Humans can not know of the Night World, nor can they fall in love with humans. It is punishable by death for both parties. So, when Thea comes to terms with her predicament, it is no small undertaking.

Blaise sees this and decides to help Thea out by trying to get the boy to fall in love with her instead, using a crazy amount of spells. Each and every one bounces off of him. Thea tries spells herself, but it doesn't work. In the meantime, while both Thea and Blaise are working their magic (and it's more herbs and stones, not lightning shooting out of their fingertips), Thea decides to use a Forbidden Spell that only elders can use. This releases a mean spirit into the world. Oops.

This mean spirit kills a human boy at the high school they attend.

Now, Thea is panicked because there is blood on her hands. What's a teenage girl to do? Not only has she used a Forbidden Spell that has caused a death, but she's also in love with a human, and now she has to send that mean spirit back to the other side of the veil.

It isn't brilliant. It's somewhat predictable, but what I find interesting is how Smith begins to weave together the underlying story of how the Night World is beginning to change and how humans and Night People are beginning to fall in love with each other, like it's an omen of things to come. When those pieces of the story are revealed, I get a little giddy. Sadly, they are small snippets.

But, it's enough to move forward to the next book, since I have forgotten how it plays out.

Nigella Thursday: 3.11.11

2011-03-11T17:09:00.000-05:00

Thursdays are my night to cook since Steph works late. For Valentine's Day, she got me Nigella Lawson's latest cook book, "Nigella Kitchen." My goal is to cook her recipes every Thursday (it may be hit and miss for the next month and a half because of track meets and practice).

The first week I made her "Sunshine Soup," which was a fresh-tasting mix of frozen corn, garlic olive oil and roasted orange and yellow peppers. That was before I decided to go crazy and make it a Thursday night prime, and now I introduce to you:

The second recipe was an intensive food-processing and chopping edition of Sloppy Joes. Nigella simply named it "Barbecued ground beef." If you turn in to your cookbooks to page 33, class, you will find the recipe.

I wrote a note for Steph to tape on the door, so when she got home she would see it. I realized the pen I used was a tattoo pen, so I put it to good use while browning my hamburger and celery, carrot, onion puree.

I had my meat ingredients, and on the right, I put together my wet ingredients, which actually called for Worcestershire sauce and bourbon. I tried to get a small bottle of Evan Williams (aged 7 years), but I had to go with Jim Beam because I didn't exist in a small bottle.

It simmered for 25 minutes and I placed it on buns to make a sandwich. It was good, but I altered the recipe just a little more with brown sugar. It made a ton. The next time I make it, I'm having people over.

And that way, you can visit with Nigra, too.

Restless Reading

2011-03-09T21:40:00.000-05:00

As Nigra whines at me nightly, I too have become just as restless. I don't know what she wants, and when I stare at my bookshelf, I don't know what I want to read.

I've become restless with my reading. I was 50 pages into "Something Wicked This Way Comes" by Ray Bradbury, an author I know that I will read someday, but the story takes place in the fall and in October, around Halloween, and it needs to be read then, not in this epileptic weather that is March. I did this with Stephen Kings's "Salem's Lot" and it made the book that much better.

I had reading restlessness a couple of years ago when all that I read was, in my opinion, crap. Nothing satisfied me and I felt like I was trudging through the literary word. I would get through some book like "Choke" by Chuck Palahniuk or "Samedi the Deafness" by Jesse Ball and just get bored. I gave up reading what I thought I "should" be reading and went back to my roots: horror, suspense, thriller, fantasy, weird. I started enjoying reading...and then, I picked up "Harry Potter" and I ruined it for myself. Those books got me so excited, and reading was effortless. I want that again, but I want that with some "literary" book that are so brilliant I'm absorbed, while looking intelligent while reading it.

As I try to add more "literary" books to my repertoire, every time I pick one up, I just stare at the words. Big. Long. Paragraphs. I used to be able to read anything I sat down with, but lately... I'm getting this thought in my head. This little, mean, green, man is yelling at me: "If you're going to be any kind of writer, you need to read Pulitzer Prize Winners and Nobel Prize winners!"

And then I feel small, like, I'm doing it all wrong.

I used to read just weird books. Horror. Suspense. Sci-fi. Thriller. Weird books. Then, as I got older, I thought, "Hmm...I should begin reading more literary novels."

And so, I began doing that. I picked up novels that had no mystery, that had no fantasy attached to the characters and plot. Then, I realized...BOO! I got bored. I wanted my weird books back.

Here's the problem. In order to write, you need to read. So, do I read literary books? Should I just read what catches my attention? The weird stuff? Should I stop going to the $1 section from Half Price Books and picking up novels I may never read, and stick to ones that I know I will read, instead?

I told someone recently that I was going to stop caring what I picked up to read, that I was going to be unapologetic. I haven't been very good at that. I'm not sorry for liking weird books. I've been putting of the new Stephen King because I've been thinking I should read something "more literary." I've been putting off other young adult stories that I think I would enjoy.

So, it starts today -- I am not sorry for what I read. And guess what? I've started to read a cook book, and I think I will begin reading more of them.

2011-02-18T20:12:00.001-05:00

The hip hop acts at this little open mic night have been more fun (and better) than the acoustic acts. I think I want to see Eminem live because of this.

2011-02-18T19:54:00.001-05:00

I'm listening to a song at an open mic night called "Silky Pillow." The singer's dad is playing the piano to this dirty song. "Will you be my silky pillow..."

Upset stomach, indigestion...

2011-02-17T18:26:00.001-05:00

I was handing out a pink sheet of paper and told my students, "It looks like Pepto-Bismol."

Then I asked them the lyrics to the famous add campaign:

I couldn't remember it correctly, so I decided to change the lyrics to: upset stomach, indigestion, real bad farts, and diarrhea. I started laughing hysterically at myself. My students said, "Those aren't the words."

"I know. I like my version better!" So, I sang it again. "Upset stomach, indigestion, real bad farts, and diarreah!"

