Tara Reid in Playboy

She's looking great!

Funny

Me: I don't know why she continues to stalk my blog.

Friend: Dont be so shocked!

Me: Why not?

Friend: Because you're young, blonde, and hot!!!

Me: I owe you my first born for that!

Dear Victoria,

I see you stalking my blog again.


Amaya

All I Want for Christmas...

Can I tell you something? If one more person asks me what I want for Christmas I may say a grenade launcher. So I can- wait, I’m not going to finish that sentence. It would be crossing a line. I’m not sure if it’s PMS or the fact that I’m just tired, but pondering the destruction I would like to create if one more person asks what they can get me to celebrate the birth of baby J, seems a bit over the top. Even for me.

Here’s the thing. For me, being asked what I want for Christmas is about as enjoyable as getting a pap smear. Because I’m not one of those people who formulates lists of what I want (and yes the fact that I can easily whip up a list of why I should be First Lady, but struggle to come up with a list of what I want PEOPLE TO BUY FOR ME has not been lost).

Besides the fact that I don’t have a zillion random ideas off the top of my head, I dislike the part where people judge what you say you DO want. For example:

Well-meaning gift buyer: Maya, have you given any thought as to what you want for Christmas?

Me: Um no. I guess maybe.. some shoes? Or some books? I could use a new desk lamp…

Well-meaning gift buyer: What’s wrong with the lamp you have now?

Me: Well nothing really. I just think, I could move the one I have to my beside table and then-

Well-meaning gift buyer: What?! That is ridiculous! You are a fool and a scally-wag for even suggesting such a thing! A pox on your house young lady! A POX ON YOUR HOUSE!

Okay, so I exaggerate.

Seriously though, I’m not sure when I stopped really having a list of things I want. It wasn’t as though one snowy Christmas I decided to swallow a boring pill and stop imagining, stop wishing. It just feels like, with each Christmas my list of things that I want that can be bought and wrapped with a pretty ribbon- decreases. Sure, I could say I want anything from my Christmas list last year , but I suspect if I didn’t get a diamond encrusted toothbrush for my birthday I might not be getting it now.


What I want nobody can give me, but this isn’t to say I don’t want. Oh goodness, I want. I want another hour in everyday so I can sleep-in without guilt. I want to know what to say to those people I don’t know what to say to anymore. I want my cashier at Safeway to look like she’s not going to kill herself if I say I don’t need my milk in a bag. I want to teach a grade 3 class where everyone can tie their own shoes. I want to do nothing without feeling like I should be doing something. I want someone to uncover a lost season of The West Wing. I want rainbows scheduled every Sunday, world peace and ovens to smell less like DEATH and more like gingerbread when they are self-cleaning.


And if you can figure out how to wrap up any of that in a bow, I will stop talking about the grenade launcher. Actually, if you get me the diamond encrusted toothbrush, ( or anything from La Perla, I will stop talking about the grenade launcher.

I promise.

A Simple Wish

Peace.

I’ve been thinking a lot about this word lately. It’s been coming up in Christmas carols and is stamped on my holiday cards. My glossy magazines are encouraging me to find it in myself and Oprah raves of how it’s changed her life. We wish it upon others, in the hope they can find a content calmness and we admire those who’ve attained it (The Dali Lama, I’m talking to you) for themselves.

I’m a person who struggles with peace. I’m a woman who reviews my mistakes regularly. Reflection is my self-imposed torture device. I lay awake thinking of the man I turned away, the shoes I didn’t buy, the trip I didn’t take. I bring up each memory, recounting every detail. And then, I fold it gently back up into my brain and bring down the next one off the shelf. A constant barrage of “You should have…”, “Why didn’t you…”, “That was awful that you..” ring through my ears. It’s hard to find inner peace when you want to curb stomp the part of you that is always so quick to judge. Who highlights what you wish you could forget. Who types up your flaws in 36 point font and flashes them in your head when you should be counting sheep.

Recently however, I’ve found myself feeling more peaceful. My life has not changed dramatically, yet I’m feeling more content than I have in a long time. Of course I still think of what I’ve done wrong in my life, but without the help of Oprah or repeated viewings of Star Wars, I’ve found a way to forgive myself. For the mistakes that I made, the words I can’t take back, the people I let go.

Who knows how long this moment of Zen will last. Whether I will go to sleep tonight and dream of George Clooney or lay uncomfortably in my bed recalling how awful I was that I once made my grade 6 crush cry, eventually I will sleep. And if I do fall off the Peace wagon, I will try again tomorrow. I will think of what has past and how I cannot change anything but now. I will wish to remember how good it feels when I realize I’m not angry about anything. How much better my body feels when it isn’t curled tight, each muscle filled with anxiety. How much more I enjoy sharing compliments than complaints. How it feels to have a light heart.

I will wish for peace.

How Do You Know?

If he always gives you the last bite of his sandwich or the first lick of his ice cream cone, then he loves you.

If he’s seen your high school prom photo and says he still loves you, then he loves you.


If he’s counted all your freckles,- even the ones behind your knees, then he loves you.

If, right before sleep, he leans in, buries his nose in your hair and inhales, and when you ask what he’s doing, he smiles a smile that reminds you of a secret and says ‘nothing’, then he loves you.

If he tells you that you make chickenpox sexy, then he loves you. He’s lying, but he loves you.

If he’s laid beside you in a too small bed, in a lit up room and listened as you told him all the ways you feel like you are failing, then he loves you.

If he remembers the name of your arch enemy from the sixth grade and hates her because he knows all about how she started the rumor that you only used boys deodorant, when you didn’t- then he loves you. And he hates her. But he loves you.

If he’s ever attempted to wash your hair because you said that scene in “Out of Africa” really gets you, then he loves you.

If he makes sure that you never have to sit beside his friend Michael, the one who never washes his hair, calls his penis “Frankie the Pork Sword” and smells like the bottom of a dumpster, then he loves you.

If you are Jennifer Anistan, then he loves you.

If he’s consumed your mom’s burnt chicken, let your brother win the basketball game and laughed too long and too hard at your dad’s jokes, then he loves you.

If he told you how him and his cousin ran out of school on the first day to get to their Mommies, then he loves you. Or, he’s made up the story to get into your pants. But he could love you.

If he tells you, “I don’t know how to fix this, but I want to”, then he loves you.

If he sits through “The Hills” every Monday night, then he loves you. And possibly Heidi. But he loves you.

If he introduces you to his daughter, then he loves you.

If during hour five of an eight hour roadtrip, he sees you are bored and flips the radio station to a horrifying boy band song and begins to serenade you with his best falsetto, while keeping the beat with his hand tapping your knee, and refuses to quit until you laugh, then he loves you.

If he’s ever bought you tampons, then he loves you.

If, while vertical, sober, and full clothed, and without hope or agenda, he tells you that he loves you, then he loves you.

If he knows exactly what scene in “Gone with the Wind” that makes you cry the hardest, and he waits until the movie is over before he begins to make fun of you for crying in the first place, then he loves you.

If his favorite stories are the ones of you as a kid, if he calls you ‘monkey’ in front of his friends, if he remembers that you like the kleenex with the lotion in it, if he allows you to use clorox all over the house, if he lets you eat his french fries when you know they are his favorite, if he makes small talk with your grandmother when you can’t deal with her crazy, if he tells you that your cute victory dance is worth his own defeat, if he checks the road conditions before you leave for a trip, if he’s ever attempted to sew a button on your favorite dress when you are running late, then he loves you.

Thats how you know!

Taking Care of Bidness!

Tonight I'll be at my grandparent's farm. I'm so thrilled....it's like watching paint dry. I live a fast life!

I am going to be making my Christmas list that should be fun stuff :)

Hope all is well!!!

A

A Proud Moment

I teach Health to eight year olds. Once a week, for thirty minutes- we talk about how to brush your teeth or what to do if your kid brother lights you on fire with firecrackers and the many different types of flammable liquid one can find around the home (and why it’s bad news bears to drink them).


One of the things we work on in Health is self- esteem. They are growing up in a Bratz Dolls universe and any doll that can make Barbie look like a slob has got to be dangerous. So last Health block, I walked in and asked the kids “What is something you have done that made you feel proud?”. Their answers involved puzzled looks and crickets. After a minute of silence, one of the boys, raised his hand and asked me, “what’ve you done that makes you proud?”. I ran through the list of G rated examples a teacher always has on hand. (I left out the one time in my life I tied a cherry stem with my tongue). I talked about how I was proud when I went traveling along the West Coast ( where I spent most of my money on clothes, coffee and wine in a carton), when I became a teacher (after four years of school where I spent all my money on clothes, coffee and beer in a keg), when I learned how to say **”supercalifragilisticexpealidious” backwards (I have no naughty version, it was just a cool thing to learn how to do).



I was thinking while driving home tonight, one of my proudest accomplishments isn’t related to somewhere I went. It has nothing to do with my career or finally crossing something off a “Life List”. It’s not about learning something new, and it’s not even about the cherry stem tying happening in my mouth. One of my greatest accomplishments was taking care of my ill father. I’m not sure why I love it as much as I do, but I do. And I’m not sure why I feel awkward admitting that, as though I just announced to the internet “Oh look at how awesome I am. Whoo hoo me!*hair toss/swagger/smug guns & wink”, no, it’s definitely not that I guess I just feel like if I’m encouraging kids to be their own biggest fan, to cheer the loudest for their own success, their own moments where they feel like they get it just right, I should do the same. So there it is. Im a daddy's girl thru and thru. My moment!

