tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15191597148977760182024-03-21T16:11:55.409-07:00Say What?!Daily musings, ruminations, observations or tales. Just trying have fun while raising my three boys. My friends call me Lucy because I am always coming up with some hair-brained scheme. All I know, is you just have to laugh!Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger50125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1519159714897776018.post-26776458508726970322009-12-05T15:28:00.000-08:002009-12-05T15:45:34.727-08:00I'm Not Dead YetHello out there!<div>I bet you all thought I was...well...gone! I'm not. I have just been so darn busy. It's all good. </div><div><br /></div><div>I love my job! I work with wonderful girls (Catholic High School) and great faculty and staff. I could not ask for more.</div><div>I admit that I am not a morning person, so getting up early and getting there on time is a bit of a challenge, but I find myself staying hours after everyone has left, so that I can get my work done. </div><div>I am one one of those counselors who tells kids that I am busy, come back later. I am there for them NOW. I think one must be there for the kids in the moment, or how can we be effective?</div><div><br /></div><div>Anyway, I don't mind. I find that I do not take lunch breaks, either, but rather I eat lunch in my office as that is the time that the kids often come in to see me. I am aware that I need to be careful of burnout, so I will have to figure out a way to get a break at some point in the day. </div><div><br /></div><div>I think that once I have been here for at least a year, I will have figured out how to work it all out, break included. For now, I am still learning parts of the job and how it all works here. </div><div><br /></div><div>I know how lucky I am to work at this school. In fact, it was voted Best of the Bay in 2009 and Best place to work. Boy they were not kidding. It really is a good place to be.</div><div><br /></div><div>I realize that every place of employment may have one or two people that get on your nerves, but for the most part...well aside from one big blow out fight that I had with my dept head early on...hahaha, it's all good now...it really is a good place to work! We had one big fight, but I think it needed to happen. It is perfectly fine now. </div><div><br /></div><div>I am also in the process of high school applications for my oldest son. In San Francisco, that is a HUGE deal. The public schools here are not good, so we send our kids to Catholic or private schools. It is a huge ordeal and extremely competitive. Our kids compete with kids from all over the Bay Area for a spot in a SF private school...no matter how smart, talented, etc., the child, everyone freaks out. You must apply to at least 3 schools and see what happens. You may get into one or all three...or none. You find out in March. </div><div>So in addition to writing college letters of recommendation, I am doing this!</div><div><br /></div><div>Now I am off to my son's schools for yet another event! Just wanted to let you all know....</div><div>I am alive and kicking!</div><div><br /></div><div>L</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1519159714897776018.post-71941209634779174172009-05-23T19:47:00.000-07:002009-05-23T20:36:54.145-07:00Fingers Crossed That This Works!I have been trying to post in this thing for so long and it has not worked. I thought I would give it a try now as my luck has seemed to have changed as of late.<div><br /></div><div>Not sure if I was able to post when I landed my one day a week at a private school. It was a small thing, but it really helped. I loved the work and the people. Oh, I was the counselor. It is a job I had as an intern in graduate school and I loved it.</div><div><br /></div><div>Anyway, the school could not afford me more than one day a week (they gave me my asking price) so I ended up donating another day as I saw that they needed more time. I was happy to do it. </div><div><br /></div><div>One day a couple of weeks ago, I was at my Mom's house for some reason, just chatting with her and my Auntie Dell (her dear friend since high school) before I had to go pick up the boys from school and my cell phone rings. I looked at the number and thought, hmmm,that person called before and left no message, wonder who it was. Well,turns out it was the principal from a high school, where I have wanting to work. She told me that the position that I have been wanting is open and would I like to come in for an interview?</div><div><br /></div><div>OMG!!! I was so excited! I don't think I was able to contain it. We did chat for a moment. She explained that the position would entail college counseling as well as personal counseling. I told her that I had been looking into UC Berkeley's extension program for the college and career counseling certification. She told me that was not necessary. Really! Cool!</div><div><br /></div><div>When I got off the phone and told my Mom, I remember jumping up and down in excitement. Yay, I am that mature! But, you see, I have been wanting this position for two years...this exact one. </div><div>I went in to see the Assistant Principal one day when I was at the school attending the play with my son's class and asked her for a job. I went back later that day with my resume. I have been calling her and visiting her once in a while ever since.</div><div><br /></div><div>I knew her way back when. She was MY teacher. She was soooo young then. She is actually still pretty young. How that happened, I am not sure. I am going to have to get her to give me her secret. Anyway, I also went on a trip to Mexico with her for intercession. I will explain intercession later.</div><div><br /></div><div>So when I went for my interview, I was only nervous because it turns out it was a PANEL INTERVIEW!! I bomb those! Linda came to bring me in to the interview and said it was an informal round table. I told her how I hated panel interviews, that they make me nervous. She said, " Oh, me too! Remind me to tell you about MY experience some time!" I was so relieved by her words that I relaxed. Thank you, Linda!</div><div><br /></div><div>I was fine! There were five people. The principal (who is this amazing woman who sits on all these boards in the city. My principal at our school, who is a public figure in SF told me she is on a board with her at USF and that she is a brilliant woman. I am so glad Mrs. A didn't tell me all these things BEFORE the interview), two counselors ( one is a priest, but went through the same graduate program as I did at USF) and Linda, the Vice Principal, whom I turned to for comfort. I never thought Linda would be someone I turned to for comfort when I was a kid!</div><div><br /></div><div>I had to come back after to give Linda my transcripts and references. When I returned she handed me the sweatshirt I purchased (no, I am not a kissass, I love my high school and was going to buy one from my friend who is graduating and this was more convenient....REALLY!) I was talking to the drama teacher when Linda saw me and handed me my sweatshirt and she whispered in my ear, "That went really well!", referring ,of course,to the interview that had taken place an hour earlier.</div><div><br /></div><div>Fast forward a week.I was soooo nervous. I had not heard a thing. I knew they were still interviewing. I also knew they wanted to make a decision before the end of the school year. I was so nervous. Finally I get a call...damn...missed it while I was in the shower. I have to call back. The Principal does not give any clue by the tone of her voice in her message which way it went. I nervous calling back. </div><div>"Hello Laura, I am calling to....."</div><div><br /></div><div>Calling to what?...tell me that you went with another candidate? OMG! My job! I swear I thought that is where she was going. Her tone of voice sounded like that! BUT NO!!!!</div><div>She continued...</div><div><br /></div><div>".....offer you the position!"</div><div><br /></div><div>Yes, Yes, Yes. Came out of my mouth.</div><div><br /></div><div>So, I am the new counselor. I got it over 5 other people they told me. They see me as the dept. head in time, once I learn the technical aspects of the job, etc...couple years, I guess! </div><div><br /></div><div>I found an old lotto ticket in my purse today on the way to the gym...yup, it was a winner! I won a dollar. I was in 7-11 saying, " YES! I WON THE LOTTO!" Hey, a dollar is a dollar!</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Have a great weekend!</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1519159714897776018.post-12084719564597594752009-05-13T17:37:00.000-07:002009-05-13T17:38:58.502-07:00I can't write in this blog anymore..it won't let me!!!! Only in the Title area? WHY???Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1519159714897776018.post-86408438038999634692009-04-17T18:34:00.000-07:002009-04-17T18:59:21.913-07:00VacationJust a little quickie while the kids are having their picture taken by their photographer father.<div>It is Easter vacation for us and we have been having a lovely time.</div><div>First of all, my oldest boy turned 13 last week. I will write about that when I have more time. It was a little bit mind blowing for me.</div><div><br /></div><div>We have spent the week being tourists in our city. San Francisco is a fun city and we just don't get the chance to do the tourist thing...so we did it this week.</div><div><br /></div><div>We went to Stow Lake in Golden Gate Park and rented the paddle boat. That was so much fun. It was so beautiful. We often walk there, but have not rented a boat for many years. They used to have motor boats, and that is what we used to get. Now they have row boats and the paddle boats. When our hour was done we fed the ducks and sat on the shore where this older Japanese gentleman comes and feeds the huge carp and turtles. We sat near him and just watched. It was so peaceful and beautiful.</div><div><br /></div><div>Another day we took the street car with some friends to China Town and just roamed around all day. The kids were starving and I could not remember where the dim sum place was that we had gone to with the preschool. One does not usually to to China Town to eat, so I am not familiar with the restaurants, so I had to ask. We went into this little bakery/restaurant. It was a nothing, hole in the wall. The fool was mediocre at best. When the check came I thought it was a mistake....$139!!!!! YIKES! Next time, I will ask friends in advance and know where I am going!</div><div><br /></div><div>The next day, my sister-in-law and her kids came to the city from Novato and we went to Fisherman's Wharf and Ghiradelli Square. My oldest boy had a party to attend so all the boys decided to leave at about 3, which left my SIL, my 17 yr old neice and myself. We shopped and then went to Macy's in Union Square to find her a prom dress. I actually loved shopping for her. It was a lot of fun. When we finally got home, we ordered Chinese food, because they love it and she never gets up in Novato, and then she stayed until, oh, I don't know, midnight.</div><div>It would have been fine had I not had work the next day.