31 August 2005

Her First Official Freak Out

Eleven days down, one-hundred-sixty-nine to go. SIGH.....

Goddammit. Today's one of those days I wish I had someone to go home to other than the dog, someone to tell me that I'm not a total failure, I'm not a terrible person, I'm not wasting my life, and I'm not on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Also, I could use a hug.


Me: Don't just scratch the surface; go deep. Go beyond the obvious. Think outside the box.
Kurt: You stole that from Taco Bell!
Me: Excuse me?
Kurt: Except it's "eat outside the box."
Me: Oh..... okay. It was an expression before it became an advertising campaign.
Kurt: You stole it!
Me: Um. It's a phrase that means, like, don't just be normal, don't just do the obvious thing.
Kurt: Except it's "eat outside the box," right? That's what they say on Taco Bell.

Me: Argh! (after an extremely long day of chatty chatty chattyness)
Me: You guys! It's so frustrating that you're always talking, because you're SO smart, and you're SO creative, and it seriously drives me insane that you don't respect yourselves enough to listen to yourselves! You're all so intelligent and awesome and you deserve quiet time to learn to hear your own thoughts, but you need to respect yourselves enough to be quiet and trust your own thoughts.
Kids: Uh........ we're smart? We're not smart!
Me: You ARE smart, you're SO smart, and you can do so much better than this!
Jody: Um, Miss? How come 3rd period doesn't have a mission statement?
Me: I don't have a class 3rd.
Jody: Well what do you do then?
Me: That's when I go into the padded room and try to find some semblance of mental wellness!
Kids: AWESOME! I want to go in the padded room!


from a seventh grader's letter to his future self:
"I'd love for you to write me back. Thanks, your biggest fan"

from a seventh grader's letter to her past self:
"Dear Past Self, Growing up as a kid, you were pretty lame. Don't worry, because a great future is in store...."

from an 8th grader's personal mission statement:
"I am here because my parents made me. They wouldn't home school me. I guess I have to learn something.... I am going to put out 9% in all my classes. I have to put out 110% every time I nod my head to call for the gate."

from an 8th grader's letter to himself: "...just writing to give you a few pointers:
-- duck when Joey throws the rebar
-- always stand back when shooting the GI Joes with a pellet gun. It really hurts to have it ricoche in your face.
-- always be sure to carefully crawl throu the barbed wire fences, and always wear gloves when you break bottles.
Sincerely, Future You"

from an 8th grader's letter to her future self:
"Dear Future Me, You better not have any kids or I'll go into the future and beat you with a stick."

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