At this point, I'm poised to fall off my rolling-teacher-chair-of-importance. I clutched onto the back, perching, and I sang it again and again, and at this point, my students have no clue what to do with me, so they laugh with me. Or at me. I know they weren't laughing at me in the cruel mocking way someone tells you, "Oh, I'm not laughing with you, I'm laughing at you." Instead, I think they were laughing at my laughing. They thought it was too funny that my face was bright red.

"Mr. Williams! Your face is so red!"

"Breathe, Mr. Williams! BREATHE!"

"He's gonna BLOW!"

At this point, they started lurching forward under their desks.

"Get the extra oxygen tank!" One of them screamed from below. "Put the mask on him!"

At this point, I was holding onto the back of my chair for dear life, sucking in air, as I tilted my head back and lilted my sonic boom laughter.

It took me a while to get class back under control after that.

"The Last Battle" by C.S. Lewis

2011-02-13T17:25:00.000-05:00

Halfway through "The Last Battle," it stops being a battle and turns into this crazy Christian (because it's C.S. Lewis) acid trip. Where heaven is explained. And it's all existentialism. Thought-provoking, yes, but totally trippy.

It all starts with a barn door.

Well, not really a barn door. It actually starts with a stupid talking ape named Shift. He's the dominant personality in the animal odd couple of he and the donkey, Puzzle. He tells Puzzle what to do, and then reminds Puzzle that he's an ass. A stupid one at that. Puzzle believes it and continues to do the ape's bidding. Poor Puzzle, it's his self esteem that really starts all this trouble.

On the back of the cover for "The Last Battle," it states that a false Aslan is roaming Narnia. It sounds absolutely intriguing, especially since it's all allegory for the antichrist. I picked it up, so ready to see where it was going to go. Then, I was totally let down by this "fake Aslan."

It turns out Shift the ape sees a lion skin floating down the river. He decides to sew a lion costume for Puzzle to wear so they can begin work as a new Aslan. "People will listen to us," the ape tells Puzzle, "and we'll make Narnia right."

A donkey in a lion costume is the fake Aslan? Really?

And they don't make Narnia right. Instead, they make it terribly wrong. They bring in the not-so-good neighbors called the Caloremen. Battle ensues. Then, the Caloremen bring up their god Tash. Then, the ape teams up with the Caloremen and they combine Aslan and Tash and make "Tashlan." All the people and animals that believed in Aslan are now totally confused and don't trust anybody anymore.

Jill and Eustace are back in Narnia at this point, and they're trying to help King Tirian fight off this foe. Toward one of the mini-climaxes of the book, they are standing out in front of the barn where this horrible Tash is said to be kept. People that go in, well, they don't come out, or they come out changed. Tirian gets caught and is thrown in. Instead of dying, Lucy, Peter, Edmund and others are there...

Huh?

And after that, it just gets weirder and weirder. The last 50 pages are obviously one big happy heaven allegory, but the way Lewis describes it was trippy. I'm not quite sure how little kids who read this book understand it, but you know what, they need to work on their higher-order thinking skills.

"The Silver Chair" by C.S. Lewis

2011-02-13T16:46:00.001-05:00

In order to write this next review of "The Chronicles of Narnia," I am invoking the power of Celtic music: "She Moved Through the Fair." There's something cooley spooky about Celtic music that has a mysterious, but also enchanting tone to it. It could be the connection it has to the Druids of the past and Stonehenge, but some of it encapsules sunsets burning across untamed landscapes, landscapes where rock and grass, mountain and field are married in a cool, but crisp, dewy habitat.

It's this landscape that I envision when I read "The Silver Chair," while our heroes Eustace, Jill and a Marsh Wriggle named Puddleglum traversed through the northern most reaches of Narnia.

Lewis has once more written with the formula of "the quest." There is err in Narnia, which must be solved with the rescuing of Prince Rilian, Caspian's son. Caspian decides to take one last sail across the ocean, toward Aslan's country, without realizing that Eustace, Jill and Puddleglum decide to go search for Rilian, because, really, Caspian is looking old. Plus, he has no clue that this son of Adam and daughter of Eve are even around.

So, off we go, the narrator tells us, as we travel through hazardous giant country, and then, deeper underground, where the Underground People are ruled by, could it possibly be? Yes. Another nasty witch-queen. We have some dangerous run-ins with weather and giants, Underground People and the witch, who is slain in a anti-climactic fight sequence that will, hopefully, be out-done if this ever becomes a movie (which, if my calculations are correct, should be the next installment in the recent makings).

I felt like I was losing steam with the sixth book. The great quest they were on seemed simplified. I remember "Prince Caspian" being so much more complex, even "The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe" was more complex. This one felt like it was peetering out. Although, one of the best scenes was when we come to Rilian, whom we're not quite sure if it is him or not. This is also the scene where the title of "The Silver Chair" makes sense.

Icepocolypse III: The Removal

2011-02-02T19:40:00.001-05:00

We took to the streets today. Okay, not the streets. Although, from our view here in the house, the main street is looking pretty good. Instead, we took to the driveway, which is lethal to those without ice skates, and we did not have ice skates.

My dread was stated in earlier posts below about having an ample amount of time to clear off the cars. We braved the gentle snow, and bitter chill, to de-ice our cars. In the process, I broke two scrapers. I wasn't too sad about one, but I cursed when I broke the second one: the furry-mitt kind that encases your hand in faux fur so you don't need to use a glove. Both cars were freed within 20 minutes, and they were moved smoothly out of their iced-in spots.

While some were using hot water, gasoline, salt and other de-icing materials, I just took my fist to the car and shattered the ice. I don't say this to sound strong, it is merely truth, however. I gently punched my gloved hand around the outside of my car and the ice cracked. Here's why: the New Beetle Convertible is mainly cloth and plastic. The Beetle handles well in winter weather, and now I know that, even coated in over an inch of ice that was effortless to remove, the Beetle is still a great winter car.

It's too bad that I won't have to drive it, again, tomorrow, as my school district is closed, yet again.