</div><div><br /></div><div>Today was pretty mellow. I took the boys for haircuts. They were pretty scraggly. They two younger ones were SO mad at me. But they can't have long hair in their school. It is not uniform! NOT my fault boys! But I am glad all the same. They look great, even though they were soooo pissed. </div><div>After I took them to Noah's for some lunch, they seemed OK. I think they had low blood sugar, which is always a bad thing for my kids.</div><div>When we were done, I drove to the Haight. They did not want to get out, but I made them. I just wanted them to see the tourists and the cool stores. Once they walked into a store that had the coolest athletic shoes, they were sold! They loved it!!! Turns out, Mom was right. It was a pretty cool thing to do for an hour, afterall.</div><div><br /></div><div>My favorite part, I have to say, was when my oldest boy walked into one store that had all kinds of drug paraphernalia and looked around. As he walked out of the store, he says to me" That store is messed up, Mom!"</div><div>I said,"What do you mean?"</div><div>"It has all kinds of things..."</div><div>He was totally disgusted!</div><div>Yay! Drugs are stupid!!!!</div><div><br /></div><div>Tomorrow we are off to Sacramento for a basketball tournament and maybe our last rugby tournament, if we can fit it in. It will be a LONG weekend of sports with my boy. I will miss the other boys, but it is always nice to have a couple of special days with my oldest boy.</div><div><br /></div><div>XO</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1519159714897776018.post-34631910656603943662009-03-24T10:13:00.000-07:002009-03-24T15:19:14.060-07:00Stuff<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">I went to the faculty meeting yesterday to meet the teachers at the school where I will work one day a week. So, first of all, I thought I had it in the bag for next year, but then the principal says it is only guaranteed until the end of the year. This he says, really, to the teachers. The hell?</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">Alright. I am going to a job faire Sat. for the Archdiocese of SF Elementary schools. I am hoping to make some contacts for a position of some sort. We'll see. It will be swamped. So many people are looking for jobs right now. I missed the High School Job Faire two weeks ago for the Catholic Schools. I was pretty bummed about that as a job in high school would either lower my tuition or eliminate tuition for high school for my son in two years. Tuition is in the 18-20 something thousand a year range. So you see why I am desperate to find a job!</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">The 8th graders found out where they got in on Friday. It was a HUGE thing! In San Francisco the public schools are so bad that they really are not an option. There is only one public that is a college prep. Lowell High School. It is very difficult to get into. I am pretty sure my son has the grades for it, but he doesn't want to go there...course not. He wants either Saint Ignatius or Sacred Heart. He really wants to play sports and Sacred Heart recruits their players from two AAU team in particular and that is not his team, so he fears he will not be able to play basketball there. Maybe football, though. He plays rugby on one of the top teams, at least in the Bay Area, SF Golden Gate. Crazy Game, but he LOVES it!</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">Anyway, so now the kids have to ramp up their community service, make sure they do every extra everything, win every contest, get straight A's and then maybe, just maybe, they will get into 1 or 2 of the 3 or 4 schools they apply to.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">Our Principal was furious, I heard, and ranting, even at the last Women's Guild Meeting. A few kids only applied to two schools and did not get in to either. She had to go and fight to get them into a school. I can't believe it is so difficult for our children to get into our local schools. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">Perhaps if the peninsula kids went to their local schools and Marin kids went to their local schools and we did not hold a certain number of spots open for these kids and leave San Francisco kids out in the cold. I don't even want to get started on the athletic situation!</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">Done with my rant....for now!</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">Thanks for listening!</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">L</span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1519159714897776018.post-23578516164932504812009-03-18T09:21:00.000-07:002009-03-18T10:26:32.466-07:00Don't Think About Your Belly ButtonI really have learned that lesson well lately. You know where you try to think of other things, but you simply can't. You tell yourself to focus on other things and the only thing you can focus on are the things you are trying not to.<div><br /></div><div>I have also learned how when you are starving the only thing you think of is food. Oh, my hunger is not for food. It is for employment. It is for peace. It is for a situation where my children don't have to go without all the time.</div><div>I am so focused on those things that I am really boring and even I don't want to talk to me.</div><div>I have nothing else to say. </div><div><br /></div><div>Living each day in a panic is just not going to cut it.</div><div><br /></div><div>I do start working one day a week at the Armenian School. I am actually very stressed about that as I will be creating the counseling program out of nothing. Not that I can't do it. I am sure I can. I think I have been so depressed for so long that it even the simplest of tasks seems daunting....and this one is not really that simple. I need to think of everything necessary for this program to work. I feel as if the success or failure of it is on my shoulders. </div><div><br /></div><div>I am trying to figure out what I need legally at the moment and then what they need so I can go in there and seem like I have it somewhat together.</div><div><br /></div><div>Honestly, the job I a covet is at a Catholic High School. My former high school said I was the next therapist they would hire, BUT I am just waiting for someone to leave. I have been waiting since last year. I called the assistant Principal yesterday, who was one of my teachers all those years ago. I just wanted to keep the connection going and let her know that I still wanted that position. She said she was thinking about me and actually had a picture of me staring right at her in her office. You see, I was on a trip to Mexico that she chaperoned and the group photo was recently hung on the wall. Last year when I went to see, she had found that photo and showed it to me. It was one of those cool panorama ones. A bunch or silly girls!</div><div>Anyway, that job would be so sweet for several reasons, actually. First of all, I really want to work at an all girls Catholic High School...no, really I do! I really love that school and would love to work there. It is such a great school for girls. Secondly, I think that job would help me with high school tuition at at least one of the schools my son wants to attend in two years. The tuitions are like 20 thousand a year and, well, I am just screwed right now!</div><div>Oh, financial aid! He had to really start doing community service, like right this second, if he expects to get in with a tuition break. </div><div><br /></div><div>Before I end, I would like you know that I wrote this whole THANK YOU for all of your support. I thanked you for your kindness and generosity. I thanked those of you who emailed me over the months to check up on me. I just wanted to let you all know how much it meant it meant to me. Sadly, the entire post was lost when I hit publish and I was VERY frustrated. However, please know that I am very thankful to all of you for your kind support. It has really meant so much to me.</div><div><br /></div><div>xo</div><div>L</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1519159714897776018.post-13303640102976432322009-03-09T18:28:00.000-07:002009-03-09T18:53:14.578-07:00Crossing Harder!!!<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;">As I was driving my little guy to basketball today I get a call. I did not recognize the number so I thought I should answer it as I have so many calls out there to prospective employers. Turns out it was the Principal from the Armenian school. He apologized for not getting back to me sooner but reminded me that they were in the throes of their WASC accreditation. I had not forgotten and in fact, had told my mother about it when she asked me what happened to this job prospect.</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;">Anyway, he said if I was still interested he wanted me to start working one day a week next week. Sure, I'm in! </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;">Schools often have you either work two days a week or full time, which can be everyday. One day is really not much, but hey, it's a start.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;">The charter school director emailed me yesterday and told me that she is, in fact, opening up a position called Learning Support Professional. This position will be that of a case manager and counselor. If I am interested in the position I was to contact her. I called this morning and hope to hear from her soon. I know there would be many in line for this job, and she may already know who she wants in the position. Whatever, I want a chance to interview for it anyway.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;">The other good thing that happened today, but not in this order, occurred while I was at yard duty at my boys' school. The principal shocked me first by coming over to talk to me. I was really pleased by this act alone. She was really nice. Then when the topic of jobs came up I told her I was looking for a school to work in (she knows I am a therapist). She then told me to contact the archdiocese of San Francisco and that I should talk to a specific person and tell me what I do and what my credentials are so they can have my resume on file when a position opens up. She then volunteered to give me the number as soon as I was done at yard duty. When I went into the office, she was standing there holding a piece of paper with the number. I was so appreciative.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;">I have an interview in Marin tomorrow and I really don't want the job. Not only will I pay 5-6 (5 dollars with a fastpass/6dollars regularly) bucks a day to simply cross the GG bridge, but it is just not a job that I would ever want. Besides, I don't think I can have it if I am taking the school job. I suppose I will have to tell them I can only work 4 days. That might be enough to not get the job. I really just want the school counseling positions or something challenging. Not the job that I am interviewing for. We'll see. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;">I am going to be wearing every good luck charm I can find, and praying my little heart out!</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;">Hey wait, does that mean the undies I am wearing are good luck undies?</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;">Maybe it's my scarf....