Cheating

I had a conversation recently that went something like this…

Not me: So, have you ever cheated on a boyfriend?

Me: Define cheat.

Not me: Have you ever had sex with someone else while dating a guy?

Me: When I was 16!

Not me: So…. then what’s your definition of cheating?

Me: I think cheating is doing something I wouldn’t do if my boyfriend was there.

Not me: So then you have cheated?

Me: Well, under my definition yes. Under your definition, no.

(Long silence as we contemplate that under my definition we are both guilty and under theirs we are both innocent…)

It seemed strange that such a huge issue- the issue of cheating, would be defined so differently between two people. I always assumed that cheating was a black and white issue, how could there be so much confusion? So much grey matter? I decided to ask my trusty dictionary to give me some clear cut definition- but found out that Encarta is sometimes as helpful as a screen door in a submarine. This is what I got…

1. deceive somebody: to deceive or mislead somebody, especially for personal advantage
2. be unfaithful: to have a sexual relationship with somebody other than a spouse or regular sexual partner
3. escape something: to avoid harm or injury by luck or cunning

So, we both found our definition embedded in the great mind of Encarta. Instead of feeling pleased that the dictionary recognized the act of deceit as cheating, I was more troubled. Were Encarta and I prudes in assuming that cheating was deceit? Did everyone else think cheating was sex? And if they did, were the majority of these individuals carrying a Y chromosome?




Cheating is….(According to my friends)

- “sex.”
- “anything you do that you wouldn’t want anyone to find about”
- “ isn’t looking at other girls. It’s giving them my phone number when my girls in the bathroom”
- “unforgivable. People say they forgive it but don’t forget, but if you don’t forget something that horrible, how can it be a healthy relationship?
”- “boob grabbing”
- “ a words game. It’s instinct over conscience. It’s anything you do that you feel guilty about”
- “wishing the boyfriend/girlfriend you are with was someone else”
- “dangerous, and devastating if you are the person getting cheated on. I would never do it because I wouldn’t want anyone to go through what I did.”
- “anything you wouldn’t do with someone of the same sex (if you aren’t gay)”
- “removal of clothing”
- “lying to your partner because you spending time with someone else. Even if you are fully clothed and spend the whole day at the park, once you lie, you cheat”
- “sometimes a way to see if you are really serious about your boyfriend/girlfriend”
- “not cool unless you are on a holiday, or if she/he is cheating too”
- “not worth it. I mean, if you want to be with someone else, why are you with the person you are with?”
- “getting caught”


Our society clearly defines our world; this is what murder is, this is what marriage is, this is what taxable income is… and yet, cheating has slipped through the cracks. I realize that cheating is a moral issue and that it would be impossible to lay down a clear definition in the “book of life” , I’m just saying that it would be nice. I like the idea of in the heat of an argument being able to pull down a large book with tissue thin pages that would state: “Cheating is: holding the hand of another girl at the movies”, or something similar. It would make things so much easier- and arguments a lot shorter.

Until then I will hold myself accountable and feel guilt over my past. Why? Because I’d rather be guilty under my definition than innocent under someone else’s.

We Must Confess

I recently asked my class “what is beautiful?” here were some of my favorite responses:

- “trophies”

- "me when I’m being nice to new people and showing them things like where the bathroom is”

- “sparkly earrings and swirly bracelets”

- “the sun when it looks like a fire”

- “a big bowl of popcorn that I don’t have to share”

- “Luke Skywalker and how he always beats bad guys like Darth Vader because Darth Vader is bad and Luke is always gonna be good because he’s a good guy and he has the right light saber”

- “baby monkeys who kiss their mama”

- “100% on my math test. Not the easy one we did on even and odd numbers, but that hard one we did before”

- “strawberry lime margaritas served by shirtless men with great personalities who give free massages and sell designer shoes on the side at reasonable prices”

The last one might have been mine. What would you say is beautiful?

We are having an early dismissal today. Apparently there is a lot of flooding still going on. It's still raining a lot here.

It would be a great day to go home and bake cookies and cupcakes and lounge around on the couch and veg out. Instead, I'll be doing more productive things.

Tuesday was 90 days since Daddy passed and it's still very difficult. It has changed me greatly. I'm not the same person I was 3 months ago.

I will be spending my weekend shopping and spending the night at the farm. I'm looking forward to Georgetown.

I have a workout date with my aunt on Sunday. Should be rather interesting.

Have a great weekend everybody!

Amaya

Getting My Ass Kicked

Me in all my teaching glory: ” *Chloe! Stop kicking Matthew!”

Chloe: “He kicked me first.”

Me in all my teaching glory: “Well please stop, you know the rules. Hands and feet to yourselves. Keep it up and you will both be missing recess.”

Chloe: “But it’s not fair, he kicked me first.”

Me in all my teaching glory: “But if you kick back, you are breaking the rules too. You need to tell him to stop, and if he doesn’t- tell a teacher. He may have done it first, but if I look up from my desk and see YOU kicking, you are going to get in trouble too. Understand?”

At recess, I watched the students from the classroom window and contemplated how easy it was to solve kid problems with a quick phrase and stern voice. I found the words “but if you kick back, you are breaking the rules too” sink inside me and realized as my mind raced over the last few days, that I hadn’t been taking my own advice.

This last week I’ve been a complete asshole. It’s true. I’m ashamed of how I’ve been acting. Ashamed. And it takes a lot to get me to cross that threshold, but I’m there. I know that writing here is one opportunity I have to not talk about what I’ve been doing,- it would be easy to tell it all with a few jokes or even skip it completely and tell only a funny story about a kid who is bringing a deer ear to show and tell on Monday (no seriously. A DEER EAR.) . But… that wouldn’t feel right. Because I’m not always funny. And I’m learning I’m not always nice.

The first incident was no one’s fault. It was a wrong place, wrong time sort of incident that resulted in a disappointing night. There was no yelling or drama, just curt goodbyes and a long sigh on the drive home. But it was frustrating. And at the time, I didn’t know what to do when handed a box of frustration addressed to me. A gift wrapped up in misunderstanding and mistakes- I took it out on the only other person it involved, not being calm enough to realize that not every disappointment is linked to a person. Sometimes things fall apart, mistakes are made, people change and no one is to blame. And I blamed. In ways that are still making me shake my head.

The second situation is too ridiculous to even write up. I can with 100% certainty say that if I shared it, you would see my side, commiserate with me and call the other individual names I’ve already said in my head. But it wouldn’t help. She screwed up, but my reaction to it- the slamming of doors, the swearing (not so much under my breath), the ranting to everyone on the phone who shares my area code- was just as bad. She broke the rules, and instead of dealing with it- I broke them too.

It’s harder now that we are older. The rules still get broken, our feelings still get hurt, we still get kicked. And when we do get kicked, there’s no teacher to tell, so often we just kick back- with a cold word, slammed door or an unanswered call. But whether a classmate kicks us in the shin or life kicks us in the ass- we still decide how we deal with it. Whether we stomp around in the kitchen and curse the Gods or take a minute and put it in perspective before dealing with it like an adult- we choose how we respond, we choose if we kick back.

Matthew and Chloe made it out for recess. They played nicely outside and at the end of the day I told them I was proud of them for getting along so well. And I was. Because they were able to do something that I have been struggling with- getting kicked, dealing with it and then playing nicely.

I have a lot to learn from 8 year olds.

* Names have been changed to protect kickers who teach me stuff

I May Have the Best Job in the World

There is an seven year old boy in my class that reminds me of Walter Matthau and for those of you who don't know who he is, here is a refresher.

Please note that this particular child doesn’t dress like a lawyer from the 70’s- but his facial expressions are dead on. In short- this child looks miserable. Every morning my Mini- Walter comes grumbling into school. Every morning I say good morning to him and he grumps off to his desk. Every afternoon I ask him how his recess was and he mumbles something about “there’s not any fun things to do around here”. At the end of every school day I see him off with a smile and he shows me something I know he feels is a smile but looks more like a grimace. And every evening I drive home wondering what he’s thinking, if he’s getting what he needs when he’s at school.

Today the children filled out an “About Me” page. We had a new student, Juan, join the class and I thought it would be a fun activity for them to do- fill out the sheet on likes/dislikes, what they wanted to be when they grew up and favorite colors. The students worked harder and were more thoughtful in answering their questions than I had anticipated. My mini-Walter handed me his at the end of the day and I put it on my desk so I could help do up winter coats.

After the hallways cleared and the silence settled in, I grabbed the completed sheets to put up on the bulletin board. I giggled as I read how the children disliked ’spinatche’ and wanted to be ‘waitrs’ and ‘azztrotnots’ when they grew up. But my smile turned into a few hot tears as I stapled my Mini Walters sheet to the wall. He had listed his dislikes as ‘murnings’ and ‘brockolee’, but under his likes he only had one- my name.

I drove home tonight proud of myself and feeling far more confident in my teaching abilities than I ever have.

It’s funny what 8 letters written by a 7 year old can do to a girl.

Trash Day with the Neighbors

I woke up yesterday morning with the kind of start that only comes when your body is trying frantically to remind you of something your head has forgotten. I realized that today was garbage day. Bleary eyed and rocking serious bed-head I scrambled around the house trying to collect two weeks worth of garbage. I threw on a fleece coat over my pajamas and trudged on a frost covered ground, grumbling the entire way in the still dark morning.

