"Inside the restaurant, there are some cock models and you can figure out its feature."

My student writing about Babe's chicken restaurant- by "cocks" he means "chickens."

There is a reason I don't ever want to teach middle school aged children. The reason is, for the most part, they are incredibly annoying.

Around the ages of 9-12 kids take great joy in correcting other people. I'm sure it's even more fun when they get to correct an adult. So if one says, "It's 12:30." The preteen would say, "No it's not! It's 12:29 and a half!"

The preteen finds this to be a grand coup d'etat. Ah ha! The preteen outwits the adult once again!
This is something all kids do at some point. I had a penchant for correcting grammar myself.
The main reason it is so annoying is that what is corrected tend to be such minor details that to correct them is essentially nonsensical.

Really, does it matter if it’s 12:30 or 12:29 and a half? When someone is telling a story does “a apple” in stead of “an apple” cause a communication break down? If I say I live 30 minutes away instead of 22 miles away, do you still understand something about where I live?

So it goes that some people grow up, but remain in this stage of feeling superior to other by means of correcting them, by insisting on being right all the time, by refusing to accept anything but the literal meanings, or the ones that they themselves have pronounced acceptable.

I’ve noticed that these people, much like children, have no idea how annoying they are. They don’t pick up on all the cues that adults give when they are annoyed. They fail to show any acknowledgment when people respond poorly to them, or don’t respond to them at all.

I know one such person. Actually, I’ve know several such persons. In the past I decided a few of them needed someone to guide them on the way to be less annoying. Others of them I wanted to stab with my pencil.

This one I just try to ignore. I have no desire to be involved enough to guide or stab.

He asked me to pick up some ‘spring water’ from the store. The store was out of ‘spring water,’ so I bought ‘drinking water’ thinking that it’s pretty much the same. When I brought it back, he said, “That’s not ‘spring water,’ you might as well throw it away, nobody’s going to drink it unless you want to.”

’Yes, you’re welcome . . . Ass.’

That’s what I wanted to say. Instead I said, “Yes, I will drink it, because it’s drinking water.”

Thinking to myself, ‘Because I know that the difference between the two is the color of the packaging; and maybe, if the company is honest, the way in which the water comes to the surface.’

I grew up near a town in Pennsylvania called Cambridge Springs. It was a pretty popular resort destination in the late 1800s and early 1900s because of it’s “superior spring water.” My mother worked at the resort and she said people used to walk the board walk a quarter mile into the middle of a field to the spring. They would pay five cents for a glass of ‘spring water,’ not knowing that they were also taking showers in ‘spring water,’ and flushing their toilets with ‘spring water.’ It was all the same water. The only difference between ‘spring water’ and ground water (which is used to make ‘drinking water’) is that ‘spring water’ comes from a source that naturally raises to the surface. Some people think ‘spring water’ is the same as ‘mineral water,’ but that’s only the case when there are minerals in the ground from which the water springs.

Ass.

Have I mentioned I'm in love with Alan Dart? I wonder if he's gay . . . I don't mean to stereotype, but the man knows cute! First I HAD TO HAVE his gnome pattern. I looked all over and finally sucommed to ebay- of course now I find it on his own website. Too late. Then I had to have - (it wasn't as urgent as the gnomes) some bears- then I made the mistake of looking him up again and I HAD TO HAVE this book. I MUST knit chickens and bunnies!

The next must have is the mice- need them, but I'll wait a more oportune moment for the mice . . .

yes- the mice shall be mine . . . My precious . . .

I have finished all the bits of my first gnome, just gotta sew him together. He's gonna be super cute!

So pk called the other day to inquire about spending some quality time at the Indian restaurant in my neck of the woods- this is the most authentic Indian restaurant I’ve ever seen not in India. It’s more India than some restaurants I did see in India.

When I take someone there, we are inevitably the only whities in the place. It’s even set up in the Indian style, where you have to go to different counters to order different kinds of food- you order it from one (or several) person/people then they call your table number –It is important to sit at a table which they know is not clear over the loud speaker. When they say 13 or 30 they know it’s not clear, so they will say, “13- one-three” or “30- three-zero.” If, however, you sit at table 11 for example- well they know that doesn’t sound like anything so when they say, “Table eh-hen!” They expect you to know that – ‘yes you whitie- I plainly said,’ “Table ehhen!” Then you will look at the woman calling tables and look at your table number “eleven” and realize she’s been calling you for the past minute and a half.