</span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1519159714897776018.post-22616447816924788642009-03-06T12:20:00.001-08:002009-03-06T12:48:04.239-08:00That Icky Feeling<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;">I know what it is, too. I feel like I'm walking through jello again...</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;">that feeling of anxiety just won't leave my chest or stomach</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;">I can't seem to get anything do</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;">I had hesitated to write about any of this because, well, frankly it is just so darn unpleasant. The truth is, my dear friends, I am not only in a really bad financial way, I am kind of stuck in a situation until I get my finances in order.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;">See Yasmin, I am not exactly divorced....yet. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;">I really should be...I really need to be.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;">I have not wanted to write this as I always feel like maybe someone reads this who is connected to my work, even in the past. Past clients do come back from time to time.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;">I cannot leave my marriage until I have the financial means to do so. Sadly, he drained any possibility of my doing that without my knowledge. He said I knew. Well, I didn't. He paid bills with everything we had and with our freaking line of credit. Oh, and the house belongs to me. He will sign it back over to me when the time comes.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;">Anyway, I will not go into why I think I married him now or why I married him. That is for a future post. For now I will say that he is very abusive, mostly emotionally. He goes for very long periods of time without speaking to me and will get the kids to ask me questions. I have asked him to stop putting them in the middle and to stop allowing them to see this, but he is too selfish and narcissistic to stop. He twists things so the kids think it is me who instigate situations. I almost don't care anymore, I just really want this marriage over. I am to the point of hatred. There are no more tender feelings left. None.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;">I am sure that once we are living separate lives for a while and he is no longer mean that I may soften up. That by no means means that I will have feelings for him again, it simply means that I will no longer harbor these hateful feelings which I find so destructive. I think that is why I am feeling so depressed. How can I not be depressed when I feel such anger when he walks into the house and treats me badly each and every day. His refusal to speak and when he does it always rude and mean.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;">He spent years working on destroying my self esteem and then had the gaul to say it was Me who damaged HIS self esteem. He used to tell my oldest child terrible things about me, like I was useless, basically, when the boy was only 3 years old, thus being abusive to both him and me. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;">I know I should not publish this post, but I feel like I must. I feel like I hide this from the world and I am so tired of it. I try to keep up appearances with most people in my community and so I never breathe a word of this. Only a few of my closest friends know how really bad the situation is. My mother also knows. She is actually the one who has said I have to stay until I get enough money to pay off some bills and take care of myself and the kids. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;">I guess I left some things out. My dear Husband is self employed. My mother purchased his second business, which he really didn't hustle enough at. Although he is talented, I think you can guess, he lacks some self-esteem. He could have made big bucks and didn't. He got us into huge credit card problems and got my mother to bail us out. I mean HUGE. I told her not to. Did I mention that she gave me/us this house? She was afraid of us losing the house. He promised to make payments on the loan she took out...but guess what...he couldn't. She might now lose her house in several years. He also maxed out the line of credit behind my back and our cards again. Why did I not work all these years? Because he said that he made so much money with each job and my work doesn't make as much and that I could work nights. I screwed myself by not working For someone as now no one wants me. That and the economy issue..I know.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;">Ok, so there is some of it. I need to get my kids out of this situation. They cannot be raised in this kind of home. I just have to find some sort of employment.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;">I just know that there is something better ahead...right?</span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1519159714897776018.post-15097309062393665672009-02-25T13:42:00.000-08:002009-02-25T17:06:49.379-08:00Crossing Everyingthing I Can!<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;">I am praying and crossing whatever I have to cross! I called my friend and former supervisor who told me that the Armenian School was looking or counseling support. Well, he told me of another school, a charter school, that is looking for a counselor. He spoke to the principal today and she said she did want to get someone in there. </span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;">He told her about me. I am not sure what she said after that but I do know that she inquired about interns. So he gave her the number to the lady who places the interns from the USF program where he works (where I went). She actually was in the program with me....used to be a principal and became a mft (marrige, family, child therapist).</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;">Anyway, Chris told me that she (the charter school principal...am I losing you yet?) gave him her email address for me to send her my resume. He said "GET ON IT NOW!!! Send it right now and make sure you spell check it!" </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;">He said that because I am pretty sure, that in my haste yesterday, I sent out a cover letter or two with mistakes. I came home and saw what was on the computer and freaked! I stuttered in the first sentence! OH. MY. GOD!!! I was trying to think of a way to reach back into the mailbox to retrieve them and correct them. The recipients are EDUCATORS!!! OH MY GOD! I just kept freaking out. But then I realized there is nothing I can do about it but move on. That and do better next time!</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;">OK, so, I emailed my cover letter and resume to that lady and am now praying. Praying HARD! She said she wanted a full time counselor. That would be so perfect. I need a full time job. They really would do better to have an experienced therapist in there rather than an intern. I am not just saying that because I need the job, but really, if they could do it, it would be best to have both, but for the sake of continuity. Otherwise, they are replacing the counselor EVERY year. I know! I was an intern in a school. I think it can actually be disruptive in a school community to have people coming in and out. Children really need stability. That is so important. I could go on....but I won't.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;">I just want to thank you all for your sweet comments. They are like warm hugs.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;">I have missed you all my dear friends!</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;">xo</span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1519159714897776018.post-90245312210835313042009-02-24T16:04:00.000-08:002009-02-24T16:36:24.407-08:00Remember Me?I feel like I have been gone for so long. <div>I guess you can tell that I tend to isolate when I am stressed out and depressed. I don't think it is a thing to do...but it is what I do. I really need to learn to reach out. So much of my life is out of whack at the moment. Some things can be put back together, and sadly some can't, really.</div><div><br /></div><div>Ok, let's start from where I left off. I have sent out hordes of resumes and cover letters and even gone on a couple of interviews. I was terribly over qualified for the two jobs I interviewed for and still did not land them. I do not know if that is why I did not get them, but it only served to squash my self-esteem that much more...sigh.</div><div>I applied for any and every job on the internet. One person even called me and said..."Well, Ok, maybe you can have this job, but you over qualified. How about I put you in for this other position?" Well, I never heard back from the person in charge of the "other" position. It really was alright, though, because the job would have taken me very, very far from home and very late at night. I don't think I could have done it with three kids. Well, not easily. </div><div><br /></div><div>Today I went to talk to a principal of a school. I have worked in schools before and really enjoy that work. I have wanted to get back into the schools for a very long time, but had really hoped to find a job where I might make money and get health benefits. I don't that is going to happen so I had better start rethinking and doing what I do and what I love. I love working with kids and families. I feel like I am all over the place, so I will try to stay focused here....sorry.</div><div>Anyway, he was really nice and very, very interesting. He wants to have a counselor in the school and was interested in what I can offer them.</div><div><br /></div><div>After a two hour meeting, we decided I would begin by working one day a week. The school is really quite small (112 kids - it is preschool through 8th grade....private school) and has some budget issues as well. I was fine with that. I just need to get another school or two and then I will be fine. If I can get two or three schools plus a few private clients in the evenings, I will be OK. </div><div><br /></div><div>I need to be able to pay insurances, the house bills and tuition. I am so stressed about my oldest boy going to highschool the year after next. I have no idea how I will pay for it.</div><div>His father you ask? Don't even get me started! </div><div><br /></div><div>I am going remember to breathe and continue to do what I am doing. I am going to plug away at this until I find enough work to support myself and my children. Mom might just be right. Today may have been the beginning of things going a new way. </div><div><br /></div><div>I feel as if I have been gone so as not to bitch and moan at you all. I have been nothing but desperate. You know that feeling where a cry is right there in your throat? It is not exactly a cry but somewhere between a cry and a scream and a groan or something. That feeling of desperation. I am becoming more clear on the steps to take now, but grow impatient waiting to take them. It seems that something always has to happen before the step can be taken. Does that even make sense? I am more of a "just get off your butt and get it done" kind of a person".