At the end of the long driveway I dropped my bag. Despite the 30 degree temperature, I stopped to dump out the frost that had began to numb my sock-less foot and saw that I wasn’t the only person who was out. In the retirement community was an elderly man and woman were emerging from their home with trash bag in hand. She grabbed his arm to prevent a fall and they walked leisurely towards the street. The spectacled man waved me over.

He said good morning, introduced himself as John and explained that he lived next door. He offered his services if I needed help with anything and told me that his wife Audrey made excellent chicken soup- if I was ever interested.

I expressed thanks through chattering teeth and made a joke about how nice it would be to have an escort to take the garbage out with.

Audrey looked at me and explained that her and her husband always took the garbage out together. “It’s silly, but it’s something we always do. It’s our thing, I guess you could say.”

I nodded like the idea of designating 6am cold November mornings outdoors lugging trash as “couple time” made perfect sense. It didn’t- it was insane. I said my goodbyes and turned to retrace my footsteps back to a warm home. I reached the door and turned to wave at the Hamilton's and saw they weren’t looking at me. They were looking at the sky. Audrey said something and they both laughed. Then John kissed Audrey and they began their walk inside together, linked together through puffy coats and knitted mittens.

I looked at them and realized that if they were insane, I wanted to be too.

I walked inside alone.

Classy Taste

So I was at the bank today and saw a girl wearing a shirt that said:

“i fuck like a girl”

I couldn’t help but think that it would have been funny if it said “tiger” instead of “girl”. I mean, that would be a t-shirt I would throw down for. Plus, it would (finally) give me something to wear on a first date.

Shakira

I'm loving Shakira's She Wolf! So catchy and relative.

Angry, much?

This has nothing to do with my hair not cooperating or the fact that my favorite fall clothes are not fitting the way I like. It’s more than that. It’s less than that. I haven’t liked my attitude lately. And by that I mean, if I could figure out a painless way to curb stomp some sense into me, I would.

I’ve been sleeping well. I’ve been visiting friends. I’ve been working regularly. I’ve been running and reading and writing in my journal. I’ve been taking my vitamins, deep conditioning my hair, remembering to wear my glasses. I’ve paid my bills, gone for dinner, cleaned my closet.
And still?

I’ve been angry. Irrationally angry. About everything.

Slow drivers. Fast talkers. Misspelled words. Expectations I can’t meet. The Starbucks employee scoffing at my order. Being too hot. Being too cold. Dark mornings. Parents who don’t pack lunches for their children. Forecasted rain. Careless comments. Slow mail. Being on hold. Couples who make out in the grocery store. Being sneezed on. People who don’t say “thank you”. Anonymous emails. Frost on my windshield.

Of course, with anger- irrational or otherwise, comes guilt. Guilt at getting mad over the child who spills his entire snack and drink on the floor after he’s been told he needs to eat in his desk not dancing around the room. Guilt at not being ‘the fun friend’ or the even just the friend who can do everything she once promised she could. Guilt that’s the residue of all the anger I feel towards everything. Everyone.

I know that it will pass.

It has to- I’m too young to have permanent frown lines.

Daddy's Girl....Lost

It's 12 am. I can't sleep. I'm restless. I'm going through a lot of transformations right now and I'm trying to adjust to this new world without my Daddy.

The pain never goes away. I miss him so much. I seriously can't believe it sometimes. It truly is the hardest thing in the world to wake up without him. To not have him here with me is heartbreaking. Sometimes I don't even want to get out of bed. He's so missed.

I know he is no longer in pain. He is at peace. He's my world. And my world just isn't right without him here with me.

I need to see him again. I need to see his smile. I want to hug him forever because thats the only place I've ever felt safe is in my daddy's arms. He was the one that always went up to bat for me. He always knew just what to say or do to make it all better.

He always was proud to call me his 'shadow' to everyone. He was so brilliant. A man's man. He is just the most wonderful man and I'm one lucky girl to have such a great daddy.

I'm a bit lost these last few days... I miss him so much. I sometimes talk to him and that helps. He picks me up when I'm down even on these awful days when you can't seem to function because you miss him so damn much.

Daddy,

I miss you. I wish I had one more hour with you. I would do anything for a hug and kiss from my daddy. I know you don't like it when I'm upset. You hate it when I cry but sometimes it hurts so bad that I have to climb into bed and just cry myself to sleep. I know you know how much we love you...I just wish I had one more opportunity to tell you again.


Shadow

It's Time for a Change

I need new hair! I'm open to all opinions and suggestions. Feel free to leave your thoughts :)



I'm thinking of going a shade darker...

or


I'm thinking of cutting it off to my shoulders...

or


I'm thinking of adding some bangs...


I am 3o now. I've had the same hair for years. I do love it, but I want something different. Occasionally I do add 'extentions' courtesy of Michelle, but they aren't forever and pink extentions aren't exactly acceptable in school.

Excited to hear from you guys!!!

Needs Improvement

Fact: I am horrible at math.

I'm sure I mentioned it before how in college my freshmen year I got 17% on a math midterm and my teacher wrote “good improvement” on my exam, because it was.

I was always told that if I tried harder, studied longer, asked more questions, that I would improve. So I tried. I sat in the front row, never missed a class, had tutors and a calculator so complex I’m sure I could have used it to beam aboard the Endeavour spacecraft.

And I still failed.

Because I’m just not the girl who can do long division in her head without looking like she’s in physical pain.

I’m also not the girl who remembers to pick up her dry cleaning on time. I’m not the girl who can eat spaghetti without spilling it, nor am I the girl who can build a bookcase without have at least 7 leftover parts. I’m not the girl who can cook lobster to perfection, hit a baseball out of the park or sew anything more complicated than a straight line.

I’m not a girl who is able to quit a job without feeling like she failed. I’m not a girl who is able to bite her tongue when she’s mad, remember an umbrella when it looks like rain or can stop from crying at a wedding.

No matter how hard I tried to become her, the girl I’m not is the girl I will never be. And I’m okay with that. Because sometimes knowing what you can’t do- what you will never do, what you don’t want to do, allows you to appreciate everything you can do, and everything you are. Because what I see now is when I add up all the things I’m not, they will never measure who I am.

I’m still bad at math, the only difference is that I can now fully appreciate how excellent I am at so much else. I may not be able to do long division in my head but I can give a goodbye toast that will knock your socks off. I can’t multiply by 13 in rapid fire, but I can ride a horse, write a play, make the best chicken tetrazzini you will ever have. I can’t recite pi to 14 places (only 12, and this was learned only out of boredom) but I can spend an entire day with 20 kids who all want to be pirates and not kill myself, in fact- I will enjoy myself.

I’m not a girl who can apply the mathematical “FOIL” rule as quickly as others, but I can drive a muscle car in tall girl shoes.

And that seems like a good improvement.

Ho's

Dear Everyone who is planning on dressing up for Halloween this year,

Let me preface this by saying I love Halloween. I do. But the idea of searching for the perfect costume leaves me feeling drunk with happiness.

The last couple of years I’ve been a Pamela Anderson sans Kid Rock, Marie Antoinette, Pink, and one year I was Ashley Olsen while Haven was Mary-Kate.

I take Halloween seriously. So it’s with much love and respect that I come to you all with this plea: Can we all bypass going out this year dressed in our bras and calling it a costume? My heart sinks when I enter a room and find myself surrounded by groups of girls dressed in nothing more than a bra and panties, with the truly ‘creative’ girls adding wings. Adding wings when you are 97% naked doesn’t turn your outfit into something. Really. I promise. It just makes you the girl in your bra wearing wings.

Don’t get me wrong, I understand that Halloween is about expression. It’s about taking chances, finding something that sets you apart, taking a risk. And for some of you, maybe ‘taking a risk’ implies leaving your pants at home (and for some of you sadly, it does not). But I want you to know, that when it’s your third Halloween wearing the plastic bra and fishnets, you are no longer taking a risk. If you truly believe that Halloween is about expression, take a real risk and put more clothes on. Be something (or someone) unexpected. Because going out dressed like a member of *”ho train” doesn’t show me that you’ve put any thought into your costume. In fact, it just makes me think that your house burnt down, you have no friends to lend you clothes and you’ve showed up almost naked hoping someone will give you a shirt to put on.

And if I run into you while you stand there in your push up bra and and fishnets and ask you what you are (because I will do that- seeing the panic in your eyes and you try to think of what to call yourself is one of my Halloween highlights), at least have something prepared- calling yourself a whore in a roomful of similarly dressed girls isn’t original. Call yourself a Frederick’s of Hollywood catalogue girl. Then you will at least have admiration, but not my respect.
I save that for the group of girls who dress up like garden peas with bruised eyes and call themselves “The Black-Eyed Peas”.

I told you I take Halloween seriously.

