whoa.

I can't believe how much I actually, seriously daydream about food in the course of a day.

And I can't believe how much I actually, seriously daydream about being outside when I'm in the office. Not anywhere special, but just outside.

Happy or sad? Who knows. It just is.

And then of course there's the mild drama that spices up my otherwise freezing and boring work day...

However, 1993 called and gave me its silver earrings, bright pink shirt and olive green loafer wedges outfit. Thanks, '90s! You're giving me lots of stuff lately...

some lunchtime reading.

"It is equally part of right thinking to reject decidedly any and every form of discrimination. Preconceptions of race, class or sex offend the essence of human dignity and constitute a radical negation of democracy. How far from these values we are when we tolerate the impunity of those who kill a street child; those who murder peasants who struggle for a minimum of justice; those who discriminate on the basis of color, burning churches where blacks pray because prayer is only white; those who treat women as inferior beings; and so on. I feel more pity than rage at the absurd arrogance of this kind of white supremacy, passing itself off to the world as democracy. In fact, this form of thinking and doing is far removed from the humility demanded by 'right' thinking. Nor has it anything to do with the good sense that keeps our exaggerations in check and helps us avoid falling into the ridiculous and the senseless.

"There are times when I fear that someone reading this...may think that there is no more place among us for the dreamer and the believer in utopia. Yet what I have been saying up to now is not the stuff of inconsequential dreamers. It has to do with the very nature of men and women as makers and dreamers of history and not simply as casualties of an a priori vision of the world."

-Paulo Freire, from Pedagogy of Freedom, page 41.

when the day is over, it's the end of the day.

-After work today, I went to the store and bought 4872398472 pop tarts. Why? I whisper jokingly to a hungry co-teacher as I munch on half a pop tart, "Well, fine, I'll just bring pop tarts for the whole class tomorrow." Then I hear, "OMG!!!!!! YOU'RE BRINGING POP TARTS FOR THE WHOLE CLASS TOMORROW?!" Hello, pre-teen freakout...

-Again, with the Marilyn Monroe moments as I walk down the street. How the hell am I always attracting the freak gusts of wind that blow my skirt up? Thanks, I've just flashed half of Spokane in the past two weeks...

-Cashier at Panda Express gazing at my chest. What? She's a lady. I think. And there ain't nothin to stare at on my chest.

-Fact: Whining=annoying. When grown men (and women) whine, it is called being a bitchass punk.

-I'm kind of excited about Mamma Mia. Yeah, take away my cool points. Didn't want 'em anyway.

Buh-ring it.

This weekend has been amazing. I took Friday off at the last minute and headed over to the west side for old roomie Stacey's wedding. I felt a little awkward at first, being one of only two people at the rehearsal and rehearsal dinner who weren't part of the wedding party. But I got to wear my red dress that I've been waiting to wear all summer, and I had a blast at the reception. Jackie and I concocted our robot high-five routine and also a highly (un)polished MCHammer dance. I was swung around and spun around by various groomsmen, and got to "slow" dance to Let's Get It On by Marvin Gaye (finally!).

I was hit on constantly with lines like, "You're beautiful. Hey... look at me... you're beautiful." Here's another clip from the weekend:

"Where do you live?"
"Spokane."
"Do you ever come to Bellingham?"
"No."
"Do you ever come to Oak Harbor?"
"No."
"If I asked you to come, would you?"
"No."
*disappointed face* "Why?"
"I have a boyfriend."
"Oh. That's okay... you hadn't met me yet."

It's the first time in my life that I've allowed the men to dance with me because it was one night, and they felt attractive and I felt attractive and I'm probably never going to see them again, so why not? I was entertained, and my favorite part of it all was the slow-motion drunk wink.

I loved it all. Between doing the YMCA and taking shots of diet Coke (certain other people believed I was doing shots of whiskey. I have a sneaking suspicion he was trying to liquor me up so he could bust a move, but I immediately danced away), and between being dipped and spun around (and getting stuck while being spun behind someone's back and flashing the entire reception), I felt the freest I've been in a long time.

I love these summer weekends of dancing and sunshine and sexy dresses.

important things.

1. christopher maloney=pure awesomeness. he's basically the only reason i allow myself to watch law&order:svu and not feel entirely guilty about myself.

2. do NOT, under ANY circumstances, let rice go bad. it is quite possibly the most disgusting thing i've ever seen/smelled in my life. forealz.

3. junior high kids are hard to read. i love 'em, they're special in my heart, but it is exhausting trying to figure out what will keep them engaged. i do have a student whose eyes are like blue diamonds. even though it's only day 2, i think she is one of my favorites.

4. even though it's only day 2 of summer school, i have genuine affection for each of my students and i can already tell what they're bringing to the table.

5. having no phone is odd. i feel strangely cut off from the world, but also strangely freed. my only regret is that i can't talk to mario. this is a bigger deal than one might think.

6. i need to start winking more. awkward fun.

ah youth.

yes, so in a fit of excitement, i tried to call my brother to tell him about the 52-year-old Japanese woman named Yoko who was gladiatoring on American Gladiator. (let's not ask why i was watching American Gladiator.) i was met with "emergency calls only ok" and brutal disappointment. my glee over a 52-year-old Asian badass was squashed by the realization that my phone has been "shut off" and a strange feeling one gets that is akin to the fright of someone taking away my birthday.

so now, i'm having flashbacks to two summers ago, when i was first out on my own. flatonmyassbroke 24/7, running up huge phone bills b/c i kept calling my best friends and talking for hours b/c i missed home, watching blind date into the wee hours of the morning, screaming fights with mario.

luckily, i've moved past most of this (i don't watch blind date anymore b/c i don't know where it's at, and even if i did, i probably don't get that channel). except for the phone bill thing... all i need now is to scrub my kitchen floor at 2am while crying hysterically and taking occasional rebellious smoke breaks on my porch.

man, cigarettes. you sound delish.

a minor epiphany: drum roll please.

you know you're some place strange in life when you'd rather be standing at a busy intersection wearing a blood drop costume in 96-degree heat holding a cardboard sign that says, 'Will dance for blood', listening to Wham! and Paula Abdul on a boombox from 1994 and doing the running man and other assorted dances.

yes, it's all true. i'd rather be doing that than sitting in the office. being spied on. and passive-aggressively attacked.