</div><div>I am not very good at waiting or being patient. I like to know the ends of movies before I see them. I guess what I am saying, in essence, is that I like to be in control of my life and when I am not it just makes it that much worse. I am not a control freak or anything, I just hate being out of control for extended periods of time that this.</div><div><br /></div><div>I guess I had better go do some Mom things now. </div><div>Thank you for listening. Please know that it means a great deal to me.</div><div>xo,</div><div>Laura</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1519159714897776018.post-65846353897253827192008-11-12T09:10:00.000-08:002008-11-12T09:25:11.410-08:00Tremendous StressI have not been around much lately due to, well, tremendous stress. I am trying very hard to do what needs to be done to get past his difficult time. I know many people are going through similar hard times. I tend to isolate when I feel this much stress. I am not much into talking or sharing it. I become a bit incapacitated, unfortunately, and I am fighting that. I try each day to figure out what need I need to do to make things better.<div><br /></div><div>I think the toughest nugget here is the financial one. </div><div>I think I have to find a day job. I have had the luxury of staying at home with my kids during the day and working in the evenings since I delivered my first premature baby. Now, however, that just won't cut it. We are not making it. Yikes! This economy sucks pond water!</div><div><br /></div><div>Not that I didn't think this day would come, I did. Especially living in an expensive city. We have gone through some rough patches before. Neither one of us have recession proof jobs. As a matter of fact, our jobs get cut out when times are hard. </div><div><br /></div><div>So, I am just praying hard that something good happens soon. When I say things are bad, I mean bad. </div><div><br /></div><div>I went to look at the location of a job I was going to apply for. I took the kids with me for a quick ride after school yesterday. When we got there, the kids begged me not only to get the heck out of that area, but to NOT apply for it as it was in a really bad area of town. I had no idea that just over that hill things got that bad. My oldest boy said he knew from YOUTUBE. Kids!</div><div>My cop friend told me I was not to apply for a job on that street, but I had to look for myself. She was right.</div><div><br /></div><div>So now, back to the drawing board.....and praying!</div><div><br /></div><div>I look forward to having some time to visit all of your blogs again. I miss you!</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1519159714897776018.post-51118389005669544142008-11-05T13:30:00.000-08:002008-11-05T14:20:37.082-08:00HypocritesOK, come on, this is California, people! How on earth did proposition 8 pass in THIS state?<div>Yes, I'm bitter. I am reading the hate letters now, well I stopped as it sickened me. I could not believe what I was seeing. We vote Obama in by a landslide and we can't allow people who love each other to have the rights to marry as everyone else...what? One step forward, one step back in this state, I'm afraid.</div><div><br /></div><div>I just don't understand the hypocrisy. How does this affect anyone else's quality of life? How would it affect, in a negative way, anyone's taxes? I looked to see if there were any reasons why people would conceivably not vote pass this from a financial perspective, and I found none. </div><div><br /></div><div>I know I don't usually talk about politics, but come on, I am just so ashamed of the people in this state. </div><div><br /></div><div>I have been thinking about tolerance lately as it applies to many things, mostly political differences/ideas, and one would think/ hope we would have tolerance, but I just don't see it. Here in SF you are expected to think ONE WAY. Heck, I read several blogs yesterday and was instructed to leave or something along those lines if I did not vote for Obama. Oh and that was on the heels of instructing readers to go vote. I get that that was a joke, sort of, but by the same token, we also know that there is at least a grain of truth in all jokes.</div><div><br /></div><div>I don't tell people what to think or feel and I resent others telling me, or even threatening with bulling tactics. So, what, I can't play with you/read your blog if I am not of like mind? Bummer!</div><div><br /></div><div>Rant over.</div><div><br /></div><div>Sorry people, it has really been fueled by living here in SF. There is zero tolerance for difference. Believe it or not. </div><div><br /></div><div>I have a magnet on my fridge, which I bought in New Orleans, which reads, Be Nice or Leave. </div><div>I don't think it's too much to ask.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1519159714897776018.post-65599584892732979782008-11-04T09:37:00.001-08:002008-11-04T10:02:48.305-08:00Spoke to the MomFirst of all, I want to thank all of you for your kind support. Your thoughtful advice, words or wisdom and support mean so much to me. I just wanted to let you know.<div><br /></div><div>I wish it didn't have to be on Halloween, but I never see the Mom at school. I am there all the time as I volunteer for everything. I have to catch her when I can. That being said, I caught her when I could and we had a little chat. She was quite glad I informed her of what was going on and of what others were saying, etc.. Her daughter came over right in the middle of our talk. She has a bit of attitude, that one!</div><div><br /></div><div>My son also saw us speaking, and asked me what I said. I told him and he was fine with it. Seemingly. He knew I HAD to tell them about the "red flags" for emotional issues/suicide that emerged in the emails. NO ifs ands or buts. We also discussed that this could simply been teen girl drama, but it was not my place to make that call. He really is reasonable and mature kid.</div><div><br /></div><div>Poor kid emailed her all weekend with no reply. I had to finally tell him that she was most likely restricted from the internet. I was expecting him to be a little bit mad at me, but nope.</div><div><br /></div><div>On Mondays I do Yard Duty at school during lunch time. The girl made it a point to not look at me. That's fine. She has a bit of a 'tude. After school I asked my son how things went for her and for them. He said she got yelled at for 3-4 hours. I questioned that... The yelled at part and he said, "Yeah, it was probably just a talk."</div><div>I could not imagine parents yelling at their kid for being intense or emotional. I just can't. Not these people. He also said she was not allowed to be on the internet" until, like, the end of the year." I said, that is just next month. He had forgotten that it was not long at all.</div><div>He went on to say that she was not telling him how she feels about him or her emotions. I said it sounded like she is cooling it down a little bit. He actually sounded relieved.</div><div><br /></div><div>As he left for school this morning he called out, "Bye Mom, I love you!"</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1519159714897776018.post-87619527102370190602008-10-30T17:24:00.000-07:002008-10-30T17:35:36.804-07:00Oh The Drama!<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;">I remember what it was like being 12 or 13 and thinking I knew everything, but geez! I am so drained by these kids. My poor, naive boy has this girlfriend. It is so intense and so beyond what it should be at their age that he needs to be rescued. That is where I am now. I am putting an end to it. He is really pretty good about it all, but it hurts. She is very dramatic, and frankly, saying things to him that I may have to tell her parents. I am pretty sure it is intended for the dramatic effect, but I cannot take that chance as it borders on dangerous to her safety.</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;">My poor kid cannot be her everything in the 7th grade. It is supposed to be fun and light. He cannot be the only one she can talk to. If her life is indeed this complicated, as she indicates, at this age, she needs professional help, not his help. He can't help her. He is neither trained, not mature enough. Her parents really need to know the things she is saying.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;">The thing that really got my hackles up was that no one would even notice if she were no longer here. That was in response to his telling her I wanted them to cool it off. Manipulative or troubled or ....I don't know. It is her parents' issue. I really think they need to be made aware of all of this.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;">I am not sure if increasing my Topamax and dealing with this drama together has just wiped me out. With the change of weather, my legs just kill. I upped my meds in response. Anyway, I am drained and am finding it hard to function. I just realized that perhaps the increase in the meds has something to do with that too. Hmmm.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;">I feel so sorry boys today is all I can say. </span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1519159714897776018.post-10226777461189268072008-10-27T18:49:00.000-07:002008-10-27T23:15:06.908-07:00Try OutsSoccer season is almost over and basketball is about to begin. I love basketball! I have to say, the boys are very good at both sports. My little guy made 11 goals on Saturday. My middle guy, the coach says, is the power kicker on his team, and my oldest has emerged as really the star of the his team. Personally, soccer stresses me out. Not sure why, it just does. <div><br /></div><div>I love basketball. I understand basketball. OK, I spent much of last year involved in my oldest boys club club/traveling basketball team. He had no less than two, usually three or more games plus practices each week. So I really got into it. </div><div><br /></div><div>Today we had tryouts for two of the boys' CYO teams. My youngest guy still plays for YMCA as CYO begins in 3rd grade. CYO divides the teams up into A and B teams. In our school, in the third grade, we tend to divide them up more evenly and not really do A and B. But as it turned out, it looks like we have most of the "A" players on one team. They are calling it the "Apples" and "Oranges" team this year. This is new. Our Athletic Director is new this year, hence the teams being named after fruit. Actually, I like it because the kids, theoretically, will not feel badly about where they end up this first year. Uh, not so. There was HUGE drama with one of my friend's friend...well, my friend, too.</div><div>Her kid did not get on the "Oranges"team with our kids and he is soooo upset. So is she. She has a bunch of other kids at that school, he is not the first, good GOD she should be done with this sort of drama. But, he is upset, she is upset.