Icepocolypse II

2011-02-01T21:00:00.000-05:00

My dreams have come true. I will be able to take a pick ax to my car tomorrow, while sliding and sinking into the 2 inches (or more) of sleet that's out there, without the worry of going to school.

In other news, we decided to go and take down our giant ornaments that were hanging over the garage. It's not what we had intended, however.

There was a loud crack against the glass of our storm door, and the wind was making our wind chimes thrash like a bad hair band. We got outside and unhooked the chimes. The wind outside right now is whipping the trees back and forth just like Willow Smith. Our giant Christmas ornaments were still hanging, so as the sleet hit our faces and hands like flecks of sea salt, I climbed on the ladder to get those ornaments down.

And then the sky lit up bright blue! I have never seen lightning during a winter storm. Steph and I start laughing hysterically because it is absolutely crazy out there.

If I had spent any more time out there, I would've run around screaming and yelling, acting like it was the end of the world.

Icepocolypse

2011-02-01T16:32:00.000-05:00

As you know, Jack Frost is crying shards of ice all over the mid-section of Indiana. It is beginning to cause damage. My hope is that we'll still be off tomorrow, which will give me ample time to de-ice my car which now has a nice candy shell, with a gooey Beetle filling. I'm beginning to get a little paranoid. The type where I can't feel my hands.

Meteorologist Julia Sandstrom, from WRTV 6, decided to tell us, based on her "futurecast," that there could be a warm-up overnight, where the falling ice pellets could turn into rain. But, then, still based on her forecast and model, the temperature will drop again. This means any wetness could re-freeze. I shun her for forecasting that. SHUN! I don't want a warm up. I want no school. I want ample time to get my car de-iced! And, if there is a warm-up, I want to have ample amount of time to un-ice my car, especially if I must drive in the morning, so there better be a 2-hour delay at least. I'm sure some of you are thinking that I'm crazy for even thinking that I could have school in the morning, but until I get the call -- I'm going to school!

But there's hope because Anderson University is already closed for tomorrow...

Another omen-bringer of paranoia is how the power has been flickering all day. It seems to have steadied itself within the past hour, but I decided to quickly shower once the first flicker happened, knowing that I may not get a warm shower for a while. According to some, I may never get a warm shower again!

I went outside to be proactive, and I tried to start chipping away at the ice on my car. That wasn't going to happen, especially while the second wave just started. Also, my little plastic tool did little damage. My goal was to get the ice off and then put a tarp over my windows, just in case we got called in to school in the morning.

I can see it now. Thereis a slight warm up, and it allows the roads to be passable, and it allows schools to open, but my car will still be covered in a thicket of ice. I'll have to wake up at 4 a.m. and turn my car on so the heat of the car melts the ice, and then I'll have to watch it. I don't want someone to steal my car. I can see it now: "I can't wait for my car to thaw! Wait, look yonder! That Beetle is almost thawed!"

VROOM VROOOOM! Off goes the Beetle and I have no way to get to school.

Don't even get me started on the actual possibility of no power.

So, I await the 5 p.m. news to see if there's actually been any changes in the forecast.

“Chronicles of Narnia: Voyage of the Dawn Treader” by C.S. Lewis

2011-01-21T17:39:00.001-05:00

It took me three different tries to read and finish this book. I’m not even sure why. I think it’s because I would sit down to read it after I read a fairly adult novel, and after 40 pages of kiddish writing, I would throw my hands up and scream, “GAH!”

The first two times, I only got as far as page 50. It didn’t hold my attention, and I’m not sure why.

Then, 20th Century Fox retained the rights for the movies (since Disney dropped it ). The movie came out this past holiday season, and since I neglected seeing Prince Caspian in theaters, it was time to get back onto my Narnian steed and ride into the Dawn Treader sunset!

Lewis pitched the formula of the past Narnia books (minus The Horse and His Boy which didn’t even call on the Brits from our world) for Dawn Treader.

The other books, The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, Prince Caspian, and now (although I am not finished with it yet) The Silver Chair all follow a similar formula: We meet the British kids, they are swept to Narnia, they find it is in danger, they save it, Aslan comes and says how happy he is about them in a scary tone, and then the kids leave.

The Voyage of the Dawn Treader sweeps the Brits to the ocean, this time, off the coast of Narnia. We actually never step foot in Narnia. Instead, along with our pal Prince Caspian, Edmond and Lucy (from the previous Narnian adventures) bring their snotty cousin Eustace to the high seas. In this adventure, we are looking for seven noble men that were once sent away by Caspian’s evil uncle when he ruled.

Instead of one long narrative, each of the islands in the journey are their own little mini-story. Each island is devoted to a couple of chapters, and then we also read about their harrowing journey on the seas (especially weeks of turbulent storms). It all ties together, of course, but there isn’t one, single, monumental outcome. They’re in it for the adventure.

Now, if you see the movie, do realize they take some creative liberties. I can see why they do this, but it’s the first of the movies to actually step aside from literal translation.

I hope Lewis’ grandchildren weren’t mad…

As I wade through the rest of the series (I’m sad that there’s only two books left), I’m beginning to wonder if I would enjoy reading “The Lord of the Rings.” I know it’s a much heftier read in the fantasy genre, but it’s a classic. I like classics. Mostly.

Sucking Wash Cloths

2011-01-21T17:10:00.001-05:00

When I was a young chap, I used to take a lot of tubs. That’s what we called them…tubs. Wasn’t it?

I can’t remember.

Not that you would know…

I just don’t want to be one of those people that start making up things about my childhood so family members are like: “Where did you come up with that? That never happened!”

We all have them in our families, and I don’t want to be that person. I’m that person plenty. I don’t need another cause…

Anyway.

During those “tubs,” I would suck on the wash cloth. I would fill it up with water from the faucet, I think, and I would suck out the water.

Here’s the thing: I can’t remember if I used clean faucet water, or if I was a nasty kid and used the muck I sat in.

Let’s just say it was from the faucet. I don’t need judgment.

I stuck that wad of terry cloth in my mouth and sucked hard. It was like some mouth fetish.

No, not fetish. Fetish is the wrong word.