A spirited plea,

Amaya

1. I’ve come to realize that my chest-size. . . is a perfect size.
2. I’ve come to realize that my job. . . can be all consuming if I let it. (The 38 unanswered emails in my inbox are my proof).
3. I’ve come to realize that when I’m driving alone. . . I sound a little less off tune and a lot more like Pink! Haha!
4. I’ve come to realize that I need. . . a new winter coat in snow white.
5. I’ve come to realize that I have lost. . . the urge to “look cool” in the winter and wear hip, thin coats. I do not care if I look like a marshmallow or the Michelin Man, or the Michelin Man after he ate the worlds biggest marshmallow, vanity is out the window for the next few months. I shall not be satisfied until I feel as though the inferno of Hell is wrapped around me. (Seriously though, coat suggestions?)
6. I’ve come to realize that I hate it when. . . I fall out of the loop with friends.
7. I’ve come to realize that if I’m drunk. . . a) I’m going to want you to be drunk with me- no matter the cost, b) tequila shots must be consumed c) I will want to listen to “Pony” on repeat and d) if you aren’t at the party? I’m going to want to call you. To tell you that I love you, that I drank tequila and that you should listen to me sing all the words of “Pony”
8. I’ve come to realize that money. . . isn’t so darn stressful when you’re receiving a regular paycheck. .
9. I’ve come to realize that certain people. . . will disappoint you for being exactly the person you thought they were.
10. I’ve come to realize that I’ll always. . . Be a daddy’s girl. Will never forget him and will always miss him.
11. I’ve come to realize that my sibling(s). . . A) are some of the greatest people I know. B) Are horrible gift givers.
12. I’ve come to realize that my mommy…..Is one of the strongest women I know. She’s also the smartest.
13. I’ve come to realize that cell phones. . . are essential. The end.
14. I’ve come to realize that when I woke up this morning. . . I was excited to go to work. I also realized how lucky that makes me.
15. I’ve come to realize that last night before I went to sleep. . . I should have spent more time taking off my mascara. This morning I looked like Courtney Love on a bender!
16. I’ve come to realize that right now I am thinking. . . I wish it were snowing here.
17. I’ve come to realize that my daddy…was the greatest gift ever given to me. He is still with me. He’s the perfect man. I want one just like him.
18. I’ve come to realize that when I get on Facebook. . . I turn into a stage 5 stalker who gets inappropriately angry when she can’t see the photos of people she’s not friends with!
19. I’ve come to realize that today. . . was better than yesterday. I’m feeling healthier.
20. I’ve come to realize that tonight. . . I shouldn’t have been so hard on Haven.
21. I’ve come to realize that tomorrow. . . is my half day! Hooray! This means I teach only in the mornings, get paid for only being in the mornings but end up staying there all day to get all my work done! Hooray! On the plus side, at least when I’m beating the hell out of the photocopier and cursing it’s stubborn, electronic existence, I can do it without worrying about being late for class.
22. I’ve come to realize that I really want to. . . do something different with my hair, buy a new dining room table, and complete daddy’s shrine.
23. I’ve come to realize that some people… will always know how to make me swoon!
24. I’ve come to realize that life. . . (I hate this question so I’m not answering it. Seriously, I can answer all these other ones but this one reminds me of Forrest Gump.
25. I’ve come to realize that this weekend. . . is going to be nine thousand different shades of awesome! J/k! It’s one of my best buds birthdays and she’s rented a skating ring, complete with bartender. It’s an 8o’s retro theme. I’m sure the girls will get ridiculusy drunk.
26. I’ve realized the best music to listen to when I am upset. . . The Little Mermaid soundtrack. I dare you not crack a smile singing Sebastian’s part in “Kiss the Girl”.
27. I’ve come to realize that my friends. . . are awesome. Further proof needed? See # 25
28. I’ve come to realize that this year. . . has been one for the record books.
29. I’ve come to realize that my ex(s). . . and the memories of the things they did will forever make me giggle.
30. I’ve come to realize that maybe I should. . . share some of the ex stories, but I’m always afraid people might be reading this…
31. I’ve come to realize that I love. . . Good people with good hearts.
32. I’ve come to realize that I don’t understand. . .Rush Limbaugh.
33. I’ve come to realize my past. . . explains so much of my present.
34. I’ve come to realize that parties. . . are better when costumed. Or there’s tequila. OR THERE’S TEQUILA AND COSTUMES.
35. I’ve come to realize that I’m totally terrified. . . of a middle aged stalker who is threatened by me because her boyfriend told her he wanted me. The psychosis doesn’t allow her to understand that don’t want him.
36. I’ve come to realize that my life. . . is far too amazing and complex to answer in one sentence. (hello perfect cop-out answer, nice to meet you. I’m your lazy friend Amaya)

This teacher needs help too

Reading aloud to children is one of my most favorite things about being a teacher.

I love how children get excited about listening to stories and learning how to read.

It wasn't until I actually began to teach, that I would realize that the students would be the ones
who would help me learn how to teach.

I now know that now matter what age they may be, they are going to be excited to sit in a reading corner.

I now know that no matter how many times you say pretzel legs or crisscross applesauce- someone in the front row will sit on her knees.

I now know that now matter how slowly you show the pictures there is always one student who will shout out, "I can't see!"I know now that expression is the key to attention.

I now know that when you stop to ask a question, you never know if you are going to get an answer or "Hey, Ms. W., I like your bracelet!"

I now know that if a bee flies in or an ant crawls by, I will have to stop reading an carefully try to help the insect exit the room. I ALSO know that if I DON'T do this there is no possible way that reading will resume until the little guest has been carried outside to safety by all twenty children.

I have been working so hard to finish setting up my room, but unfortunately there is one BIG thing missing...BOOKS! There are obviously many books to be borrowed around the school, but I am missing my own classroom library. My personal collection, simply is not enough. If by any small chance you or someone you know would like to donate used books to my classroom I know that the children would really really appreciate it.

Please email me if you would like to donate a book or two to help build our classroom library.

amayawarner@hotmail.com

A teacher has many pets!

This was hand delievered to me this morning after being out for a couple of days. I was told that the author of this nice letter allegedly called someone a fatty, threw rocks at another student's head, and took someone's shoes and threw them down the twisty slide. I said that I'm going to need proof ;-) Who could write such a sweet note and do those cruel things. Notice the V instead of W? I have my work cut out for me!!!

The Point of you is?

Setting: Friday afternoon. My classroom.

Walter*Teacha, you know what?

Me: What?

Walter: You know what the point of you is?

Me: Hmm… to make sure that you know how to read

Walter: No. To be holding my ice cream so I can get my coat on for recess.

Though I like to think that there is more of a point (or just more points?) to my life than to be an ice cream holder so a small child with poor motor skills can do up his coat, his statement charmed me – and has made me proud of the excellent way I hold his ice cream every-freaking-day.

What is the point of you?

(*And seriously, that’s how he says ‘teacher’. Teacha. He’s so damn cute he makes those Anne Geddes pictures look ugly.)

Amaya's Rules

1. Flowers will never fix everything (Unless they are my favorite flower- Stephanotis and then let’s face it, they can fix everything).


2. When you are wrong, admit it. When you are sorry, say it. When you are in love, declare it.

3. Sometimes it just won’t go your way. And in those moments, it’s perfectly acceptable to stay in your pajamas, eat a lot of cheesecake and watch Regis and Kelly (and secretly hate Kelly for being utterly perfect so early in the morning. Her arms! That hair! The wardrobe!). You get to do this for up to a week. And then you must start showering again.

4. Love isn’t always easy but it shouldn’t always be hard.

5. Unless you’ve recently underwent major eye surgery, it’s impossible for you to wear sunglasses indoors or at night without looking like a major douche.


6. When in doubt, bring wine to the party. Unless you want to be absolutely adored forever and in THAT case, bring German chocolate cake (and wine, obviously). Trust.

7. The ref won’t be able to hear you, but yelling at the television will always make you feel better. (On this note can I just say, hello football season- you have been missed).

8. Never say “no” because you are scared. Say it for a million other reasons, but never say it because you are scared of what happens if you say “yes”.

9. Condoms cost less than babies. Word.

10. People will always remember how you made them feel. So make them feel good.

I believe.

I don’t do maxi dresses (I’m too short) and I’m not really in love with granola (blame the granola binge of ‘06), but the way I talk to my class sometimes, I’m sure I’m labeled the ‘hippie teacher’. We talk about feelings and goals and quotes that inspire us. We talk about why we are learning and how we are learning it and what we can do with the knowledge we are gaining. We sometimes talk about how what we learn in school just isn’t for school, it’s for life- that every piece of information we gather is to help us create a foundation we can stand on later in life. And sometimes we just talk about how hilarious Calvin and Hobbes is.



So it came as no surprise the other day when a conversation about rights and responsibilities trickled down and twisted it’s way into a conversation about what we believe in. With ten minutes left before the bell, the kids took out paper and wrote down anything and everything they believed in 100%. It could be silly or serious or funny. It could be about religion or school or family or friends or Calvin and Hobbes (there’s a C & H fanatic in my class and he cracks me up on the regular. I’m thinking of a good alias name that suits him because his original name is so* far out).

One of the best things about being a teacher (besides July and August- actually, I don’t really believe that but I know a lot of non-teachers always make that comment in their head so I thought I’d beat them to the punch, hoo ha!) is that you get to read all the thoughts of your students. Seriously, if you have an open class, it’s like reading the diary of 15 inspired minds. Sure, sometimes you read pages of stuff like this: “I whent too the stor nd ete a peese ov chaklet cacke whith mi mom” and you brain feels like it’s on acid and you just want to insert a Jack Daniels iv after dechipering it, but a lot of the time, most of the time, you discover that if you let kids be brilliant, they are.


I was thinking about this as I was skimming through what they wrote, giggling as someone told me that they believe “Comic books are as good as regular books, maybe even better because regular books even the little baby ones don’t have as many pictures as comic books do”, when I stopped and read what one of my favorite students, Abby, had written. It was only one sentence but it made me smile. She wrote:

I BELIEVE IN GREAT BIG THINGS

Abby is not the loudest kid in my class (that’s the C & H fanatic), nor is she the most academically gifted but she’s the one student in my class who is always working. Always. Like, if a circus was right outside our window and Hannah Montana was putting on a free show and handing out chocolate bars, Abby would be just as excited as the other kids but she would keep working. So I knew that this answer, these six words weren’t a cop out, a quick way to complete the task at hand, these words were what she was feeling. Although her answer might not have been as specific as her classmates, nor as long- I do know she labored on it, and her response made me so excited for this school year and all the great big things that are ahead of us.