</div><div>Turns out the really good players are all on the "Oranges" team and when we were leaving this kid, who is on that team remarked, "the orange team is the A team!" </div><div><br /></div><div>I think he may be right, but there are some decent players on the other team as well. It is just that the REALLY good ones happen to have been put on one team. The kids figured it out really fast. </div><div><br /></div><div>Here is the thing, though, the other schools will have A and B teams and will expect us to as well. We will be up against those teams and it is VERY competitive. I know it is supposed to be fun, and it is, but it is intense too, because at some point some of these kids want to play in high school and college. </div><div><br /></div><div>Anyone watch basketball? Rob Jones from the University of San Diego went to our school. We have had other athletes come out of here, but no one who is on T.V. presently. Oh, there was someone from this past olympics, but I have no idea who, it was before our time. Anyway, I don't know if it is as crazy everywhere, but it is here.</div><div><br /></div><div>All I meant to tell you was that today was tryouts.</div><div><br /></div><div>I was told that my oldest boy is also on the "A" team. I had no doubt about Christiaan as he has always been on the "A" team and is one of the best players in the class. </div><div><br /></div><div>As much as my kids love soccer, I will not be too sad to see it end. The only part that makes me sad is that my boys come home so proud after a game well-played. They just LOVE it!</div><div>I hope they have the same experience this year with basketball. I just prefer watching the game so much more. I prefer the pace. It does not frustrate me....as much and, like I said, I understand it!</div><div><br /></div><div>I also can't wait for the college and NBA games to start!</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1519159714897776018.post-27150723133569325732008-10-26T13:05:00.000-07:002008-10-26T16:01:58.921-07:00Good Day Sunshine!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtAiH0kwlamg4FAwPvnSgRr0A4E6IbrHDeYKoKdfNz_axTTLIrJMB0m1vaa7zbFpogDl9rR3anQbNjwAvBwJnoTjQ0S1MuQUmCrz80bjIGEjxq1F3xdUaqJQKc1sFG_hX_eN2hZkfNGbfV/s1600-h/background_sunshine.png"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 355px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtAiH0kwlamg4FAwPvnSgRr0A4E6IbrHDeYKoKdfNz_axTTLIrJMB0m1vaa7zbFpogDl9rR3anQbNjwAvBwJnoTjQ0S1MuQUmCrz80bjIGEjxq1F3xdUaqJQKc1sFG_hX_eN2hZkfNGbfV/s400/background_sunshine.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261557579558433266" /></a><br /><div><br /></div><div>We have had the most beautiful weather for the past two weeks. The sun has been blazing and the temps have been in the high 70's and low 80's. I love sunny days. I actually really love the heat. The hotter the better. It makes my body feel good. I have fibromyalia, so for me, the heat works. It is when the temps dip, or rather the barometric pressure dips and there is even the slightest moisture in the air, I ache.</div><div><br /></div><div>Well, I woke up today, and my sunshine was gone. I am sure if I go into another neighborhood, I can find it. We have many micro climates in San Francisco. Although we have a tiny little city, each neighborhood has its own climate. But, I am not planning on going into one of the little valleys or farther away from the coast, so I will have to deal with the fog today.</div><div><br /></div><div>Yesterday was the little craft fair I told you I was participating in. It was a bit of a bummer, but I am going to help them next time, if I can. My items, priced at $15 - $ 220 were simply too expensive at this venue. I know what to bring next time. My jewelry was wholesale priced and received raves and compliments, but people were not there to buy more upscale items. They wanted soap or lower priced things in the $2-$15 range. I also brought my Propanels, which probably overwhelmed people. Other vendors had only a small card table. They asked me to return and I agreed as I know what I would bring and what to make for this crowd. The organizer has never done this before and asked if I could offer her some feedback as I have started and run these fairs like this before. </div><div>The reason why she knew about my fair is that this was a sister school to my children's old school. </div><div><br /></div><div>I am planning to do a couple of small events in the near future, but a couple of my friends really want to do a private show. One lady is a fine artist, one a photographer who does the most amazing cards from all over the world. I have never seen photo cards this beautiful in my life. Seriously. These are special. </div><div><br /></div><div>Yesterday was not a total bust, but I usually do really well at fairs, so it is disappointing when I don't. Honestly, I had a nice time hanging out with friends and talking to people. Ohhhhh, and I bought stuff, too! I got these cool leaf shaped ceramic thingies to put your tea bags on...cool! I got some cool thank you cards, well post cards that were embossed, some beautiful gold wire crocheted earrings, and some soaps and bath salts from a friend. </div><div><br /></div><div>On another front, I talked to the assistant principal at the high school I went to. She was one of my teachers. We actually went to Mexico together for intercession one year. There MAY be a position opening up next March, even temporarily, in the counseling department. I really want a day job there as I love working with girls that age in my private practice and I love that school so it works out well.(I currently only work at night) I would be the next one hired, they just need to figure out if they are going to cover the position internally or with an outside person. The head counselor is pregnant with her first child. I am kind of hoping she decides to stay home to raise the baby, but in this economy and in this city, it is unlikely. </div><div><br /></div><div>The assist. principal knows that I do not know much about the whole college thing, but rather I am a psychotherapist. She likes that I have that emphasis and says that I can learn about college placement, etc. by taking classes and seminars. She likes having a balance at the school. What I like is that I would learn the ins and outs of college applications, deadlines, etc.. I have one going to high school(kind of) soon, so I need to know this stuff. </div><div>Yes I went to college....and graduate school. I did a pre med program in between, but things are so different now. It is a whole new world out there!</div><div><br /></div><div>I realize I just blathered on, for which I apologize. I am exhausted beyond belief and think I need two days of sleep or perhaps an adjustment in my meds! </div><div>Have I mentioned the Hashimotos for which I take a bucket of meds? Yeah, we are suppressing my thyroid intiredly. So between the FMS and the Hashi's and whatever else they think is going on, I have a small pharmacy in my kitchen. </div><div>I guess tired results in disclosure for me.<br /><br />I hope you all had a great weekend!</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1519159714897776018.post-61934070650327743092008-10-23T15:36:00.000-07:002008-10-23T16:02:20.685-07:00Now I Know How Anita Hill Felt *this entry is rated pg-13Today I was helping to set up the book fair at school and what should I find on the plastic table cloth I was using to cover a box to make my display? Oh come on, are you going to make me say it? Think Clarence Thomas and coke can. Yes, that's right, folks, a big, black pube! I was so grossed out! Do you think I was able to keep this little curly to myself? Oh, heck no! This could only happen to me! No one else in that entire school would be molested by a giant pubic hair. NO, just ME.<br />I ended up laughing so hard, after I shared this little fact with everyone in the library~sort of accidently. Thank goodness our principal was not in there.<br />Next thing I know, I pick up a tin of what looked like mints and offered it to my friend ( who describes me as Ally McBeal to some people...thanks Fiona! ) and another volunteer, who was really quite serious. Fiona busted out laughing while the other lady very politely said, "No thank you."<br />The mints were in fact little tacks with white balls on the end. Oh my goodness, what if that nice lady had said YES? I would have really felt awful! Would she have understood that I was just kidding? You know, they really did look like mints. I was merely pointing out the obvious...that anyone could make that mistake and that they should move the tin. It is a school, after all!<br />So, I guess the moral of this story is, I really should not leave the house if I have had a migraine for two days and have not slept very much in the past two days. It makes me pretty stupid!<br /><br />By the way, thank you for reading the loooong winded post from yesterday. I guess I just had to get it off my chest.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1519159714897776018.post-88751480344999448442008-10-22T08:26:00.000-07:002008-10-22T11:12:18.885-07:00Harvest FairI have been working my butt off, making jewelry for a harvest fair/holiday boutique, which will take place this Saturday.<br />I have not made anything since last year. I did make some designs at a studio where I was studying under some amazing artists, but nothing I would be willing to sell.<br />Anyway, I was told to include some lower priced pieces to my current collection as that is what will sell...usually does!<br /><br />I have created and run several holiday boutiques myself. I really enjoy doing them, especially if they benefit a cause I believe in or a school that my children attend. I don't quite know what happened, but the one I started at my children's school has been discontinued and no one had to decency to tell me. I am currently getting calls from vendors that I must field and tell them that there is no boutique this year. I wish I could explain more, both here in this blog and to my vendors, but I do not wish to have any more problems at my boys' school. <br /><br />Let me explain, well just a little bit, anyway. I ran this boutique. It grew and grew. People started to come from all over and really looked forward to it. This was not the first of its kind that I have started, but it was the one I was still running. The person in charge of our school never really wanted me to do it in the first place. Why? Don't know. It brings money into our private school. No one does anything in preparation for it but ME, so no sweat off anyone else's nose. It was simply profit. It was good profit for the school. I brought in more money for the school in one day than the book fair does in a week. I also added a bake sale last year. I had a raffle. I even fed the vendors. I took care of everyone. Everyone loved it.<br />Oh, right, I almost forgot, how they finally took me down.<br />The Women's Guild Presidents and I talked about adding in some holiday cheer by selling Irish Coffee. After all, the other Catholic schools do it. We had a alcohol permit and everything. <br />Another person suggested a wine and cheese tasting, or more accurately, she pushed for it. She is friends with another one of our parents who owns several beautiful cheese boutiques and another of my friends got the wine donated.<br /><br />OK, so now I wrote up all the proposed changed and additions to the boutique as instructed by the presidents, whom I have known for many years. One of them is sort of related to me by marriage...sort of. Both of them went to my high school, but different years. Anyway, just wanted to stress the connections. I handed to one of the ladies right at the bell one afternoon.