It was more of a sensation-thing. I liked how the terry cloth felt. I would chew on it, too.

Now, it wasn’t like was I was 15 when I did this. I remember being a little kid. So, if you’re wondering why I am so weird, you can stuff it.

Then, my mom had to ruin it for me. She told me that I cleaned my butt with the wash cloth, so I shouldn’t be sucking on it.

…and…now you can judge me.

“Thirst, No. 3: The Eternal Dawn” by Christopher Pike

2011-01-01T20:20:00.001-05:00

When I found out Pike was adding more to the Alisa/Sita story...I about peed myself. Before this book came out, I knew the first six books (originally published in the 90's as "The Last Vampire" series) were re-released in two volumes called "Thirst: No. 1" and "Thirst: No. 2." With the vamp-papalooza lately, I wasn't surprised the publishers would try and get Christopher Pike's older, but still relevant, vampire stories noticed.

I have the original six books. They are short and small paperbacks that left you on the edge of your seat. The sixth book neatly tied up the series. I was happy with it. It was complete. It's one of the few sets of books I've read more than twice. I wished it would've been made into movies, etc.

Then, I realize that this latest title "Thirst No. 3: The Eternal Dawn" was a continuation of "The Last Vampire" from the 90's. I asked for it from Santa. Luckily, I got it and it took me two sit-downs to read the 478 pages (way longer than any of the "Last Vampire" books when they were originally published).

The voice of the character was still fairly similar, and I found it super easy to get back into the series after 15 years. Luckily, the book picks back up in "real time" and is 15 years later, as well.

(Here's the thing: In the last book, before it was all republished, Sita/Alisa had the chance to renig any of the vampire stuff that happened to her and because of that, she ended up being a human at the end of the sixth book...as if her life as a vampire never happened. This was how I ended the series 15 years ago, thinking nothing more would come to it.)

I thought this was a cool/sad way to end the story, so you find my surprise when, we, the reader, find out that Sita is alive and well.

The plot "twist" that allowed this was decent enough. Believable. I felt like Pike pounded it into our heads a few times too many, though.

That's OK. I love this series so much that, in my heart, Pike can do NO wrong with it. It can get absolutely crazy, and I will stand by it as brilliant.

It was one of the first vampire stories I ever read and since it's ingrained in my childhood, it will always be one of my favorites, especially since "No. 3" was left in a crazy cliffhanger (as I should've known) and "No. 4" will come out this summer, and by golly, it better.

Here's the thing, though. Pike cannot half-ass it. It's been known that he doesn't sometimes finish series/sequels (The "Alosha" trilogy was said to have a fourth book, but it's never come out, while "The Cold One" was supposed to have a sequel, and THAT never happened). If he goes through with more books with Sita, it will need to end, otherwise I'll be really unhappy with abysmal, cryptic no-answers.

I was burned with "Night World" by L.J. Smith when she NEVER released the last book in the 10-book series.

Tsk. Tsk.

Snuggie “Party”

2010-12-19T18:26:00.001-05:00

Somehow we got into a discussion in my first period class about Snuggies. When I say “we,” I mean me. I brought it up. It was my doing. My students had nothing to do with it. If it wasn’t for me, their lives would be pitiful!

PITIFUL!

I told them that we (this time I mean it in the plural) should have a Snuggie Party. I said, “If you’ve got a Snuggie, bring it in and we’ll wear them!”

“Can we bring in food?” They asked, resounding like a Greek chorus.

“No. You’ll get your Snuggies all dirty. We can’t have that. There is nothing worse than cheap fleece with bits of food stuck on it,” I said.

They raised their pitchforks at me and said…nay…yelled: “We will have snacks you dastardly Mr. Williams!”

“Away from me you soulless souls! Be gone!”

“NEVER!” They cried out.

Then, all went back to normal, and it wasn’t spoken of again. The Thursday before break finally came and in walked, are you ready?

Only five people with Snuggies.

I allow them to be ridiculous and they didn’t fully take me up on the offer. Alas, one of the kids did bring me a Snuggie for me to wear (since I do not own one) and I wore that sucker for three full periods. Dare I say…It was glorious.

The downfall of the Snuggie is this: the flaps don’t sit right on your shoulders. I kept pulling them up like it was a large dress that wouldn’t stay on me. I remedied it with one of my magnetic clips I use on my white board. Once closed, I could’ve worn it all day.

But, it came from a student’s house. I know that the kid is probably clean, but my eye started to itch while I was wearing it. Then, the bed bug scare as of late got into my soul and I started twitching. I began to hate myself and cursed my carelessness. I thought: It’s almost winter break, you fool, and you’re going to infest your house with bed bugs!

Gah!

I shed it, and I’m happy to announce that I don’t have little bite marks around my ankles, which is where (so I’ve heard) the bed bugs nibble on you while you sleep.

Now, you’re going to itch after you’ve read this. Sorry.

Here Are a Bunch of Book Reviews That I Haven’t Gotten To Lately, so I’m Going to Throw Them All Into One Post, So Bare With Me!

2010-12-18T13:49:00.001-05:00

This past fall has been steeped in dystopian literature, horror romance and a short, but complex, classic. I usually write a review for each book, but since I read them in a sort of “sets,” I figured I’d go at it in a less traditional way.

Dystopian Literature

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I read Margaret Atwood’s “The Handmade’s Tale” and “The Hunger Games” trilogy by Suzanne Collins, and I realize how much I love good dystopian literature. I think I like it because no matter how bad we think we’ve got it right now (the polarizing political parties, the recession and the love/hate relationship people are having with Obama), it could be much worse. Women-losing-their-rights worse (“Handmade”) or Teenagers-forced-to-kill-on-live-reality-TV worse (“Games”).

Plus, regardless of how fantastic and creative these stories are, or how dramatic they can be, or where the characters find themselves, dystopian literature always makes you think. And it doesn’t have to be the type of thinking where you sit in a circle of desks with classmates and dissect. It’s just a personal thought bubble you have that engulfs you for a few minutes, or a few days, and you’re haunted by the story, the characters’ actions and what it all means.