And if that makes me sound like the hippie teacher, I’m okay with that. No, I’m excited to be that.

What inspires you? What do you believe in?

Highlight of the Day

I brought in a framed picture I have of the Mona Lisa. It looks impressive, the frame is gorgeous- I saved it from it’s resting spot above the mens urinal in the Art Gallery I used to work at. Anyway, I brought it in to the grade 3 room when we started art and we talked about it and then asked the class if they had any questions. One of my favorite students raised his hand and asked if I had actually painted The Mona Lisa! Needless to say, any student who thinks I am capable of painting the Mona Lisa will get an automatic A. And a unicorn.

Amaya School of Cool

I've been very busy and I've recieved a few emails asking if I had died. So I thought I'd write to let you know that I am infact alive! even if I’ve spent every waking moment of the last two weeks in school and there’s a chance that an email discussing only school events is going to be as entertaining as reading the ingredients on a bottle of shampoo.

Everyday there’s roughly one thousand things I learn and my brain routinely runs out of room for everything I should know or remember. So I’ve become a post-it queen and have turned to drinking heavily while on recess supervision. (One of those confessions is false, I trust you are wise enough to establish which one).

I’ve taken to calling my classroom “The Cave”. It’s at the farthest end of the school, down the longest hallway and is the last classroom. Walking to and from my classroom from the photocopier room has become my new cardio work out. A grade 6 teacher has actually approached me and wants me to wear a pedometer because he sees me in the halls so much he’s convinced I’m walking a marathon everyday. Plus, I’m doing it in heels. In short, I’m going to have killer legs by the time this year is over. (See how I’m glass half-fulling this situation? Progress people, progress).

One of my favourite blocks is the block right before lunch when I read Judy Blume to the class. Students can choose to read their own book (and other than the 9 year old who is reading Twilight- book approved by her mom), everyone hangs on every word I say. Looking up and seeing the whole class laughing hysterically over Judy Blume is always a highlight of my day.

The teacher in the classroom next to me is the coolest women alive. Mrs. S is mid 40’s and is the kind of chick who you can imagine shaving her hair off her head and still looking amazing. I made a joke about how I’m going to have to step up my clothing choices with her beside me and she’s taken it as a personal challenge. Each morning she comes in and struts around my desks showing off her outfit. And every single day it’s been impressive. Perfect hair, thoughtfully coordinated accessories, painstakingly applied lipgloss. So not only will I have killer legs this year, I will start going to work on not looking homeless. Mostly out of shame and partly out of my competitive spirit. Either way, win.

There is a boy in grade 3- Ryan, who farts. A lot. And naturally, when he does his classmates expect him to say something acknowledging it- but he refuses. Things came to a boiling point last Thursday when his classmates complained that Ryan had once again farted and wouldn’t say ‘excuse me’. Before I could say anything, I looked at Ryan (a chubby boy with spiky hair), with crossed arms who looked at me and said “They have no proof. Smell my butt, there’s no farts there”. Of course, it sounds funny now, but I assure you- NO ONE laughs in class when this happens. I’m not sure why, maybe because his classmates are so offended or Ryan is so adamant that they can’t pin the fart on him. And because everyone takes it so seriously- I, of course, find it hilarious. So I’m the one person in a room with 20 kids who is trying not to laugh when the class discussion is centered around farting. I am a model of maturity.

My principal has heard me calling the photocopier machine a piece of shit. More than once. But in my defense? I was after school, it was JAMMED AGAIN and it IS A PIECE OF SHIT. (I already have fantasies of taking it out back and showing it who is boss- much like the fax machine incident in Office Space).

Anyway, that’s a snippet of school life. Things have definitely calmed down since school has started and I’m working on finding a balance that includes proper time for showering, sleeping and you know, catching up on all your wonderful lives. I've been neglecting all of my friends, but I will catch up, eventually!!! I hope you are all having a wonderful Monday!

Today has been good. School is so much fun. I'm actually happy to be doing something rewarding. Daddy is proud of me, I know it :)

Lots of love!

A

I'm being stalked!!!

Due to an alarming amount of stalking by a certain woman in Vienna who uses the Cox network, I am changing my blog address. I will send out a mass email to my fanclub letting you guys know my new address.

Lots of Love and Less Stalking

Dear Daddy

Today has been easier than most. I can't believe it's been 25 days since we last spoke. We've never gone this long! I miss your hugs. I miss your good morning kisses. I miss you!

You're not going to believe this, but I got a job! An honest to goodness teaching job. This year.
In a school. Where I will go to the same classroom everyday and teach grade three students about reading and writing and how to not write run on sentences like this one.

I have a job daddy! I've been working on seating charts and I've met with most of my upcoming students. I've had to attend several confrences and meetings which I detest with every particle of my being.

Mommy still asks that I sleep with her. It's hard to say no to her. This has been very hard for all of us, especially her. She lost her best friend, lover, father of her children. She didn't think she'd be a widow at such a young age. She thinks she didn't tell you she loved you enough--I know, she's crazy.

Mommy wants to start putting your stuff away next week. I think it will be therapy for her. I told her we would make it a big family project at the family home. I think that will be easier on all of us. I'm not ready to put your things away at my house. Infact, the thought of never seeing your shoes, or smelling your shirts, or seeing your gray hair on your pillow will be awful for me. I'm not ready for that. I can't give you up just yet. Not yet. You will tell me when. I find myself getting angry a lot daddy. I get mad because you fought so hard to live and then there are jerks who smoke crack, drink like fish who tend to live on forever. It's not fair. I have been asking God Why. I guess I shouldn't?

Haven has been coming around a lot. She told me that she is having a horrible time because she kept herself away from us, devoting herself to her boys and her work. You've always been a family first guy, so I know you understood. Perhaps you can offer Haven that comfort by letting her know that to ease her pain? She actually told me that what I have done for you has made her jealous. I was with you up to your last seconds of life. I'm a lucky girl! It was such an honor to help you. As weird as this may sound, I'm going to miss taking you to your appointments. As much as I hated them, I'm missing them. Dr. Bergin has called several times to check in on me. He says that Mommy will be okay in time. He told me that he knew my bond with you would never be broken, not even in death! Daddy, everyone knew how much I love you! Even strangers! You loved everyone. I got a letter from Gwyn on Weds. She, who was our banker, even said that your witty banter and humbleness will be missed. Crazy huh?

I love you. Dinner with mom now.


A

My fellow Blackberry users:


Expect multiple messages from me today discussing how my day is being wasted by listening to strangers tell me that I shouldn’t tell parents to ‘fuck off’ if I’m angry at them and I should also not participate in wet t-shirt contests in my spare time. Even if I know I could win. (Because let’s face it, I would). I will try to keep the swearing down to a minimum. Ditto excessive exclamation marks (which will be the only way I feel I can clearly illustrate my rage).

Sorry in advance,
Maya

So there

Ok, so life has changed. A lot! I'm not happy with it, but I have to somehow pick up the pieces. I've been stuck in the deepest, darkest hole for days. I haven't slept well because my mind is focused on my daddy.

My family and I have lost something that will never be replaced. It's been absolutely devastating. Most of my friends have been wonderful. Most have even respected my wishes. Others have been distant and unapologetic for their own selfish reasons. It's really sad to say, but it really leaves a lasting taste. There is no excuse for their behavior. Unfortunately it has changed me. I'm always going to remember their actions or lack their of. I'm going to do what daddy would do -- he would never judge them, he would pray for them.

I'm not going to waste anymore energy on wondering why. I'm going to focus on Daddy's causes and his legacy. I'm a proud daughter.

In other news, we recieved a card from 'Monica' who was there when Mommy had to stop CPR at 10:25, who helped us throughout the entire process. She touched on how close my entire family was, how odd it is to see that these days. She was inspired by our bond and how our extended family and friends trickled in as they heard the news. She picked up the phone and called her own parents in AZ and told them how much she loved them. Just another person that my sweet daddy touched.

I spent most of my adult life taking care of daddy. I even have questions as to if I did enough. I basically moved them in to my house 2 hours away from our home in McLean. I just ask that you spend time with your parents, let them know how much you love them because this has been the worst pain I've ever experienced. AML was a walk in the park. I've lost a brother--that was hard. Losing my daddy has been a nightmare. I did everything I could for daddy. I wouldn't want anyone else to ever experience this pain with doubts.

It's raining, it's foggy. It's ugly out. I hope my day goes better.

My world has turned upside down

With daddy's passing, the world has been turned upside down. Today has been bad. I miss him more and more each day. I can't believe it's been 17 days since I've seen him. I keep thinking that I will wake up from this and I will see him soon. Only this is real.

I came home to my house alone tonight. It was the scariest, loneliest feeling in the world. I miss him sooo much. Everywhere I go, people are still apologizing.

T--I'm sorry about the flowers from you and Chris. I don't want any reminders of his death. I know you meant well, but I can't handle flowers. That was a very nice gesture.

Dirty Dancing is on right now and it's nice to see a young, healthy, sexy, Patrick Swayze.

Mommy had another bad day, with many more to come.

My relationship with God has grown stronger. He knows how much I miss my daddy.


I'm sick of crying. To bed I go.