<br />She is a busy woman as she has two boys, was WG president that year, a very demanding job, and is a teacher's aid in the first grade classroom. I had always thought of her as one of the nicest women I had ever known. I once told my mother that I may know someone nicer than her! Just kidding of course!<br />Anyway, two days before the event, the other pres. told me to send the head of the school an itinerary of the day. So, I did, thinking it was be old new. I was in the art room making signs and I started getting calls from the secretary about each block of time. The blocks she was questioning most had to do with alcohol. Okie dokie, then. Why did you have us get an alcohol permit if you didn't know what was going on? But this kept going on and on so I went home and got the original letter from my laptop and typed out a quick note that basically read what must have happened. It was as follows...<br /><br />Basically I was told to print this out, give it to the WG president and she would give it to you upon her approval. I realize I should not have given it to her at the end of the day, it was bad timing on my part. She has so much on her plate so I understand why you didn't receive it.<br />However, this is why I thought you knew what we had planned.<br />No disrespect intended....ever.<br /><br />Laura <br /><br />I know now that I should not have said anything about giving it to that lady, but I told her what I told the princiPAL...(not in this case). I just thought that honesty was the only way to go and that is EXACTLY what happened.<br />Well, she immediately called those two into her office, not me of course, because it is a divide and divide sort of regime over here, and said," What the hell is this?" I think she may have called it bullshit or something like that. Mind you, this woman comes with some power as her father was a well-known politician. She loves power. Fun for us! Yippie. Both women said, they had never seen it before. Thanks biotches! That is just what I needed! That is when all the fun began!<br />Things went downhill from there for me and the boys at school. <br />First of all, head of school came in and ranted at the vendors for their parking at the start of the boutique. Nice! Then, instead of supporting it, like she usually does, by purchasing things, she came in and told me off! She decided that the best time to have a conversation about the alcohol, etc. was when I was selling jewelry. What the....<br />She stood there, in her too tight, too short skirt and snowman sweater, manic with rage telling me off in front of all of my vendors and potential customers. I stood there thinking how surreal this all was.<br />She was going on and on about how we do not have alcohol at events where there are children. <br /><br />Whoa, stop right there lady! First of all, this was a grown up event, secondly, we have people getting HEATED at spaghetti bingo right in front of you as well as pancake breakfast . Ah, next week was pancake breakfast, they were planning mimosas, gin fizzes and Santa Clause! So I decided to ask the question....innocently!<br /><br />"What about pancake breakfast?!<br /><br />*crickets*<br /><br />I could now feel her cold, blue eyes boring holes into me. I had to look away. I thought I was a gonner!<br />Her voice became very low, almost as if possessed and she said, "ASK FATHER"<br /><br />I said very cheerfully and innocently and not skipping a beat that I really have no interest in alcohol that I was just curious. <br /><br />Well, I don't really recall how this exchange ended, she flew out of the room and one of my vendors came up to me to make sure I was OK. I really was. Until after the event. This woman was awful to me AND to my children.<br /><br />She would not acknowledge my children for the rest of the school year nor would she acknowledge me. Well, that is not entirely true. She saw one of my boys' teachers talking to me. We were actually talking about jewelry repair. She had earrings to give me or a pendant or something that required fixing, don't remember. Well, what happened was she was summoned to the office by another teacher. She was questioned about our conversation and promptly instructed NOT to speak to me. Said teacher nearly quit on the spot. As it turns out she ended up quitting months later along with four other teachers....hmmmm.<br />Anyway, head of school (HOS) said I was bad-mouthing the school and I was not to be trusted or spoken to!<br /><br />Whaaaa...<br /><br />I had just recommended out school to a friend who transfered in from another school. What on earth could she be talking about?<br /><br />This was the craziest thing I had ever heard. Not only had I NOT bad mouthed our school, but I was talking it up!<br />Our HOS can not go around BAD MOUTHING ME just because I called her on something. I am so sorry I asked about the alcohol, but I really didn't understand, and neither did anyone else. It was everyone's question. I was just the idiot who asked it.<br /><br />So, I have spent the last year being punished. In addition, one of last years' presidents no longer even looks my way. Whatever!<br />All this because I tried to make money for our school!<br /> I did this NO HELP from anyone else until the day of the event, mind you. <br />All planning and preparations were done by me...alone.<br /><br />It had grown into this thing of beauty. And now it has been quietly banished. Punishment for speaking up? Punishment for something.<br /><br />So this year I am back to selling at other events and not breaking my butt to put on this event that HOS never wanted in the first place. I think she thinks I was benefitting from it. Truth be told, I lost money as I underpriced my items and I was one of the only people to actually give the full percentage of sales.<br /><br />Wow, I thought I was going to just talk about the fact that I was making jewelry after a year's break. I had no idea I would tell the story. <br /><br />So, when I sat down, I thought I had lost my creativity. I was so bummed as I thought I let HER take something from me. But even through a migraine, or should I say, migraine meds, once I got started, I cranked out some things that I am really proud of. In fact, I would like to keep a few, but I know I need to put them in the show.<br /><br />If hubby gets them photographed, I can try to show a couple.<br /><br />Did I ever mention that he is a commercial photographer? The pics will not be done in the studio as there is no time, he will do them here at home...sigh. I will leave that rant for another time.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1519159714897776018.post-14308511071326415302008-10-18T12:15:00.000-07:002008-10-18T15:30:53.557-07:00Got a Song Stuck in My Head!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUdwF3RlaaHjXie3QDSrH7APmbBup1wuKHBQafmGJxKw40FEErRRXNP_WBRJHn9trq0I_iW_l7pH55gTPhTX1ghZTgLgkT1tGNI5yd-P9Ps_mphE578jVePHgph-D-2S2_rmraqOkrJi4v/s1600-h/14617.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUdwF3RlaaHjXie3QDSrH7APmbBup1wuKHBQafmGJxKw40FEErRRXNP_WBRJHn9trq0I_iW_l7pH55gTPhTX1ghZTgLgkT1tGNI5yd-P9Ps_mphE578jVePHgph-D-2S2_rmraqOkrJi4v/s400/14617.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258576926895644226" /></a><br /><div><br /></div><div>I don't know, maybe it was the concert the other night...maybe it was seeing all the posters at the Warfield that jogged some memories of London. I saw some great shows there in the late 80's. I remember one of my flatmates wanted to go see the Violent Femmes and the Cramps. They were both playing at small venues. We would go to these great little places and see great little concerts. Oh, we did see Sting at the Royal Albert Hall near where we lived, though That was no small show!.</div><div>Anyway, I have been thinking about those days and my flatmates lately. </div><div>I did not end up going to see the Violent Femmes or the Cramps.</div><div>I only knew that one song....which keeps going through my head now...Blister in the Sun.</div><div>Maybe after listening to it on Youtube and writing this, I will have exorcised it.</div><div><br /></div><div>I did not go to shows I was unfamiliar with because I preferred to theater. I LOVE theater. I went to the theater so much in London. Sometimes I even went alone. If I could not get someone to go with me, I didn't care, I would trot right down and find something I was interested in and go alone.</div><div><br /></div><div>Speaking of songs stuck in my head...wanna hear something kind of mean? Sure you do!</div><div>When I was in between degrees, I went to SFState with a couple of friends. </div><div>During breaks we would meet up for lunch or just hang out for a while. One friend, Aggie, I went to highschool with. Well, just before it was time to go back to our respective classes I would start to sing some really obnoxious song..."Get down boogie oogie oogie" or something that was catchy like that. We would always meet up again in an hour or two and she would be SO mad at me! She had been humming that tune since we parted.Ha ha!</div><div>Mean, huh? I used to think it was really fun to torture my friends that way.</div><div><br /></div><div>Any tune stuck in your head?</div><div><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1519159714897776018.post-43275924106910712712008-10-17T11:55:00.000-07:002008-10-17T12:19:05.255-07:00Focus Group....Yum!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8qtwmkHRXQJIqGiNwdK9k5OOKuf8DMOqLUCVb-oy97BIN_zz2ANzWOfJ2VZBMw_X2NClNjOPdS23ay-gs-eHuiivhmf8JzqyxNTPJpbTEQfqip6QzfTob-ujaqyOiLMQ05N3OK9P81y39/s1600-h/englishteastore_2022_830867.jpeg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8qtwmkHRXQJIqGiNwdK9k5OOKuf8DMOqLUCVb-oy97BIN_zz2ANzWOfJ2VZBMw_X2NClNjOPdS23ay-gs-eHuiivhmf8JzqyxNTPJpbTEQfqip6QzfTob-ujaqyOiLMQ05N3OK9P81y39/s400/englishteastore_2022_830867.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258199497791605218" /></a><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Last night I participated in a focus group where we tasted, you guessed it, McVitie's newest product for the American market. They are marketing this product to American women, to be more specific. If you have never participated in a focus group, then you may not know that you are not told at first what the product actually is and who is the manufacturer.They were testing the flavors, the advertising slogan and the new name. </div><div><br /></div><div>I found it quite interesting, in hindsight, that I actually liked the product better (and the proposed name) AFTER learning who the manufacturer was. I frankly did not care for this cookie/cracker, fruity, energy, healthy snack thing they had developed. Mostly it was cardboardy and chewy. I LOVE me some Hob Nobs and Digestives, though! I lived in London for a year and during that time grew to think of these little lovelies as comfort food.</div><div><br /></div><div>I love doing focus groups. I love that I got to go downtown, it was hot and beautiful last night and I got paid $85 to eat cookies! Ha ha, it doesn't get better than that!</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1519159714897776018.post-9414737549403398532008-10-16T22:53:00.000-07:002008-10-16T23:38:00.161-07:00We've Been Stepping Out<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDud7nAE0X8C_C8OXnIzrxPTMk11RpzxSZDpuLqQS0NtxblJw-TJnrE5w2jU05q-GpY2HvD_NGy8GtWEPo0xpDc1SOATaKieOzdsOJ8a4iT6IFayrIxIPKgezuXhCRJC-VW4gKr1g-RYVv/s1600-h/scaled.music_JoeJackson1.jpeg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDud7nAE0X8C_C8OXnIzrxPTMk11RpzxSZDpuLqQS0NtxblJw-TJnrE5w2jU05q-GpY2HvD_NGy8GtWEPo0xpDc1SOATaKieOzdsOJ8a4iT6IFayrIxIPKgezuXhCRJC-VW4gKr1g-RYVv/s400/scaled.music_JoeJackson1.