Then you start to panic because, sure, things are rough right now and it’s difficult to navigate through these recent days (especially when the Nightly News with Brian Williams on NBC is a complete and utter downer), but then you begin to think that our world really is headed to a dystopian nightmare and you run outside and start screaming with your sandwich board, “The End is Nigh!”

Just kidding.

I Finally Read Good Dean Koontz’s

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I’ve never read such a hit-or-miss author like Dean Koontz. There are novels out there that are total wins (“False Memory” and “The Taking”) and then there are total bombs that are such train wrecks, you have to finish them because you need to know how they end (“The Darkest Night of the Year” and “Velocity”), but the weirdest of them all that I’ve read so far was “Whispers” where the eviliscious bad guy “gets it on” with himself in front of the mirror because he thinks it’s his twin.

Ew. Gross. Stop. It. Dean. Koontz.

Luckily, my faith was restored recently (but I’m not sure how long it’ll last) with “By the Light of the Moon” and “Your Heart Belongs to Me.” The first is a tale where these people are injected with “special stuff” and they begin to realize they are changing in a very supernatural way. It deals with their copings of such a traumatic event. By the end of the book, I realized it was Koontz’s (weird) version of a super hero tale. It was a bit long in parts, but that’s Koontz for you. You get used to skimming certain parts without feeling guilty.

“Your Heart Belongs to Me” was, by far, one of my favorites by him because it was completely unexpected. You read the book jacket and say, “oh, that’s crap” because it sounds redundant and done before. A guy has heart surgery. A mysterious woman starts to terrorize him, saying that it’s hers. Blah, blah, blah. But really, that has nothing to do with it. The book jacket was misleading.

I hate misleading book jackets.

The only reason I read it was because I paid $.50 for it at a garage sale and it wasn’t very long. I’m so glad I found it in a brown grocery bag with a bunch of other Koontz’s. It was a total nod to Edgar Allen Poe and his “Tell-Tale Heart.”

I love when a modern writer nods to a classic one. It lets me know that they are well-read and fairly intelligent, even if some of the tales they weave are not.

Yes, I like Campy Teen-Horror-Romance, Too

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Do not judge these books by their covers. They have actually been re-released for a more “modern” audience. I just enjoy the book art (from my teen days) and the paintings, which are far scarier-looking than the more modern covers which just have girls looking at the camera all-smoldering-like.

I wanted something easy and fun to listen to in the car, so I downloaded the first two books in the “Night World” series by L.J. Smith (made re-famous again because an old series of books called “The Vampire Diaries” was made into a TV series by “Dawson’s Creek” creator Kevin Williamson).

“Secret Vampire” was actually annoying because the narrator sounded like a bouncy red-head. When her high-pitched voice read the dialogue for the male characters, it sounded like she was a little girl making Ken dolls talk. It’s not my favorite story, either, but it’s modern enough: Girl gets diagnosed with cancer. Girl’s best friend is a vampire. Girl falls in love with vampire (long before Bella was even born). Girl goes through with becoming vampire so she can survive cancer. Brother finds out. Brother and girl’s (now) boyfriend have it out. Other issues ensue. Mom can’t find out.

But, it needs to be read first because it’s the first book, and even though I read it when I was a teenager (own it, actually), I couldn’t just skip it…there are RULES, people.

“Daughters of Darkness,” which sounds like some campy, B-grade film from the 70’s (with bad sex scenes), is much better. It has nothing to do with the aforementioned. Instead, three sisters are escaping the Night World to live with their aunt who lives in the “human world.” The sisters’ brother tries to find them, and return them home, but two human neighbors, who loved the aunt, get involved. The girl-neighbor falls for the brother. The boy-neighbor falls for one of the sisters.

The best part is (spoiler alert), the girl-neighbor and the brother-vampire don’t end up together in the end. (What?!)

The narrator was better. The story is better. The violence is better. Smith jumps around from different character P.O.V’s better (she did the same in “Secret Vampire” but it got annoying). I don’t know, it’s just a darker tale and it feels like Smith catches her stride with the second book. The rest of the series follows suit in the same manner, each book getting better. I look forward to listening to all of them.

It’s a series of 10 books. Sadly, the 10th book never came out. Rumor has it, now 10 years later, that it will finally release due to her re-submergence, but we’ll see.

The Classic. Read Thrice.

Pushing the big 3-0, I’m glad I re-read this (because Nick, the narrator, just turns 30 in the book). I appreciated the mind frame more. Also, as a teacher, I figured out the metaphors and such easier. The only reason I re-read the book was because my brother-in-law needed some extra help with it. He ended up finishing it up and the semester ended before we could meet again, but I finished it anyway.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: I love to read about rich people and their problems. It makes you feel better about yourself.

This third-time-around, my blood pressure rose more frequently because the characters of Tom and Daisy Buchannan are so infuriating. I almost yelled at them while listening to the final chapters while doing the dishes, especially when it’s Daisy that kill’s Tom’s mistress with the car and not Gatsby.

I think it’s time to crack open my vintage copy of “Tender is the Night.”

Game Over, Space Invader!

2010-12-13T17:58:00.001-05:00

I haven’t been sewing lately, and I’m not sure why. It took only two work sessions to finish my latest bag, but those two work sessions were very far apart. This bag is fashioned after Bull in a China Shop. It’s a tote that fits nicely over the shoulder, but it buttons closed, using a vintage button found at an antique shop.

Bull in a China Shop

2010-09-30T21:50:00.001-04:00

My latest project was to create a custom bag as payment. My wonderful logos were made possible by T&T Promotions, a company that works placing logos on different items. I chose a simple white fabric I found in the remnants bin, and they did the rest.

The embroidered set-up cost had a cost, and that cost was just paid this week.

At first, I wanted to just pay the set-up fee, but Scott, one of the owners, told me that making a bag for his wife, Brooke, would be best.

I asked her what she wanted, I emailed her photos of different fabric combinations, and after she chose the two fabrics that were the most “her” I got to work.