It is called the “Chaat House” which is basically Snack/Street/Fast food in India. Yes, as a matter of fact you can get an entire four course meal at a stand/up-street side restaurant in India. This place, however, has tables and chairs- snacks and meals. I saw it when I first moved to Irving, and just couldn’t bring myself to enter- but after about 6 months of no Indian food, I decided to try it out- It is South India in a strip mall. I deeply appreciate it now. In the same strip mall is an Indian supermarket. If you feel a need for a few liters of coconut oil, or maybe some bitter fruit, or masala tea- this is the place to go. Pk bought a candy bar- I felt obliged to also buy something. I looked at the pharmacy section- found some “creamy snuff” next to the “Monkey Brand Black Tooth Powder” Umm- no to both. I don’t even know what black tooth powder means- Is it for black teeth?

Does it make teeth black? Or is it the actual monkey they are describing? Is it for black monkeys or should it actually read, “Black Monkey Brand Tooth Powder.” I don’t get it. And as for the “Creamy Snuff-” Why is that in the pharmacy section? It’s slogan was “A Wonder Treasure of Tobacco Pleasure.” It said, “Means Feeling Fresh” on the box. Do you brush your teeth with it? Sounds like that would make your teeth black. I found a “Yorkie” candy bar- “Not for Girls!” Well- that can really cut down on sales one would think . . .


I found some “Fat Fat Digestive Pills.” Uh- I don’t even what to think about it.

I finally decided to go with the “Hello Bee Bee” candy. It was yellow, it had a bee on it which looked suspiciously like the “Honey Nut Cheerios” bee. Maybe it’s his Indian cousin. I was thinking, “Ooh, look, they are even shaped like little bee hives! Cute! They must have honey in them! I bet they taste delicious!”
Obviously, with this insanely optimistic train of thought, I have been away from India for too long- I was putting things together in such a way that they would make sense. My mistake.

When I got home I ate one of my “Hello Bee Bee” “honey” candies. First unexpected thing was that although it was “gummy” it wasn’t gummy like Gummy Bears. It wasn’t even gummy like Swedish Fish. It was more along the lines of gummy like Jello which has been left in the fridge, uncovered for about a year and a half. It was resistant to my chewing- it made me feel uncomfortable.

Second, I noticed that I wasn’t tasking honey at all. I was tasting . . . something else . . . something I recognized . . . something that did not belong in my mouth in candy form . . . it was SWEET CORN!
Dang it! That wasn’t a long skinny bee hive!! It was candy corn! REAL candy corn!

India- you’ve done it to me again. Blast you!

I would like to say "What the . . . ?" and "Ewww!"



Tampon dolls look great in your bathroom, maybe next to a toilet paper doll? Not meant for children. Great as a gift for that person with a sense of humor!

that being said you can buy these babies for only $10.00 each!

But sometimes when you are young, you think that you can do everything you want like smoking selling drugs, dancing, being unconscious. Young people should understand that when parants ask them not to o something bad, it is for their well-being. When you smoke, for sure you will get a deisease; when you are unconscious you can miss a lot of opportunity to success in your life Finally, to be young is good but to be young and conscious is great.

Words of wisdom from a former student

One of my students was talking on the phone in class. I asked her why she was talking on the phone during class time, she said, “I don’t know!” So I asked her who she was talking to, she said, “I don’t know!” then she said, “He wants his Jackie.” I asked her if she told him he had the wrong number. She said “Yes!” I asked her why she was still talking to him in that case. She said, “I don’t know! He called me his Jackie!”

I said, “Give me the phone.” I took the phone and told the guy he had called my international student and she didn’t understand what he wanted, and asked who he was calling for. He said he was just trying to talk to Jackie somebody. I said, “I’m sorry, you have the wrong number.” He said, “Yeah I figured I might when she didn’t know what I was talking about.” So I hung up.