A New Day

So I went to daddy yesterday, I watched the sunset there and I just told him about my day. I went to bed feeling scared and alone. This morning I woke up upset because he isn't here and I said to myself that this is real, not a dream.

Does anyone know how to preserve the smell on clothes? Any secrets or suggestions?

Mommy is cleaning my house! Normally it's me doing all the work. I guess it helps her feel better. Whatever works. It's better than seeing her just crying. Yesterday was awful for all of us. She told her sister that it hit her like a ton of bricks that he's gone and he's not coming back. I'm actually going to talk to a medical professional. Im an emotional roller coaster. I was told i'm still in denial by someone who knows firsthand what i'm dealing with.

Daddy's death has brought me closer to God. I know I can count on God to get me through this. One day I will see him again. I just have to realize that daddy was ready, he was tired, and when he told me in the hospital bed before he passed that he wanted to go home, he meant home to eternity. He fought a good fight for 18 years. I enjoyed everyday, every minute I spent with him. He's the only man I ever trusted. He was the man that held me tight when I was scared. He helped me through so many things. Now I turn to him and ask what would daddy do?

I'm going to make today a good day. I'm tired of crying all of the time.

Its been 13 days

It's been 13 days since I last held his hand. It's been 13 days since I last saw his beautiful face with life. It's been 13 days since I saw that smile that lit up a room. It's been 13 days of torture.

My life has been turned upside down. I miss him so much. I still look for him and I imagine him with me everywhere I go. I'm assuming these are coping mechanisms.

I always knew he was sick and as much as the doctors tried to 'prepare' us for this, you never get prepared for death. It's the loneliest, most awful feeling in the world. I have always been a daddy's girl so a part of me went on with him when he passed.

My sisters and brothers all have children, significant others. I chose to take care of daddy and subconciously I put my life on hold. I lived and breathed with my daddy. So when my family tells me I have to get it together, I can't! I am a daddy's girl who was hooked at his hip.

My mother refuses to throw away the flowers. The smell breaks my heart even more each time I smell that awful scent. I've never liked the smell of flowers anyway.

I am sitting across from daddy's chaise. I imagine him sitting there and drinking his coffee. I imagine him smiling at me without being in pain.

I really had a lot of great times with him. I miss his singing. I miss his wink*. Life has been horrible lately. I have put all of my faith in God who will get me thru this.

Please keep us in your prayers. This has been the worst experience of my life. But God only gives me as much as I can handle.

Daddy

Daddy died on Monday August 10, 2009 at 9:03 am. He was very sick when he passed. Today is his birthday. It has been the hardest thing to date to endure. Its been bad.

Today, it's his birthday. Happy Birthday daddy. I love him sooo much.

Family

Most of you have already heard from me and have heard about what went down lastnight. We didn't end up going to the Chris Issac concert because Haven got bent out of shape. I adore my sister and I adore my family. It's has always been family first.

Today has been ugly. It has been downright nasty. I'm always having a crisis of some sort with my family. Mostly because we see too much of each other. This one is different because there is an innocent person involved.

I understand and I have a lot of empathy for Haven and her postpartum. I would do anything for her at any cost. Lastnight wasn't cool with me.

I'm not mad at Haven. I'm mad because I allowed this to happen. I'm afraid there is no fixing anything at this point. I dont blame my family. Only, I'm the one to blame. I allowed all of this to happen. I know there is no undoing what was done now.

I can live without my family. I just hope I can live with myself.

There is only one way to fix it and I'm going to do it as soon as the dust settles. In the meantime I'm going on hiatus for a while and most of you won't be hearing from me for a while. Cross your fingers.

I'm off to my grandparents tonight to help them, my house will be empty when I get back. I'm happy that way.

**Daddy is doing ok**

Chris Issac

Concert tommorrow night at wolf trap. I had a huge crush on him back in the day. Lets see if he still has it. Pictures to follow.

Highlight of the Year

Meeting Michelle Obama and her girls. They stopped in for an impromptu visit. The CIA shut down the Caverns for 3 hours while they where siteseeing. They were in awe. They were courteous, but not allowing cameras because it was a private visit.

Michelle looked chic in khaki capri's and a lemon colored blouse. Very trendy and cute. I thought she was always attractive but seeing her in person does not do her justice. The girls are actully cuter in person too.

They bought souvenirs and shopped around in the gift shop.

They went on to eat at Brookeside Restaurant in Luray where Michelle had a turkey burger, no bun, and roasted summer veggies. The kids had burgers and fries, and the grandmother had a grilled chicken salad. Then they all left in Black Surbuban SUV's. Valerie Jarrett was very cool too, I should add.

They then went on to Charlottesville and visited Monticello. Their visits were educational as well.

Hola!

Daddy has had a very nice weekend. He's been actually going out of the house and spending time outdoors. It's better than sleeping all day in a bedroom. His doctors adjusted his medications and is more alert, more active. He's not quite back to his old self, but I will take what I can get! Last weekend they said "There is nothing more we can do, he's dying." My life has changed tremendously because of that one statement.

As for me I'm back to excercising and dieting. I am managing to do 30 mins of cardio each day and I also swim about 20 laps everynight before my shower, before bed. I'm dealing with a nasty cold but I am hoping to get over that quickly!!!!

My girlfriends are planning our annual Girls trip. We're thinking of doing a ten day, ten major city tour. It's still up in the air. We shall see.

I haven't been working much because I have a lot of things going on at home that involves my paw paw and my daddy. Work will always be there.

Whats new with you?

Thanks

Thanks for the many phone calls, voicemails and emails! In the short few hours that I posted the last blog I've had many people voice their concern. I said earlier "I'm dying with him" I meant a part of me is dying too. I can't even think straight or clearly. I apologize for being so vague! I'm not a quitter and I would never hurt myself.

Just pray for my daddy. We've been told it's only a matter of hours or days. I've been told this for years and I want to stay positive. He's heavily medicated and tends to sleep a lot.

Haven is here with Luke. Ian is sleeping on the couch, Becca is sleeping in Isaiah and Chandler's room tonight. My house is full and it's so quiet.

We all had the talk today after my doctors appointment. I started yelling and screaming and lashing out because their burying him before he's even dead. It wasn't pretty. It wasn't. I was mean. I made my brother cry. He told me that I need to get myself because I'm a basketcase. I couldn't help it. I lashed out at them. We later apologized and we all sat by the pool and just watched the sunset. I just want a million more sunrises and sunsets with my daddy. What kills me is I know that I won't.

I love him so much.

Update on Daddy

Daddy is home with us. He's weak. He's tired. We've been told what this means. I just pray for more time with my daddy. Please, Please pray for us. He's my everything. I just don't know what to do with myself. I'm a wreck. I'm scared to death. His friends from NoVa are trickling in. They all know it's time. I just want my daddy forever. I'm dying with him.

100 things you need to know

100. Girls enjoy always having something kind of wrong, like a headache or cramping or something. Remember: No matter how bad it sounds, she's going to outlive you.

99. Most women will not have sex for the first time with a guy unless their legs are shaved. If your date shows up and you spot stubble, she's trying to keep herself in line.

98. No matter how much she reassures you, if you can't get a hard-on, she'll assume you're not attracted to her.

97. Beware of your girlfriend's single party friend or gay bud. They want her to be single with them and will encourage any bad behavior as often as possible.


96. Jewelry. Now you always know what to get her for a last-minute gift.

95. The sight of you in your socks and underwear is the biggest turn-off in the world.

94. Never trust a girl who has few girlfriends. She doesn't get along with other women because she's either bat-shit crazy or just plain mean.

93. Girls who say "I love sports" are lying. Girls who ask you what time the game is on, without specifying which game they're talking about, are not.

92. A random hookup is more likely to result in pregnancy, because a woman has more sex when she's most fertile.

91. She still has all the love letters and cards from her past boyfriends.

90. Just started dating? Women want you to drive, even if it's their car.

89. A girl would prefer to get a $100 gift from Tiffany & Co. than a $500 gift from Fortunoff. Why? Because her friends will ask where she got it!

88. If I give you my number on Friday, Tuesday and Wednesday are your best bets to score a date. Monday is too desperate and Thursday is too late (Claire, 27).

87. Your female coworkers are obsessed with the fact that on average they receive less pay than male counterparts and the fact that they work less overtime and get pregnant is irrelevant to the discussion.

86. Laying a towel down over the wet spot is like putting your jacket over a mud puddle for her, you noble bastard.

85. A recent study revealed that natural blondes could be extinct in 200 years, so unless she's Norwegian, her towhead might be bottled.

84. Sixteen percent of American men have been with a prostitute: scientific proof most women are decent in bed.

83. Women always want to believe what you're saying is true.

82. What do women really want in bed? More blankets. They get colder than men.

81. The threesome is not about you; it's about the two girls. If you're lucky enough to score one with your girlfriend, enjoy sex with the other one because there's a good chance it'll end the relationship.

80. If women have an excuse to take a pill, they'll take it.

79. Never trust the woman who gives you the best blow job you've ever had

78. I hate when my boyfriend is sweaty and tries to lie down on top of me or cuddle after I've come. Wait five minutes (Erin, 21).

77. The average woman kisses 79 men before getting married.

76. She hates your X-BOX more than she lets on. Blow her off for some gaming and shell soon stop wasting time on a dork like you.

75. Women who are obsessed with their dogs also like to keep their men on a short leash.

74. Girls who buy their men lap dances and pretend to enjoy it are kidding themselves. They're trying to keep him happy with some controlled freedom (Suzy, 31).