I took a t-shirt from Gap with a bull on it and went to town. Below, you will see the birth of “Bull in a China Shop” aptly named by Steph because, yes, there’s a bull on it, but if you knew me, you would know that I am a bull in a china shop. I need to be careful, and even when I am careful, something can happen, break or fall because of me.

Although this bag is not for sale, I will be creating another bag that is different in fabrics, but similar in style. It will button shut with a tab, and it will have two giant pockets on the inside, and it will/can hang over your shoulder with two straps.

Grandpa Goes on Vacation

2010-09-17T11:57:00.001-04:00

My dad commissioned me to make him a bag. We took a trip to Joann’s for fabric, and I don’t think he’d ever been in one. We traveled around the store to find the best options, and we went to the outdoor fabric section.

For 1/2 off, there was a navy fabric with a hammock and palm tree motif on it. We paired it with a quilting fabric for the inside lining that’s crackled brown.

He needed something to carry library books.

I got a text from him last night telling me he overloaded the bag at the library with too many books and a seam ripped. “Grandpa Goes on Vacation” is going to have to go on a vacation away from my dad so I can fix it…

They have gone LIVE!

2010-09-04T10:32:00.001-04:00

I called Peggy at A Corner Cottage and asked whether she had received my bags. Apparently, they were placed in a drawer? and that’s why she didn’t find them…

Regardless of any confusion, they have been hanging in the store now for a week. They have stories attached to them, and they were on a coat rack.

She priced them at $29, which she said was low, but she wanted to see how they would “take off.” She’s very excited for me. When I picked up sewing, the first thing to hit my mind was never “I want to get things into a store to sell them!” I just thought it was a handy trade to learn.

And now, I’m going to be famous! Watch out Vera Bradley, I, too, will have a large factory up in Northern Indiana!

I need to get started on another bag to sell there. The two that are currently hanging are what I call “The Grandma Series” because the fabrics are from grandma-related materials. I think the next one could also be a part of the Grandma Series.

Aren’t Photo Booths Fun?

2010-09-04T10:20:00.001-04:00

We went to a wedding in…well, we didn’t actually go to the wedding, we just went to the reception-thing, Louisville, KY last weekend.

In the corner of the bar/pub/place was a photo booth, and next to the booth was a table full of props.

I dare say, if I could have one in my house, I would take a picture everyday before I would leave and when I got home, look at it. It would be the best way to start my day.

The Boyfriend Sweatshirt Tote

2010-08-28T12:17:00.001-04:00

I have a Ball State sweatshirt that’s not a hoodie that I don’t plan on wearing normally. I like that it’s from my college, but I would like to do something else with it. Before I take it apart, though, I decided to use another sweatshirt, bound for Goodwill, and see what I could come up with.

I have created the Boyfriend Sweatshirt Tote. Although the straps aren’t super long, it’s great for carrying the heavier items when you go grocery shopping.

When I take apart the Ball State sweatshirt, I’ll be sure to make the straps long enough to go over the shoulders, since those are way easier to carry.

It’s the first bag that has the successful label sewed in as it should, so there wasn’t any sewing the bag to my pants.

Check it out now, while the supply lasts.

“Chronicle of a Death Foretold” by Gabriel Garcia Marquez

2010-08-28T12:03:00.001-04:00

I think this was my first Pulitzer Prize...or Nobel Prize...I can't remember which one. I know that the books people write that win the Pulitzers and the Nobels are supposed to be these amazing feats of writing that make you think and redefine humanity, but anytime I pick one up, it's length and topic just seem to heavy for me. It's not that I can't handle it, but there's a time when you need a classroom and a group of people to really understand a book.

This was one of them, and it was barely over 100 pages long. It was short, but the language and storyline was dense. Definitely not a pool read, but I'm glad I sifted through it.

Marquez creates this almost dreamy narrative about the death of the main character. Are we ever inside the characters head? Never. We don't know what the character is thinking or feeling as the story progresses, the only thing we know is what the narrator knows. This unreliable narrator (which I love by the way, one of my most favorite literary devices) speaks to all these towns people to see what really happened the day to Santiago Nasar.

This isn't he first Spanish-translation novel I've read, but I'm beginning to find that I really enjoy novels that were translated from Spanish...what's that about? It's like my weird fix on UK music acts that come to the US. I love UK music acts...

“Freezer Bag” labels are here!

2010-08-15T17:46:00.001-04:00

After a few weeks of hoping this would be a good idea, I have the labels made!

The problem is, I had to stitch them into the liners by hand (normally, I’ll just do this by machine) and as I was doing so, I ran into a minor set back on one of my bags.

“Freezer Bag” label sample (also, I’ll be selling the bags in an actual store)

2010-07-30T18:58:00.001-04:00

So, the dream is becoming a reality. Inside my bags, I’m going to have a custom label that will look exactly like my handwriting/logo.

Now, the “g” is up a little high at the end of bag, but that’s been taken care of. I don’t have an updated example, but I wanted to show off the next step in my venture.

Once the labels are done, I’ll be sewing them in and you’ll be able to buy them either on Etsy or at The Corner Cottage on the square of downtown Noblesville.

That’s right, you heard me correctly. My bags will be in a store!

“Owning” my own business

2010-07-29T01:23:00.001-04:00

I’m hitting a stride with this whole sewing-thing. I didn’t expect for it to amount to anything. That was never the goal when I picked it up as a hobby. It was just something I had recently wanted to learn.

I’m actually pretty good at it.

That wasn’t supposed to happen because I’m a photographer (or, so I thought) and I was trying to build up a photography/card making business. I began to work with my pictures by making hand made cards with them. I thought, “now, people will buy these and I’m going to have so much fun.”

I sorely found out that nobody really buys handmade cards. Not really. So, fun was not had. The only person that actually bought the cards was my grandmother. Then, when I got a card from my grandparents, it would be one of mine…

Nothing really became of the cards. I tried my hand at stationary, but I wasn’t really feeling it…and really…I’m not a graphic artist. Go to Etsy. Look there. You’ll find something that I could never have dreamed up. I did one graphic artist thing-a-majig and I think it was a let-down.