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257998214323270018" /></a><br /><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:verdana;font-size:18px;">Hubby surprised me with tickets to Joe Jackson at the Warfield Theater on Market Street. To be honest, it was really a show that he wanted to see, but I like Joe Jackson, too. The Warfield is a great venue, I have seen some fun shows there, like the Grateful Dead and most recently, Carlos Mencia.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:verdana;font-size:18px;">I was kind of in a funky mood and not at all in a concert mood. I love concerts, mind you. I love all live performances. My mother and I had season tickets to SF Ballet since I was 13 because I danced from the time I was 5. My mom has had season tickets to the SF Opera for the last 40 some odd years as well. Oh, and theater, oh how I love, love, love the theater. That is by far my favorite form of entertainment ever!</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:verdana;font-size:18px;">Oh, but I was at the concert, right.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:verdana;font-size:18px;">We were getting into the line and I looked around at the other concert goers. It was the whitest, oldest concert I can remember attending, maybe ever. Oldest, for sure. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:verdana;font-size:18px;">Save for the odd child with their parents, I would say the average person there was, oh, I don't know, somewhere between 45 and 55. I was feeling pretty good...until we got inside.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:verdana;font-size:18px;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:verdana;font-size:18px;">Once inside, a guy asks us if we would be drinking this evening, and we said we would. (I almost never drink, but I thought a cocktail didn't sound half bad!). When my husband asked if he wanted id's he looked at us and said, "Uh, no, not for this event!"</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:verdana;font-size:18px;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:verdana;font-size:18px;">I just looked up into his eyes, and let him see just how disappointed I was. My husband pulls me away and points out to me that another couple is being id'd by a different person. This couple looked at least 10 years older than us! I was miffed! OK, fine, so I don't look 21, BUT NEITHER DID THEY! I looked WAY younger than she did. I made a quick decision to not go over and say something so as not to offend the couple being id'd.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:verdana;font-size:18px;">Good decision. I am just glad it was before the cocktail and not after!</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:verdana;font-size:18px;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:verdana;font-size:18px;">The concert opened with an Irish singer named Gemma Hayes. She was fabulous. She told little stories about her life and her songs and had the voice of an angel. We ended up purchasing her cd after her performance. I can't wait to listen to it after my husband brings it back from his studio.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:verdana;font-size:18px;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:verdana;font-size:18px;">Then the main event. It was really Great! The music was better than I had remembered. When I looked down from our seats it had gotten Packed! Our seat...our seats were the best in the house, according to the usher who directed us to them. They were in the first row of reserved seats, which were balcony, but the venue is very small so it was quite close, really.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:verdana;font-size:18px;">The only problem with my seats, however, was the enthusiastic fans seated two rows behind me and one seated behind me and to the left. They had the most piercing whistles and yelled ALOT! When Joe Jackson was talking....they whistled. When he played, they whistled. They even yelled things a few times, which I find obnoxious. Dude, he can't hear you. He is not going to stop his concert and have a conversation with you...really, he isn't...so shut your pie hole and let us hear the music.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:verdana;font-size:18px;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:verdana;font-size:18px;">Fine, I am cranky. Not even the smell to ganja wafting up from the crowd on the floor mellowed me out. I had to cover my ears and stuff my fingers into them to block the shrillness of the whistles in my ears! </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:verdana;font-size:18px;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:verdana;font-size:18px;">Overall, we had a wonderful time. The music was GREAT. I really need to get out more!</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:verdana;font-size:18px;"><br /></span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1519159714897776018.post-49726557065307187862008-10-14T09:48:00.000-07:002008-10-14T10:25:24.083-07:00Kiddie Rorschach Test or Kiddie Porn?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipUnWsOocapuzRljK-MlcmjkCOOD3Lk3Atqjr1jtksQHF-QTRXRU7tAv_4xCnSzThsiF0h4Ia_WudyIQhlqWzAIUsuM0FXou3ol-aLj3XudblxuLCxKkHpC80gFiF9tE_pgS4ZTiHRXhE-/s1600-h/kim-possible-1.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipUnWsOocapuzRljK-MlcmjkCOOD3Lk3Atqjr1jtksQHF-QTRXRU7tAv_4xCnSzThsiF0h4Ia_WudyIQhlqWzAIUsuM0FXou3ol-aLj3XudblxuLCxKkHpC80gFiF9tE_pgS4ZTiHRXhE-/s400/kim-possible-1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257059470194206642" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQNDKpNNCJ7jtMcFWy__ciSnFKM1iElxr-whFwXq1VIT_ZSU_oRNnbiNgrEoztdxGqq-tdfPLeXy78lhU2-RhpxiHB-4XehlwkO4WOyzGjmRzw8v2CQDDnv3uuCdm0VbbLZHC_ol0jwSDx/s1600-h/Chowder-group.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQNDKpNNCJ7jtMcFWy__ciSnFKM1iElxr-whFwXq1VIT_ZSU_oRNnbiNgrEoztdxGqq-tdfPLeXy78lhU2-RhpxiHB-4XehlwkO4WOyzGjmRzw8v2CQDDnv3uuCdm0VbbLZHC_ol0jwSDx/s400/Chowder-group.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257053876121920354" /></a><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>The two younger ones were watching cartoons Sunday, I think it was, and my husband and I were laying in watching as they flipped from channel to channel. They settled on a cartoon called Chowder. Nothing about this cartoon interested me, it was no Flintstones, but I was willing to give it a chance. OK, let's be honest, I was too damn tired to get up and leave the room. This tall guy caught my eye, but I said nothing at first. Then when his little friends were walking, on each side of him, it was just too much to take! I mean, have you seen the town?</div><div>And the Disney people thought they got away with something! The next thing we see is, and I can't remember which of the freaky characters was doing it, maybe droopy boobs, vacuuming. Wanna know what the vacuum said on it? No, not "ON" and "OFF" but "SUCK" and "BLOW"!</div><div><br /></div><div>Seriously! We have penis guy and vagina head in a town with buildings in the shape of phalluses! We wondered if the animators were pervs or stoners. Maybe both.</div><div><br /></div><div>I was once at eating disorders seminar (continuing education) where the speaker, who was a very bright Doctor and heads a center for eating disorders and cutters, refused to allow his daughter to watch the cartoon Kim Possible because of the way they depicted girls in the cartoon....midriff showing and impossibly thin waist! He felt that it promoted anorexia and eating disorders in young children. </div><div><br /></div><div>I don't really have time for this entire rant, as I have to prepare for work this evening. I have a long night ahead, however, I am disgusted at what I feel is subliminal sexual content in my children's cartoons. They get enough exposure to sex on billboards, muni bus advertisements, any show on t.v., must I continue? I am not a prude. I am just upset that kids are no longer allowed to be kids. Now we are consciously sexxing them up? How screwed up is that?</div><div><br /></div><div>(I will learn how to use blogger, but I meant for Kim Possible to be down below.....UGH!)</div><div><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1519159714897776018.post-1403010088415241892008-10-11T22:27:00.000-07:002008-10-11T22:55:57.106-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAspAoSrAIYaVJf_2k4YSbk4-pNZeY8KG2QPRclZCY-sXwL2drw5xDbbcAN5X-3fKVNlrndG36nSQYtqjs0GpSUdM3DOgsPHiOHh58AQxfCxsZUBTZpP6RYYWdGo3glRq0PsXR6hIEWWwn/s1600-h/gift2-main_Full.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAspAoSrAIYaVJf_2k4YSbk4-pNZeY8KG2QPRclZCY-sXwL2drw5xDbbcAN5X-3fKVNlrndG36nSQYtqjs0GpSUdM3DOgsPHiOHh58AQxfCxsZUBTZpP6RYYWdGo3glRq0PsXR6hIEWWwn/s400/gift2-main_Full.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256135003187945490" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 18px;">Pierce's party is still in progress. The kids arrived earlier than expected. In fact, I was in the shower when the fist official guest arrived. One friend came several hours early because his parents moved out of the city and his Dad, who works in SF needed to come to the city at noon. That was great, because my boys have missed this kid and his siblings so much since they moved.</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 18px;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 18px;">When they all finally got to our house, my husband took them to the park to play for a couple of hours. My youngest was taken away by one of the Moms dropping off a boy to go spend the night with her son, so that worked out great! My oldest is gone on a sleep over as well, so I am down to seven. Seven eight year olds.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 18px;">Ok, so after the park, we went to a pizza parlor for dinner. I reminded these guys to use their best manners and that I would tell their parents what fantastic manners they had. Well, these ladies sitting at the next table stopped by on the way out to inquire as to whether all these boys were mine. I explained the situation. I actually thought she recognized my friend's son because she is the Fire Chief. They were kind of staring at him. I was wrong. Anyway, they wanted us to know that they were impressed with the boys' manners!</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 18px;">I was floored! I felt like I really pulled something off. I could not wait to tell some of their parents, because I just KNOW they won't believe that I have not drugged them. On second thought, maybe I should not tell them!</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 18px;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 18px;">After dinner, we went to see Beverly Hills Chihuahua. It was about what you would expect. When we got back the boys really wanted to open presents. I don't really like that whole opening presents in front of people thing, I just think it is bad manners, but they did it anyway.