73. Over the course of her life, a woman will use 10 men for every one she loves. If you lent her your car or helped her move and didn't get laid, you're one of the 10.

72. During emergencies, women are likely to remain calmer than men, though it should be noted that inventing minor crises on a weekly basis gives them more practice.

71. Women grow hairs in a lot of the same places that men do i.e. lower abdomen and nipples, we just get rid of them (Katie, 26).

70. Unless they're lesbians, she won't approve of your hanging out with other girls. Even if they're ugly. And, really, even if they're lesbians.

69. If you have something to hide, she'll find it.

68. Eighty-five: The number of males per 100 females in Gary, Indiana (lowest male-to-female ratio of any city with a population of 100,000-plus). The highest male-to-female ratio is in Salinas, California: 114 males for every 100 females.

67. Kiss her before two dates have gone by or you'll be friend-ed.

66. They can't live without tension. Every once in a while she's going to pick a fight with you for no reason. Accept this as a running, inevitable theme and your relationship will make a lot more sense.

65. The most painless way to end an argument: Let her win.

64. An online dating services survey found that a woman's ideal man has brown hair and blue eyes.

63. In the US, 21 percent of women ages 18 to 59 hold out for their honeymoon.

62. A British study claims a woman's chances of getting married drop by 40 percent for every 16-point rise in her IQ. The same increase in IQ for a man boosted his chances of getting married by 35 percent.


61. When a woman tells you her problems, she does not want you to offer solutions.

60. Women often cite manhandling of breasts as the biggest foreplay faux pas.

59. When I'm drunk, I can't come. Not even with a vibrator (Lauren, 35).

58. If they're going to do it, most wives cheat between the ages of 18 and 29.

57. Most women think they're better drivers than they are. Don't point this out while she's at the wheel or she'll freak and crash.

56. Women ingest about half the lipstick they apply, which means they eat approximately one to three sticks per year.

54. A woman might say she just wants sex, but sleep with her for a while and she'll change her tune. I've known so many women who think they can pull this off, but they always develop feelings for the guy (Evie, 22).

53. According to the American Association of Facial Plastic and Reconstructive Surgery, Angelina Jolie's lips were the most requested celebrity feature among all female patients in 2004.

52. Despite always complimenting another woman's short haircut, she secretly celebrates having one less competitor, since men prefer long hair.

51. Don't call her cute. In her mind it's the same as "not vomit-inducing". Sexy: OK. Hot: YES. Fucking awesome: only if she's at least slightly buzzed.

50. Women often buy shoes a size or two small because they're in denial about the size of their feet which they can't stand.

49. They dream of one day peeing in a urinal.

48. Women know where they stand looks-wise but worry about being considered cool, about which they're unsure.

47. According to the U.S. Bureau of Statistics, 23 percent of 18- to 34-year-old women live with their parents, versus 31 percent of you losers.

46. Women want to talk dirty, but they're afraid you won't respect them in the morning. Reassure her that letting go in bed doesn't make her less classy and shell probably go wild. Jäger helps.

45. Twenty-three percent of this magazine's readers are women.

44. A psycho jealous girl will do anything to keep her man: including anal.

41. If she suddenly cuts her hair short, it might mean she no longer cares what you think of her. But that doesn't mean she doesn't care about someone else's opinion.

40. About half of all brides will lose a good friend over a ridiculous bridesmaid squabble.

39. It never hurts to say you're sorry, even if you don't mean it.

38. Let her beat you at something once in a while (poker, chess, Ping-Pong) and she'll be more likely to give you what you want: like some peace and quiet.

37. Women's public bathrooms are about three times more disgusting than men's.

36. At one point or another, I've gone through your things looking for any evidence from past relationships. I'm talking photographs, postcards, mementos, address books, diaries. If you don't like it, get rid of this stuff before letting me in your apartment. It's not about trust; it's about curiosity, and it drives us crazy till it's been satiated (Caroline, 28).

35. Like you, girls hate nothing more than a clingy partner who needs them every eight seconds.

34. Chick rock strikes a deeply primal chord inside women while simultaneously revolting men. Just sit back and let her sing the Sarah McLachlan or Ani DiFranco song. It's only about four minutes long.

33. The average woman owns eight bras and wears each one five times before washing. Shasta!

32. Girls will not sit on any toilet outside their own home or a five-star hotel. Everywhere else they're hovering above the toilet in a squat.

31. Got a new girl coming over? Your (tidy) bathroom should include clean linen, a box of Puffs Plus, and several full rolls of TP.

30. Don't caress our faces while were kissing, unless you really, really, really like us (Rachel, 21).

29. On a first date, women never order what they really want to eat.

28. Breast augmentation surgery has grown by 257 percent since 1997. The most popular size? C-cup. As if you didn't know.

27. Gain her trust when you're out by calling her at 10 P.M. She'll go to bed content you're thinking of her, even if you're slurping Jell-O shots off some skank's cleavage.

26. Put down the Drakkar and grab a box of Good & Plenty. Women are turned on by the scent of black licorice.

25. At least one of her friends wants to sleep with you.

24. A good but flawed man is a fixer-upper gem, and women love nothing more than home improvements.23. Every woman is self-conscious about her ass. Tell her you love her ass and you'll see it more often.

22. If you want more sex, tell your girl an attractive woman hit on you that day. It works every time.21. More than half of surveyed females between 18 and 25 would prefer to be run over by a truck than be fat.

20. All women think they're smarter than their partners in some significant way.

19. The more piercings she has, the more places she'll let you put it.

18. Once in a while, let her pick the movie and don't complain about it.

17. Any good woman will tell you, honesty is not always the best policy.

16. Chicks aren't afraid to get kinky; you just have to have the nerve to ask.

15. Girls don't want to date doormats. So make her proud and refuse to give up bowling night with the guys.

14. Don't take a woman to a concert you really want to see: she'll just want to leave early.

13. Women appreciate a big penis, but having one doesn't give you an excuse to suck at foreplay (Elena, 28).

12. Studies show women are more attracted to macho guys near ovulation. The rest of the month, they're drawn to good providers, otherwise known as chumps.

11. She likes one of your friends

10. Ugly girls like to hang out with pretty girls because it makes them feel like they're more attractive. Pretty girls hang out with ugly girls for the same reason.

9. The minute she decides she's even mildly interested in you, she starts making mental pictures of what your kids would look like and imagining her first name with your last.


8. Sixty percent of women in the United States color their hair, according to LOréal (who are obviously hoping they can peer-pressure the other 40 percent).

7. Dated a stripper? Keep your mouth shut, stupid.

6. Rub a sheet of medium-grade sandpaper across your face. That's your five o'clock shadow when you kiss her. Now rub that sandpaper on your inner thigh (mind you, we're not suggesting you shave).

5. Female serial killers tend to use poison rather than guns or knives.

4. Foghat's Slow Ride is not about a trip in the car. Get the hint?

3. The one breakup line she'll never be able to argue you out of: I'm sorry, but I no longer have feelings for you.

2. Buying a present for your girl? She'll hate it (and you) if she finds out you took along another woman to help pick it out.

1. You'll probably never know how many guys she's slept with. The standard lie is five. Which really means about 12.

What a girl wants

I want fresh squeezed lemonade, a sidewalk cafe, and a female friend. I want the perfect sundress and sunglasses. I want a self cleaning house and a self-refilling checking account. I want porch furniture and a thunderstorm. I want a freaking in-person conversation. I want a new pair of flip flops and some flirty sandals. I want to make some new friends. I want bookshelves and throw pillows. I want my family to go back to normal. I want everyone to communicate soley through email/text messages and in person conversations. I want to write letters and have them answered with letters…on paper…sent with a stamp. I want a workout routine I enjoy. I want a limitless decorating budget to Pottery Barn. I want to go on a date with my best friend, all dressed up. I want a novel that sucks me in and leaves me breathless. I want clear water, sandy beaches, and fresh mangoes. I want the slip and slide I had when I was nine and watermelon cut off the rind. I want to have a sleepover with my girl friends, complete with chick flicks, pop corn, and boy talk. I want air in my bike tires and trips to the park. I want to feel like I don’t waste my days. I want a part time job that pays like a full time job, benefits, and free peach ice tea. I want a device that reads my favorite blogs to me while I cook or write letters. I want some more. And some smores. I want a blank book, unlined, with my favorite pen. I want sunscreen that smells like Coconut and a bowl of fresh picked strawberries. I want to change my point of view. I want to step out of my comfort zone. I want to go back to my senior year in high school and talk myself out of teasing my father about going to Tech. I want Ina Garten to teach me how to cook and George Carlin to be my buddy. I want someone to hold me accountable for missing my workouts. I want calorie free ice cream and baby spinach that’s less than $2.00 a package. I want a glass pitcher on my counter and fresh flowers on my table. I want cheap beer, a live band, and a slightly slutty outfit. I want a manicure that doesn’t hurt and an eyebrow wax. I want a simple silver necklace that goes with everything. I want to write a weekly column for a local paper, without topic or genre, just “The World According to Amaya.” I want to find the other Friends Season 1 that I've lost. I want to be better about asking for what I need. I want to be a little more open with the people who love me. I want to skip the uncomfortable “what’s going on” phone call with the parent I hung up on and just have things go back to semi-normalcy. I want a fairy godmother that will plan my sister's wedding and pull it off, all for $1,000. I want a top shelf long island, 70 degrees, and a patio at sunset. I want a new wardrobe, a better sense of what tomorrow will bring, Los and a pony.

Ok, maybe not a pony.