Sorry person that got that. I hope you don’t hold it against me.

As I played around with the whole card-making business, the next step with photography was shooting portraits. I expanded the business and added portraiture to the list of things I could do. To get my name out there, I started offering packages for auctions at a local Christian school. I figured, once those people luurved my work, they would show it off to others and my fame would be spread through word of mouth. \

Sadly, only one of the packages really “went through.” I took some fall family pictures, and they even hired me back to do some Christmas pictures. That was so exciting. “This is it!” I thought. “It’s starting.”

I went back, but as I set the kids up by the tree, one brother hit the other and it was all down hill from there.

As fun and wonderful as it would’ve been to get my business in photography going, it’s been a stagnant process. I decided that I would take pictures for anyone who would be willing, but I wasn’t going to stress out about it. Really trying to get your name out there and meet the right people is actually kind of expensive. I still get some sessions here and there, but nothing prolific. Prolific is shooting weddings. I refuse to shoot weddings.

During all this, I acquired a sewing machine and slowly, but surely (like the Little Engine That Could) I began to learn how to use the machine, and well. And then came the bags I sewed for an auction. And then came my own bag made from a pillow case.

Recently, I just think about the type of bag I want to make…cut out the pieces…and wallah a bag is made. With each bag, I get better. I have fun with it. It’s was something I am getting better at as I teach myself, as well as getting more comfortable with the sewing machine and the craft of sewing.

Luckily, with handmade goods, I can sell them online. I have yet to sell anything, but hopefully, that will change.

I am currently in the process of getting labels embroidered that say “Refridgerator Art, Freezer Bags” in my hand writing. Quirky and fun, to follow the original logo.

Those labels will get sewn into the bags that I make, and they will look professional. And they won’t smear in the wash. Because, yes, my bags are washable.

Please, who do you think I am? Coach?

I’ve got two for sale right now on Etsy. The selection will grow bigger once I get my labels.

“The Last Olympian” by Rick Riordan

2010-07-13T13:04:00.002-04:00

In the last installment of the "Percy Jackson" series, we are thrown into the battle of the Titans and the Olympians. On New York Streets.

In my imagination, I tried to do my best epic fight scenes I could muster. With the help of the LOTR trilogy, thanks to Peter Jackson, I was able to do quite well with armies against each other, trying to wreck havoc.

Riordan did a great job finishing up the story lines of Percy and the other characters he introduced, giving them a pretty "happy" ending, which is what we like in fantasy novels. We didn't want to have Percy all strapped to a rock, pecked at by birds, a la Prometheus, did we? Nah.

The only happy ending was how the gods were still proud, even though the demigods saved their butts. It's like, c'mon gods! Get real. You ain't so powerful, are ya, when the Titan god Kronos was about to make you keel over.

But really, would the gods have been overly grateful? Probably not. Their problem is their pride. I still have a problem with the fact that these immortal beings are so powerful, yet so...human. They let their petty differences get in their way.

In the end, I applaud Mr. Riordan for creating a new land and use for the Olympians and hope to see more...as long as it's not some terrible, redundant attempt at Hollywood Sequel-dom.

I mean...Disney is his publisher, and you remember all those sequels, right? Cinderella 2: Dreams Come True?

*sighs*

“The Battle of the Labyrinth” by Rick Riordan

2010-07-05T21:45:00.002-04:00

I'm coming into the same feeling of story exhaustion as I felt with "Harry Potter." I'm enjoying the story, but reading ALL of them in a row almost gets to be a bit much at times. This is when I wish I was reading them when they were first coming out.

A) It gets more exciting for the anticipation.

B) You don't look at your pile of other books to read and say, "Maybe I should've read those in between..."

We find Percy, Annabeth, Tyson and Grover on another quest, trying to figure out the confines of the Labyrinth. Since all of the gods and mythology moves with Western civilization, the great Labyrinth (the one the Minotaur lives in) is in underneath the States.

What I love most about this series is the braininess Riordan puts forth with how the mythology entwines into the story. I sat with Wikipedia for references since most of these stories and characters I've never heard of and it was fun to see how he was going to use the character/storyline.

Although it would be great to understand and know about Greek mythology before reading these books, it's good to at least know the story of Icarus and his father Daedalus...after that, just keep Wikipedia open. Or find Jim Henson's "The Storyteller" where they do a cool live-action actor/Muppet version.

The Yard is a Yard is a Yard…

2010-07-03T23:38:00.001-04:00

The backyard is what brought us to the conclusion that this small little house would be perfect for us. Nigra loves the outside, and, look! It's already landscaped nicely.

Let's buy it, okay?

And then, the first summer commences, and we have no clue what we were getting ourselves into. The man who lived here before us planted wildflowers, and those wildflowers died and turned into a massive infestation of weeds. The kind that are out for blood.

"Feed me, Seymour!"

Luckily, as the years have continued, we've been able to kill off most of the hateful weeds. The next order of business is the mulching. The backyard is sectioned off, but it takes so much mulch to make it look satisfactory and for us to do a good job and layer the mulch thick.

In order to mulch this summer, we had to weed, and weed, and weed. The problem with that is this: the weather has been unbearably hot, so going outside would cause heat stroke. Then, we can't forget to mention the insane amounts of rain and thunderstorms we've been having, for a while on a daily basis. Next, let's add humidity. Put all those elements into a blender on high and you'll get a yard that's overgrown in places because we haven't been able to keep up with it.

Some of the weeds, we call rhubarb, are these tall meaty beasts that hide themselves in the pine tree and the neighbor's tree/bush that invades our yard. They were as tall as me. We had to use limb cutters in order to cut them down, and they crunched and fell to the ground. So gross. Weeds are so alien-looking to me.

Also, from our trees, we've got the whirly-gig seedlings that plant more trees throughout our yard. Now, I'm all for planting trees, but when Nature decides to do it for me...I get a little testy. If Nature talked to me about where I wanted the trees, that would be different, but you see, Nature is a terrible landscape architect. Really, we've got plenty of trees already...