I asked my student why that was so difficult. “If you get a wrong number, you just say, ‘I’m sorry, you have the wrong number’ and hang up!”
She said, “But he called me his Jackie!”
I said, “But you aren’t Jackie!”
She said, “I thought he knew me!”
I said, “How could he know you if he called you the wrong name?”
She said, “He called me his Jackie!”
I said, “Are you Jackie?”
She said, “Jackie means “honey” in Korean. He said, “Hi Jackie (honey) and talked to me and I am not his Jackie (honey!) He was a bad man!”
Me: “Uh- no, he’s not a bad man . . . he just wanted to talk to (his) Jackie.”

That poor guy . . .

STING LYRICS

"Brand New Day"

How many of you people out there
Been hurt in some kind of love affair
And how many times do you swear that you'll never love again?

How many lonely, sleepless nights
How many lies, how many fights
And why would you want to put yourself through all that again?

"Love is pain," I hear you say
Love has a cruel and bitter way
Of paying you back for all the faith you ever had in your brain

How could it be that what you need the most
Can leave you feeling just like a ghost?
You never want to feel so sad and lost again

One day you could be looking
Through an old book in rainy weather
You see a picture of her smiling at you
When you were still together
You could be walking down the street
And who should you chance to meet
But that same old smile that you've been thinking of all day

You can turn the clock to zero, honey
I'll sell the stock, we'll spend all the money
We're starting up a brand new day

Turn the clock all the way back
I wonder if she'll take me back
I'm thinking in a brand new way

Turn the clock to zero, sister
You'll never know how much I missed her
Starting up a brand new day

Turn the clock to zero, boss
The river's wide, we'll swim across
Started up a brand new day

It could happen to you - just like it happened to me
There's simply no immunity - there's no guarantee
I say love's such a force - if you find yourself in it
And sometimes no reflection is there

Baby wait a minute, wait a minute
Wait a minute, wait a minute
Wait a minute, wait a minute

Turn the clock to zero, honey
I'll sell the stock, we'll spend all the money
We're starting up a brand new day

Turn the clock to zero, Mac
I'm begging her to take me back
I'm thinking in a brand new way

Turn the clock to zero, boss
The river's wide, we'll swim across
Started up a brand new day

Turn the clock to zero buddy
Don't wanna be no fuddy duddy
Started up a brand new day

I'm the rhythm in your tune
I'm the sun and you're the moon
I'm a bat and you're the cave
You're the beach and I'm the wave
I’m the plow and you’re the land
You're the glove and I'm the hand
I'm the train and you're the station
I'm a flagpole to your nation - yeah

Stand up all you lovers in the world
Stand up and be counted every boy and every girl
Stand up all you lovers in the world
Starting up a brand new day

I'm the present to your future
You're the wound and I’m the suture
You're the magnet to my pole
I'm the devil in your soul
You're the pupil I'm the teacher
You're the church and I'm the preacher
You're the flower I'm the rain
You're the tunnel I'm the train

Stand up all you lovers in the world
Stand up and be counted every boy and every girl
Stand up all you lovers in the world
Starting up a brand new day

You're the crop to my rotation
You're the sum of my equation
I'm the answer to your question
If you follow my suggestion
We can turn this ship around
We'll go up instead of down
You're the pan and I'm the handle
You're the flame and I'm the candle

Stand up all you lovers in the world
Stand up and be counted every boy and every girl
Stand up all you lovers in the world
We're starting up a brand new day

Nowadays… A passage peppered with commas — which in the past would have indicated painstaking and authoritative editorial attention — smacks simply of no backbone. People who put in all the commas betray themselves as moral weaklings with empty lives and out-of-date reference books. (Truss, 2004, p. 97–98)

I suspect Truss doesn't know how to use commas.

"It's a pity there's not you in class today."

One of my students wrote that to me the day I missed class. I just noticed it when I was going through my old emails.

I got my evaluations back today- they ask the students "what could be done to improve this class?" One of them wrote, "Get a new instructor."

IT IS GRANTED!! Not because of that comment, but because of a scheduling conflict. Anyway I'm out of grammar for the summer- maybe forever . . . who knows?