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 18px;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 18px;">OMG! One boy brought a gift PLUS a card with $40 dollars in it! Another boy brought a toy he said cost $50 and "it was not on sale". I am not sure what else my son raked in because I had to answer an important call, sadly at that very moment, but, again, OMG! </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 18px;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 18px;">So, then, I started to go over in my mind what we gave these kids for their last birthdays. OH MY GOD! The Mom who so graciously mad the ice cream whopper cake, her son's birthday was a couple weeks ago.....what did we give him? Was it cash? Was it enough? </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 18px;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 18px;">When did this happen? When did kids start getting so much for their birthday? I think this is insane! I am embarrassed that he received these gifts. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 18px;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 18px;">I simply cannot reciprocate gifts like that. I can give gifts valued at 20-30 dollars. I do give $40 to my kids' best friends, but that's it. I have three kids in private school! Not only that, with the number of parties they are invited to, how on earth can we give $40- $50 each time? </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 18px;">I realize that some of these people are LOADED and that amount of money is nothing. It is something to us. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 18px;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 18px;">So, thanks for the lovely gifts, we do appreciate them all, but please, next time, make it kid sized for our kids!</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 18px;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 18px;">Slumber party still in progress....</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 18px;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 18px;"><br /></span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1519159714897776018.post-79446456438969462452008-10-09T23:32:00.000-07:002008-10-10T07:53:11.819-07:00The Sky is Falling, Chicken Little!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWbXZIZ6gjcT3sYW8d7oFxyh4Oc0FRTC1PlV4HSp7uIfojWR2NtIFn-4b5YCl77SN8sraDu9qZgZYbOc9Sh5IV20ys-T26nU6FrV11HqNrccP9rK8KSOaIstt35yHAvKhHpSJYonhLAIaP/s1600-h/Blue+Angels.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWbXZIZ6gjcT3sYW8d7oFxyh4Oc0FRTC1PlV4HSp7uIfojWR2NtIFn-4b5YCl77SN8sraDu9qZgZYbOc9Sh5IV20ys-T26nU6FrV11HqNrccP9rK8KSOaIstt35yHAvKhHpSJYonhLAIaP/s400/Blue+Angels.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255421639509348322" /></a><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">No not really, but you would have thought we were under attack last night at about 10:30 p.m.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">when I was coming home from the gym. I was just getting my key in the front door when I heard a thunderous sound RIGHT overhead. I looked to see what it was and saw nothing. Hmmm. I shut the door and went inside. I briefly wondered if there was some big police case going on and if that was a helicopter flying low. I made a quick mental note, for all the good that will do, to ask my police officer friend about it, who no doubt will be having coffee with me to check out my new rug in the morning. </span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">I did not have to ask my girl friend in the morning, out of the blue, I remembered the date and it occurred to me....it's FLEET WEEK. That was the sound of the Blue Angels! How cool. They always fly near our area while practicing for their big shows on the weekend. I have always looked forward to watching their aerobatics. It is really amazing. We took our oldest to the show once, but between the hordes of people and the excruciating noise, we decided to wait a while before we brought him back. Uh, and then we had two more. Although we can see it from where we live, it is pretty cool to go down to the Marina and get the full effect.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:verdana;font-size:18px;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:verdana;font-size:18px;">The Blue Angels are the Navy's flight demonstration squadron. They were formed 1946 and were the worlds's first officially sanctioned military aerial demonstration team. The squadron's six pilots fly Boeing FA-18 Hornets in upwards of 70 shows in 34 locations throughout the U.S. each year, where they still employ many of the same practices and techniques used in their aerial displays since 1946.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:verdana;font-size:18px;">During Fleetweek, they fly over San Francisco and Seattle to help celebrate the maritime festivities in those cities. My friend, whose birthday is tomorrow, used to say that Navy gave her sailors for her birthday. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:verdana;font-size:18px;">This weekend is always crowded at the piers, warf and many of the local hot spots due to FLeet Week, when the fleet comes in in addition to the Italian Festival and other festivals that always coincide. This is usually the weekend where they crown their queen and everything.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:verdana;font-size:18px;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:verdana;font-size:18px;">I will tell you more about the BA tomorrow as we plan on going down to the marina right after the boys get out of school so we can take them to watch the practice. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:verdana;font-size:18px;">We can't go Saturday 'cuz, did I mention? I am having 6 EXTRA 8 YEAR OLDS spend the night? Pierce did not have any kind of party in August for his birthday so he was told he could have a few friends come over and go bowling, have pizza and maybe spend the night. Before I knew it, he had invited six and told them all they were sleeping over. I would have plenty of room had I cleaned out my work studio down stairs. It is basically a second home down there. Oh well, we will have to make it work up here. My oldest will be at my good friend's house for her son's 13th day. She is the cop I mentioned before. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:verdana;font-size:18px;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:verdana;font-size:18px;">We actually might end up at the same bowling alley. A bunch of way-too-cool tweens/teen-agers and a gang of his brother's bothersome friends. Oh Great!</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:verdana;font-size:18px;">But it will be fun for me and my Dear Friend.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:verdana;font-size:18px;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:verdana;font-size:18px;">Can't wait to see the Blue Angels!</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:verdana;font-size:18px;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:verdana;font-size:18px;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:verdana;font-size:18px;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:verdana;font-size:18px;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:verdana;font-size:18px;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:verdana;font-size:18px;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:verdana;font-size:18px;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:verdana;font-size:18px;"><br /></span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1519159714897776018.post-75041300748272727122008-10-08T11:56:00.001-07:002008-10-08T12:20:40.723-07:00Getting Ready For Halloween<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsrl9JgxLdj-fwMj9U5jUU5rgVSUyG2YzqstLyxBMGhgIw74QBp-3DjFeoZKYYqgRjIopi6EcSlBeFFfXzfbqV_QfApJcGB0wukbFbL3wNYCelY2kKaTxy2xRH7pUQPyEcWuZ4kGgJStDa/s1600-h/flavaflav-1.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsrl9JgxLdj-fwMj9U5jUU5rgVSUyG2YzqstLyxBMGhgIw74QBp-3DjFeoZKYYqgRjIopi6EcSlBeFFfXzfbqV_QfApJcGB0wukbFbL3wNYCelY2kKaTxy2xRH7pUQPyEcWuZ4kGgJStDa/s400/flavaflav-1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254859005722679826" /></a><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); text-decoration: underline;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> Christiaan has his costume pretty much taken care of. Well, he has the mask and that is most of it. He and about six of his friends are going to be The Joker's crew from The Dark Knight. If you saw the movie, they wore the masks in the opening robbery scene. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;">Reid purchased a Zombie costume yesterday. He set out to find a Zombie and we found just the right, scary, bloody, icky, walking dead.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;">Now it was Pierce's turn. Nothing seemed to pique his interest....until his brother pimped him out!</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;">That 's it! Flava Flav! He wanted to be Pimp Daddy, FLava Flav. Just how does an 8 year old child even know who this character is, anyhow? Does he listen to Public Enemy? NO! Does he watch Flavor of Love? I sure hope not. I know Christiaan has watched it. Yes, I am shaking my head! </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;">So as we pimp out my middle born child, and the tears roll down my cheeks, the voice of reason sounds from somewhere behind me. Of course, it was my eldest child.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;">"Uh, Mom? Pierce is going to get a conduct referrel for that costume!"</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;">"NOOOO! Wait, you think so?"</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;">So I find a group of three boys that appear to be in school uniforms, thinking that they go to Catholic school, too. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;">"Excuse me, boys, can I ask you something? Would you get in trouble for going to school on Halloween dressed as Flava Flav?"</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;">"Who?"</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;">"OK. Would you get in trouble for this costume?"</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;">Here is my sweet little Piercey Pie in an oversized clock, the Viking Horns a pair of pimp shades and various other pimpish items.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;">They all agreed that in their school, it would not be acceptable.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;">Pierce was crushed! He loved the Flav costume.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;">I called several friends on the spot to ask opinions. I did not put one single item on him that actually said "Pimp", because, you know the grill he wanted had "Pimp" printed across it. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;">My boys were Rastas one year. No one got upset. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;">Just how out of line would it be for him to be Flav for Halloween? My own judgement on this one is way off, obviously.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com7