Another force of Nature that was against us were the mosquitoes. We believe some of their relatives are in "Eclipse" and they were pestering Steph because she refuses to read or see "Twilight." They swarmed and molested us.

We have put in almost 20 hours this week just trying to get the yard back to normal and mulched.

Then, we ran out of mulch...so, we're not entirely done...yet.

A Couple of Stupid Indie Flicks I Don't Like

2010-06-27T00:47:00.000-04:00

I know film = art.

There was a time I got it and I liked it, kind of. I enjoyed serious movies. Serious movies like, "Cold Mountain," "The Hours," and "Closer." I also own those three movies. I liked them in the theater, and I thought I would be the type of person that would enjoy a serious movie whenever.

Six or more years later, those movies still remain in their plastic wrap, unopened.

I realize now that I don't have as much time in my schedule for a really serious movie. I'd rather sit down with a serious book. I get more out of books. I try to write them. I don't write movies, so watching movies as "study" doesn't exactly exist. I'm one of those that have begun to enjoy movies for pleasure and escape. You know that small, little film from the 1990's called "Independence Day"? Yeah...

I can't forget to tell you that I loved "Transformers."

Do I realize what they are? Total eye candy. Do I care? No, because I don't leave the theater wanting to die.

The two movies that we rented through the library (or Netflix) where I wanted to simply die after watching were the following: "Happy Endings" and "Margot at the Wedding."

What do I begin with? "Margot at the Wedding" took this foul character of a writer-mother who sucked the attention and life out of everyone, and made her the most hateful, manipulative, pale, "I climb trees and get stuck, look at me! Look AT ME!" woman I've ever seen.

That's Margot, played by Nicole Kidman. Then, Jack Black shows up and shames the entire cast of "The Office" by playing the most awkward, uncomfortable character I have ever seen on screen. In my heart, he is Mr. Schneebly from "School House Rock" and the romantic Miles from "The Holiday." You can hate those movies, but those, to me, are better fits for Black. I get it that comedic actors need to stretch, but "Margot at the Wedding" was a depressive bomb that stank of a screenwriter that had serious issues and needed to go to therapy to work out their dirt, and not write a script...

Am I angry much? About that movie, I am. Although, it's fun to meet up with people who've seen it and also hated it. It is worth communal commiseration.

Then there was "Happy Endings." This strange "quirky" film where all these lives just randomly run into each other. I get it that "Pulp Fiction" paved the way for this kind of film. Some films do it well. Then there's "Happy Endings" where Lisa Kudrow's character is like Phoebe from "Friends" with depressive, self-destructive tendencies that knows no joy, and at the beginning of the movie, she's hit by a van and then we're told that "she doesn't die" by this split-screen text narration.

I think I get so uncomfortable with some of this material because it's visual and it hits me harder than a book. A book, regardless of the visceral detail or raw emotion, doesn't phase me and tear me up like a movie. The book will stay with me forever and haunt me at moments, but it doesn't make me cringe...normally. Whereas a movie is so visual, and although we are so automated and desensitized when it comes to the moving picture, the music and scarily realistic portrayals of messed up people (without the violence and such) get me squirming because I ask myself: Am I that messed up, too?

Don't even get me started about "Management" with Steve Zahn and Jennifer Aniston.

One Stone

2010-06-24T17:14:00.001-04:00

Our pond, right now, is super gross. It needs a good cleaning.

(Even worse, Raible will try to get drinks of water out of the brown pool. We have to shout at her, and then we feel bad because she thinks she did something wrong, which she did, but...you get the picture...)

What could possibly make the pond any grosser? Leaves and whirly gigs from oak trees fall into the pond, cook in the hot sun, and create a noxious stew.

As I was mowing the lawn, I came across two bodies floating in the water. Two little bird bodies. You know how the saying goes, right?

"It's like killing two birds with one stone."

I never expected to find those two victims floating in my pond.

I had to don my big black rubber gloves, I pulled out the tiny rake in from the shed, the little thing with the bright red handle, and used the rake to scoop them out. I laid them in a Kohl's plastic bag, and then tied the bag up tight. Then, I began to panic. My gloves didn't really touch the birds, but the rake did. To clean up, I did a clever bit. I hosed everything down with straight vinegar. Straight vinegar is a great bacteria killer. Any bacteria that had infested my tools are now dead.

Only one question now remains: Who threw the stone?

"The Titan's Curse" by Rick Riordan

2010-06-24T00:05:00.000-04:00

So, I think we need to go back to our mythology books and do a little research before we progress any further. The whole war between the Titans and the Olympians is vital here. If you don't know much about this war that took place, you need step away from Percy Jackson and read, if you even dare, Hesiod's great poem Theogony.

I gave it go for a few minutes, and oh. My. Gawd. I need to go find a visual family tree, really, to understand who came from whom. Everyone's all related to each other and some of them are having illegitimate children (seriously, Zeus and Hera are brother and sister, AND husband and wife).

So, with great praise, I give Riordan his kudos. He did the research, I believe him, and Chiron is the son of Kronos? And Zoe is the daughter of Atlas, am I getting this right? Good lord.

I cringe when I realize how much research goes into fiction.

In the third installment, we realize that Annabeth has gone missing. We meet the Hunters, who follow their Huntress Artemis, and they must vow to be with her and abstain from boys, among other things, and we journey AGAIN. And just like in the first book, we travel west. The journey is riddled with, well, riddles (a few) and the Oracle actually leaves the Big House to come and tell of it's latest prophecy. So, as we quest, the Hunters are off to find and save Artemis, who has fallen victim to one of the Titans (who are getting stronger, now) and Percy is off to find Annabeth, regardless of the dangers. On the way, we continue to worry about the prophecy about a certain half-blood (Riordan does a nice job messing with us by using Thalia and Percy, so we don't know what to think) and their pivotal role in bringing down the Olympians.

We even get to meet up with two more half-bloods. Their story is much more important to the plot than you think to realize.

The story really starts chugging full steam ahead by the end of this book, and although loose ends haven't been tied up yet, all the frays that are out there in the series are overlapping nicely.