On a scale of 7 to 1, 1 being "No, never" and 7 being "Yes, Always" they were asked how friendly I was, I got one 1, one 3, one 4, one 5, eleven 6s and eight-teen 7s.

WOO-HOO!

One student suggested that we exercise in grammar class.

SERIOUSLY? I'm so out of grammar class if we have to do calisthenics.

One student suggested that the electives last "more long time."

One student really liked that I taught grammar in grammar class. Yes, indeed.

One student was asked what she liked about speaking class she said, "We can speak too much." That's good . . . right?

I dreamed pudding told me he was going sky diving. I questioned him about it because although I don't know how much it costs, it sounds expensive, not to mention dangerous. That was the whole of the dream. He said he was going, I questioned it and it was over.
I don't dream about him much any more, although the other night I dreamed he had a magic ram, horse and elephant he kept in his bag . . . I think however that was a WoW overload.
I wondered if the skydiving meant something, so I looked it up.

Skydiving

To dream that you are skydiving, represents your high ideals. Sometimes you may need to compromise these ideals and be more realistic of your expectations.

He's not good at compromise.

And I know it was me who called it over but
I still wish you'd fought me ‘til Your dying day
Don’t let me get away

Cause I can’t wait to figure out what’s wrong with me
So I can say 'this is the way that I used to be
There’s no substitute for time
Or for the sadness

John Mayer "Split screen sadness"

I’ve been working on will power and self control. One issue at a time for me. There are plenty to last me a life time. The one I’m working on now is selfishness. I think I am by nature selfish. I think most people are actually. Some people aren’t, they give away everything, share everything, but most, like me, I think, have a harder time. We have to work on it. Some of us have to work on it more than others. It’s big things and little things that tempt us to selfishness. When we break a candy in half, we want the bigger piece. When it’s time to share the cost of an event, we think we should have to pay less. When it comes to gifts; we try to get away cheap.

For me I suppose it comes from growing up poor. There wasn’t much to share, and I wasn’t usually asked to share, as everyone knew there was so little to go around. Other people often volunteered to pay for things for me because they knew I didn’t have anything.

You would think that with all the generosity I was shown I would have learned to show it myself. Some bad habits die hard though. Now I’m making the efforts in small things and large. When I break a piece of candy I make a note to give away the bigger piece. When it come to paying my part I try to give a little extra, I try to remember to offer more than I think is “fair.” When I feel put upon, I try to ask for another opinion. I don’t always succeed, but at least I’m trying to change a bad habit. I think that’s what I need to do to grow and learn and become better. I want to be better, no matter the cost. I know the reward will be greater.

I was just about to eat when I got this text, "Nah . . . I have time . . . Just not interested today."

I have time to talk to you about your wounded heart and your hurt feelings. I have time to explain myself to you, I have time to tell you how I feel hurt or angry or dissapointed. Yeah, I have time, I'm just not interested in talking to you about it today. Maybe tomorrow when I can deny I ever had a feeling, when I can rationalize it all. Maybe tomorrow or the next day when I am really bored, maybe then it will be more interesting to me.

I understand, and I wasn't really hungry anyway. It's not important enough for your time I guess. I just wrote and called and texted and left a message. Over kill? I guess I'm just too interested.

http://www.oneishy.com/personality/results/2e6cd3e0f

Personality: Phlegmatic Melancholy

Melancholy Strength:9 Weakness:6 38%

Phlegmatic Strength:9 Weakness:9 45%

Sanguine Strength:2 Weakness:2 10%

Choleric Strength:0 Weakness:3 8%

I feel really ugly.
Not like "OH my God! My eyebrows are enourmous!"
or "I have a million zits!" ugly.
I mean ugly on the inside.
I also know that I shouldn't feel this way.
I'm loved and I'm forgiven.
I know.
There is a plan for me.
I know.
There are signs and wonders and beauty all around.
I know.
How to stop a feeling?

second person


Break Your Heart Lyrics

The weather here has been erratic to say the least. I don’t recall it being so mutable in the past. One day it is sunny, balmy winds- humid. The next day it is snowing, storming, gale force winds and 20-40 degrees colder. The next day, back to sunny and warm. Tuesday, I was out with Buzz and I saw this little sky blue and white parakeet. He was happy as the little larks he was hanging out with. Well, I don’t know who he was hanging out with, swallows, larks whatever. He was happy.