Tonight

Tonight Michael Jackson's spirit is free and I'm channeling him. Becca and I are watching old videos of this genius. It's sad you see, because there will never be another like him.

We can't choose our favorite MJ video.

I'm loving Dirty Diana a lot right now.
http://http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Fl4-VyPR4Hs
or

You Rock My World
http://http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e3wShd_bX8A


And the one that made me cry; not because it's a great song, but because I remember as a child in the backseat of my parents car on road trips with my brothers and sisters where we would each sing a part of this song. I love being a child of the 80's
http://http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jzw6GiqZyD0


I have a feeling Michael was deeply disconnected. Madonna was at one time too, however Kabbalah saved her. Michael never got reconnected. Tonight Michael's soul is free and he's moonwalking in heaven. I know Brent and Erin must be starstruck and very happy to have him there.

RIP MJ!

How does it happen?

Maybe you meet in a coffee shop- no, of course you don’t, who ever meets in a coffee shop? Maybe you meet in a crowded pub when his beer splashes your arm and as you wipe it dry you rack your brain thinking of all the clever things you always wanted to say if you were ever to meet a boy like this. Or maybe you meet through friends or online or maybe you meet at work- and through a handful of casual conversations discussing weekend plans and the weather you decide you like this boy.

However it happens, you meet.

You have all those conversations that you suspect no one else ever has. A thousand inside jokes are born, a million stories are filed away, kept safe for you to bring up and reference later just to show this person that you remember everything they’ve told you. That you feel all their stories are valuable enough to keep forever- worthy of you shoving aside room in your already crowded head for the memories they hold dear. You remember the name of his cousin he ran out of school with on the first day of school, you laugh as he tells you stories of himself as a child and while driving to work you find yourself humming the tune he said he’d play at our wedding.

It’s easy, at first. The jokes, the stories, the late nights discussing everything your mind touches. No topic is left untouched, no opinion is not worth sharing. You sometimes feel empty- not as though you are less but as though you’ve shared everything you could and it feels wonderful.

Of course you are amazed that someone feels the same way. You are surprised by their thoughtful gestures, their words, the way they remember what kind of flowers you like and goes out of his way to ship them from Madagascar. The stories they save to tell you, the way they know exactly what words will save you when you are upset, the letter they write to principals of the world demanding they hire you when you admit you are scared you will never get a job. You are surprised by it all- each action, each word more than anything you ever could have admitted wanting. And although there’s a multitude of factors involved that are less than perfect, you find yourself marveling at how perfect your world is.

Time goes by. Quirks become less endearing, words have double meaning, reality fills in the cracks, you go to bed angry. You go to bed sad. Not only because you are seeing that it’s not as easy as it once was- but because you discover there are times neither of you are willing to back down, neither of you are willing to stop something that’s started, to call a time out and wait until cooler heads prevail. You are sad to realize that there are times when you would both rather be right than happy. And you are heartbroken to discover that perhaps what you want isn’t the same thing at all.

And what worries you isn’t the fight at hand or the heartbreak that you currently feel, it’s the idea of someone who has become so important to you ever leaving. You know that such thoughts make you sound crazy, like the girl you vowed you’d never be but you play games where you lift him out of your life and see where the empty gaps are and suddenly you realize how much this person adds to your world- and how different it would be if they were gone. Of course you know you would survive without them but it’s the idea that you don’t want them to go, that with a clear realization of how dramatic it all sounds- that you are happier with them than without, which keeps you up at night.

So you are left with a choice, you are always left with a choice. You can choose to accept this person as they are- in any form you can have them, without conditions or restraints even if it means it’s less than what you hoped for or you can not have them at all and live in a world that’s a little more grey. And so you choose them. Of course, you choose them. There may not be a fairy tale ending, your heartbreak might engulf you for a time- but you will crawl out of all of it with a good friend beside you who will remind you of how perfect your world can be, even if only for a little while.

And that is how it is.

Through my eyes

Things I believe in….

I believe that “sleeping on it” always helps figure out life’s big problems. Unless you are sleeping on a rock, then I’m against it.

I believe if your $15 lip gloss makes you feel like a million bucks, it’s worth it.

I believe that the only thing more dangerous than a president with a narrow minded personal agenda, is a public who votes him into office. Twice.

I believe in forgiving people, not for them, but for yourself. I believe, this is easier said than done.

I believe that everyone belongs to someone.

I believe that drinking alone doesn’t make you an alcoholic. Only drinking alone, maybe…

I believe that a true, honest, platonic friendship rarely can occur between a man and woman, but that it can occur. I believe I’m cynical about this because I’m much more like Harry than Sally.

I believe the hardest lesson to learn is that you can’t help who you love, and trying to understand why you do, will lead to a weekly therapist appointment and a strange love affair with late night television.

I believe that you don’t have to call your best friend at 3am, to prove she’s your 3am friend.

I believe everyone looks prettier when they are happy and are happier when they are feeling pretty.

I believe in thank you notes, tipping even when the food wasn’t great, and solo break dancing performances at weddings.

I believe that crying when your sports team loses a big game is perfectly acceptable- crying every time they lose a game, is not.

I believe in regrets, and that I’m a girl who needs to say I have them.

I believe every song sounds better live, every pie tastes better homemade and every shoe is more fabulous when it’s on sale.

I believe teachers are undervalued. I believe I think this because I am, was, a) a teacher and b) someone who sees on a daily basis the gigantic impact a teacher has on students. I also believe that anyone who utters the phrase ‘two month holiday’ in regards to how easy teachers have it, has never heard the phrase ‘ school wide lice outbreak’.

I believe that money provides freedom, and freedom provides happiness.

I believe “I’m sorry” always sounds better than “I apologize”.

I believe you can love someone more deeply and clearly than ever before, and still be the absolutely wrong person for them. I believe that knowing this, doesn’t always bring comfort, in fact, it usually doesn’t.

I believe that a woman should choose what she does with her body. I also believe, that abortion shouldn’t be used as a form of birth control. I believe that this is a topic that needs more than three sentences to be fully explained.

I believe opening your presents on Christmas Eve is cheating.

I believe that forgiving someone doesn’t mean you need to be friends with them.

I believe if someone wants to propose marriage to you, they will. I believe that asking for a proposal is asking for something I would never want.

I believe in the usefulness of interactive toys, light up games and sturdy Baby Einstein books. I also believe that an empty refrigerator box is the best gift you can give a child.

I believe that unless you voted, you haven’t earned the right to complain about the government.

I believe every success I’ve had has been the result of parents who gave me a truckload of confidence and an eye for great handbags.

I believe people need to let the Anna Nicole thing go. Seriously. Charges against her ex bf and baby daddy?!

I believe being ‘complicated’ doesn’t make you interesting. Some of the most fascinating people I know are those who live life simply, without the tanglements of drama.

Physically Exhausted, Emotionally Bankrupt

Thats all.

I've changed my mind

I Just Can't Stop Loving You is my favorite MJ song. I can't stop listening to his music. I've always been a fan. I just realize today how timeless his music is. There will never be another Michael.

How freaking cute is this?

This little mini is only $40! It's perfect for work! Soooooooooo cheap and cute. It's JCrew of course.

Be still my heart!

The Embossed Cotton Aubrey Halter dress from JCREW. Adoreable for summer soirees :)

I want this in pink, black, and daffodil! It's on sale for $78

Refreshing morning, not so much.

I spent most of last night awake, monitoring my dad. I did however manage to sleep in this morning. I slept til 10 am. Thats unheard of! I loved every second of it too.

Kennedy and Emily awoke me. We're heading to the Green Way on our bikes and having a picnic.

I'm hoping today will be better. It's not looking so nice at this point. More on that later.

Have you ever felt as if nothing you ever do is good enough? Even though it was supposed to have been a nice gesture, even after the fact that somehow they always twist it around and make you feel like shit for not dotting all the i's and crossing all of the T's. Hindsight is 20/20.
I wouldn't have even bothered, looking back. That nice gesture that didn't happen has just ruined my day.

My favorite MJ song

Hey Pretty Baby with the high heels on

You Give Me Fever

Like I've Never,

Ever Known

You're Just A Product Of Loveliness

I Like The Groove Of Your Walk,

Your Talk, Your Dress

I Feel Your Fever

From Miles Around

I'll Pick You Up In My Car

And We'll Paint The Town

Just Kiss Me Baby

And Tell Me Twice

That You're The One For Me

The Way You Make Me Feel

(The Way You Make Me Feel)

You Really Turn Me On

(You Really Turn Me On)

You Knock Me Off Of My Feet

(You Knock Me Off OfMy Feet)

My Lonely Days Are Gone

(My Lonely Days Are Gone)

I Like The Feelin' You'reGivin' Me

Just Hold Me Baby

And I'mIn Ecstasy

Oh I'll Be Workin' From NineTo Five

To Buy You Things

To KeepYou By My Side

I Never Felt So In Love Before

Just Promise Baby, You'll Love Me Forever more

I Swear I'm Keepin' You Satisfied'

Cause You're The One For Me

The Way You Make Me Feel

(The Way You Make Me Feel)

You Really Turn Me On

(You Really Turn Me On)

You Knock Me Off Of My Feet Now Baby-Hee

!You Knock Me Off OfMy Feet)

My Lonely Days Are Gone

(My Lonely Days Are Gone)

I Never Felt So In Love Before

Promise Baby,

You'll Love MeForevermore

I Swear I'm Keepin' You Satisfied

'Cause You're The One ForMe . . .