Rolling along....
When I was little, I rarely got in trouble, especially at school. I was a nerd. I was a preacher's kid. And if that wasn't enough, I was smart enough to perform my snarkiness well behind anyone's back who I disliked. But once, in 6th grade, I got in trouble.
My 6th grade math teacher was a twit. She was cheerleader turned over-enthusiastic educator twit and I seriously hated her. She annoyed every fiber of my being with her stickers and new and improved methods of learning (which usually focused solely on moving our desks into different seating arrangements). Even now, when I think of her, it is difficult to not roll my eyes. And, being that I've always had a hard time faking "nice" or "like" or any other such thing, I got in trouble in twit's class. For....
ROLLING MY EYES. That's right. The one time I actually remember getting in trouble, it was for rolling my eyes at my moronic should-have-been-an-aerobics-instructor math teacher.
Why am I telling you all this? A stroll down the memory lane of my troublesome youthful self? No. I've been festering about this ever since and dare not roll my eyes around anyone? HA! As if...
No, no. I'm telling you all this because I have something to tell you and this thing will undoubtedly cause such a rash of simultaneous eye-rolling that scientists the world (yeah...the world of the 8 of you that read my blog!) over will think that genetically modified corn has finally take its toll on the control of our eyeballs.
But it's ok. Really. Roll away. Having being subject to the punishment for the involuntary movement of my eyeballs in the face of utter twitdom, I understand that you will all need to roll your eyes at this news. And I welcome it. I encourage you to. Sometimes I do it myself.
N and I are back together.
Roll away.
My 6th grade math teacher was a twit. She was cheerleader turned over-enthusiastic educator twit and I seriously hated her. She annoyed every fiber of my being with her stickers and new and improved methods of learning (which usually focused solely on moving our desks into different seating arrangements). Even now, when I think of her, it is difficult to not roll my eyes. And, being that I've always had a hard time faking "nice" or "like" or any other such thing, I got in trouble in twit's class. For....
ROLLING MY EYES. That's right. The one time I actually remember getting in trouble, it was for rolling my eyes at my moronic should-have-been-an-aerobics-instructor math teacher.
Why am I telling you all this? A stroll down the memory lane of my troublesome youthful self? No. I've been festering about this ever since and dare not roll my eyes around anyone? HA! As if...
No, no. I'm telling you all this because I have something to tell you and this thing will undoubtedly cause such a rash of simultaneous eye-rolling that scientists the world (yeah...the world of the 8 of you that read my blog!) over will think that genetically modified corn has finally take its toll on the control of our eyeballs.
But it's ok. Really. Roll away. Having being subject to the punishment for the involuntary movement of my eyeballs in the face of utter twitdom, I understand that you will all need to roll your eyes at this news. And I welcome it. I encourage you to. Sometimes I do it myself.
N and I are back together.
Roll away.
Copyright 2005-2006 by Spells With...All rights reserved
Speak to me, 6 already did
6 Comments:
Well, I've been lurking for only a short period of time, so I don't know who N is, hence, no eye rolling here. And bloglines says you have more then 8 readers...so maybe the earth will tilt on it's axis a bit.
I didn't roll my eyes either because I don't know the story of you and N, BUT I did snicker, or rather, snort.
Trouble. This is long, but still amusing... Let's see, second grade, Sheila McLaughlin (are you a knitter out there reading this????), I don't remember what, but I do remember standing in one corner and her in another. The teacher wasn't a nasty though. Fourth grade, Mrs. Busenberg (could she read this?), boy, she didn't like me. Again, Sheila. Our desks were side by side and she mispronounced some word like colony. I snickered. Was made to sit at the front of class and laugh while the class went on. There I was, ha ha ha ha ha etc. Then Eric Kim (could he be reading this? How do I remember these names 35 yrs later?) stood up and was reading at the front of class. Now I don't remember liking him especially, but I guess I thought he was hot or whatever the 4th grade equivelant is...so HA HA HA. Banished from the class, made to sit in the hall and not return until I promised not to laugh in Mrs. Busenberg's class EVER AGAIN. I sat. I cried. I saw students coming down the hall! So into the class. Promise? Yes... But the kids never passed the door, they went the other direction. I was so mad at myself. I chose embarassment (or to avoid it) over getting back at the teacher. Months later the whole class was laughing at something...I chuckled, a booming voice "YOU SAID YOU'D NEVER LAUGH IN MY CLASS AGAIN!!". I got a D in conduct. Sheila got a C- (not sure why, she just started the whole thing). Trauma for the little A girl. Then the teacher left because she was pregnant (must've been those HORMONES). Fifth grade teacher hated me too. Example: spelling bee, another kid gets picture defined as something you hang on a wall versus a pitcher you pour from (this is New England...you know about the atrocious accent). I get "pour" no definition, "poor"? Nope, you must just spell the word. Midway through we left, I changed my name, and kept it even after getting married! When I got the name I told mom I'd never change it...she said I'd change my mind when I got married. Ha, she should know better than to present any kind of challenge like that!
So, me and DH were separated for almost 3 years after our son was born. Another long story. Short version...it isn't always easy, but we are doing ok. He's a good guy and a great dad.
Good luck!!!
Life can be crazy and unpredictable, no?
I wish you the very best.
Ok, I'm not quite rolling my eyes.
But I worry.
But I also want you to be happy V. And if being with N *truly* makes you happy, I am happy for you. But if his bad behavior reappears, which I really hope it doesn't, I hope that he remembers where the door is!! Hopefully this time around he has smartened up!!!
I love you girlie, no matter what!!
Hi Jeanne...thanks for reading...and coming out of lurkerdom without even rolling your eyes! You're my new hero in self-control! :)
Lisa...Lol...she wouldn't even let you laugh when the REST of the class laughed??!?! WTF? Did you go to the Chitty-Chitty-Bang-Bang school of no children allowed here??? What a freak!
Haha...thanks TB! Though I'm sure its horribly predictable to some.
Awww SO. Thanks, but no worries! It's nice and slow so far, and should continue in that way for quite a long time. We'll see!
*gasp*
*thud*
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