That night it stormed, a cold wind blew in and the temperatures dropped about 20 degrees. When I took Buzz out the next morning there was the little parakeet. He was not quite so happy as he had been the day before. He was all wet and muddy. His wings were clipped, so he could only fly a few feet at a time. All wet and muddy and tired, he could hardly get off the ground. I knew one little dog for sure who would love to eat him, and there are plenty of other dogs and cats in the neighborhood who would like a tasty sky blue snack.

I, I, who does not like birds, I went to rescue him from the paws of death. I think saying I don’t like birds isn’t quite right. I like them when they are outside flying around doing birdie things. I don’t like them in houses, when they are too close to me, and certainly not to touch me! It’s approximately the same way I feel about lizards. I know they won’t hurt me, I don’t mind if other people have them as pets, but I don’t want them near me and I certainly don’t want to touch them. They creep me out.

There I was, never-the-less, with a five ounce monster in my hand. It was trying to bite me! I took it home and put it in a shoe box. It waited until it was dry, then escaped and flew around my living room pooping on my stuff. Stupid bird. I squealed a few times and finally trapped it back in the shoe box. I took it to the pet store and got a cage and some food. That afternoon I put up some “Did you lose your parakeet?” signs.

I had it at school with me so I showed some of my students. They said he was pretty. One girl said, “I like it, it’s pretty, but I don’t like, what is it? There, not piss . . .” She pointed to the bottom of the cage. I said, “It’s poop.”
She said, “Poop? P-U-P?”
I said, “Poop P-O-O-P”
Another girl walked up and said, “Oh! Is that his name? Poop! Hello Poop! So cute name!”
I said, “No, that’s not . . . uh- ok yeah, his name is Poop.”

Buzz is mesmerized by Poop. Buzz is ready to give up on the neighbor’s cat in favor of Poop. Poop twitches a lot when Buzz gets too close.

I went on a “chocolate walk” with the woman’s group from the church I’ve been attending. We went to a too-cute-oh-my-wait-I-just-vomited-a-little-in-my-mouth shopping center. Useless over priced antiques, even more useless, even more over priced handicrafts, even more useless, even more overpriced jewelry- you get the idea. But, each store was giving away chocolate. Some of them were having drawings for other chocolate items. It seems I have won some Neiman Marcus chocolate potato chips. I’ll have to go pick those puppies up!

Speaking of puppies, I bought a Kosher Hot Dog. It is so stinking easy to amuse me.

Late we went to some country chicken place to eat, where thousands of chickens must be scarified to satisfy the needs for the MOUNTAINS of chicken that those adorable little waitresses cart out on their gigantic platters. We had chicken, we did the Hokey-Pokey (like you do at a chicken restaurant) we turned ourselves around and went home.

Before we left, however, some of use showed each other our purchases. I of course showed the Kosher Hot Dog. Someone asked if it was Charlie Chaplin. I don’t recall ever seeing Charlie Chaplin in forelocks and a prayer shawl, but “Uh- no . . . it’s a Kosher Hot Dog.” Texas- honestly have you people ever seen Jews?!

One woman showed us her new $79.00 shirt. I almost choked on my mashed potatoes. Another woman showed us her sheep. It was just a little folk-looking carved wooden black sheep. I said, “Oh, that’s nice.” She said, “Yes, I have colored sheep at home.” I did that thing where I turn my head to the side and squint my eyes in an effort to get my brain in the exact right position to understand that kind of statement. Then she “explained,” “I always see sheep decorations that are white or pastel, but not colored, so I just had to get this one.” I was thinking, ‘Aren’t pastels colors? Or does she mean she has BLACK sheep?’

I don’t know why but, because the term ‘colored’ referring to black (people or sheep) is so old fashioned it has a negative connotation and can be derogatory. It’s okay to say ‘people of color’ so maybe she should have said she has ‘sheep of color’ at home. Of course my first thought was a rainbow of sheep wandering a field contently.

I like the red one.