Smarty Pants

Generation Gap

noreply@blogger.com (Briony) — Sat, 07 Nov 2009 04:47:00 +0000

Who actually says "making love" when talking about the act of "having sex"? According to my poll (Bodie & my recollections from, ahem, several previous relationships), no one actually says this. At least, not anyone from my generation when they are sober and having sex. However, if I were to crack open any romance novel - okay, almost any - all of the characters refer to sex at some point as "making love".

Is this a generational thing? Or am I a romantic meat-head who, having only ever been in relationships with other meat-heads, has a distorted perception of acceptable terminology when discussing sex while in the midst of attempting, executing, and reviewing it?

(just covering all my bases there)

Assuming a generation gap is to blame, my shoot-from-the-hip armchair-analysis of the "sex" vs. "make love" lingo says it goes like this:

I learned in an anthropology class (in 1999!) that marriage allows a man to have legitimate sexual access to a woman and that is why marriage became so cool from a societal standpoint way, way, way back in the day (you know, before the development of an agrarian society and the creation of all of those reality-based wedding shows). My theory is that people in previous generations used the term "make love" when referring to sex because it was an amorphous term that, while being fuzzy in denotation but having definite connotation, brought a whole slew of positive emotional associations to the physical relationship. Which is great if you're the man because now you have just legitimized the out-of-wedlock sex that you are REALLY wanting to have with your lady. And now she's on the emotional hook because sex is bad but making love is okay because I love you, baby. And I don't know how my body works, or how your body works, or how babies are made, and I listen to Bruce Springsteen and everything seems to work out okay for him.

People from my generation use the term "have sex" because we are a product of public school sex education. Everything is clinical, proper names are used for all body parts (I don't remember what the hell 'seminal vesicles' are, but I can still spell those motherfuckers after 15 years), and we are told that if we can't discuss sex with a straight face then we aren't ready to have it. Also, we are in high school during the Clinton-era and have access to the many resources that help us to make informed, scientific-sounding choices regarding how we are going to explore and use our bodies in a sexual way.

Hmmm...now do I have a point...yes! Unfortunately, I am not ready or willing to turn this entirely random thought into an entire master's thesis in psychology or women's studies, etc. But I am quite curious now to find out if I am at least a little bit right in my analysis.

And, as a special bonus, I am linking to what I believe is the most loathsome song ever created to patronize young women who are ready to explore sex but have unfortunately chosen an absolute douchebag to do it with.

You're welcome, Internet.

There Are So Many Places This Could Go

noreply@blogger.com (Briony) — Sun, 10 May 2009 04:15:00 +0000

(45 minutes before my first Open House at this school)

Mr. L: Like, not in the whore way, but...

(awkward pause)

Me: This is an interesting way to begin a conversation...

According to Mr. L, I am the free-spirited Jenny to his Forrest Gump. That is quite possibly the sweetest thing a co-worker has ever said to me. Although, come to think of it, we never did establish or define the whole Jenny/Forrest analogy. I think after that he bailed on the conversation as fast as he could. Smart, smart man. Mr. L totally rocks - even though he still hasn't confirmed reading my award-winning recipe for Flan-ing the Flames of Desire. Maybe it was my reference to semen in the first paragraph that did it...

(And someday, when I finally get him to break down and read my blog, he will shake his head while reading this and wonder how he ever got stuck teaching kids with someone like me. )

I Went to This Concert Once...

noreply@blogger.com (Briony) — Tue, 21 Apr 2009 04:31:00 +0000

...with my friend Vince - a big old-timey country music fan - and we saw Johnny Paycheck at the Crystal Palace. This must have been 1997 or 98 and, man, that was a good show (I was still occasionally smoking Marlboro Reds back then - ah, youth - and we stopped for a fresh pack, I believe it was my last one ever, after the show). And as I was reading an article in the NY Times tonight, I was reminded of that concert and one of Johnny's famous hits. However, to write my own lyrics, I think it would be more along the lines of "take this tenure and shove it".

Now, according to these people (who are definitely knowledgeable, well-respected professionals in their field) teaching is a viable career alternative for people who are looking for a new professional start in life. Well, p'shaw!, I say. As soon as the word 'tenure' appeared, I was pissed, and here's why:

I don't understand how anyone associated with the teaching profession can dangle the "tenure" carrot in front of prospective teachers in an article and ignore the GIGANTIC sticks that are wielded by state and federal governments. There are the licensing fee schemes that would put mafia racketeers to shame, the constant vilification of you and your colleagues for all manner of failings that are outside your authority and control, and then the always sickening reality that most of your students do not have access to affordable medical, dental, and mental health services to combat the myriad effects of the garbage the USDA calls a school lunch.

Holy canoli, there are so damn many links I could possibly link to that my brain is bleeding out my eyeballs from considering all of the many aspects of graft, corruption, and nincompoopery associated with the business of recruiting, training, licensing, and retaining teachers that ARE NOT mentioned in this article.

Wait, let me calm down a minute...okay, I've lit my prayer candle with the picture of Jaime Escalante on it, have some soothing music by Coolio playing, and I have my bourbon on the rocks resting on a copy of Freedom Writers. Whew! For a minute there, the realities of teaching in the modern public school system were just too much for me. Now, where was I? Oh yeah, I was going to say that there is a reason that most people don't stay in the teaching profession for more than five years but, unfortunately, my Xanax and Ambien just kicked in and I can't remember why. Oh well, I'm sure everything will be fine because, you know, I've always got tenure to look forward to.

I Can't Wait to Be Seventy...

noreply@blogger.com (Briony) — Sat, 11 Apr 2009 04:28:00 +0000

On today's edition of Therapeutic Anger we have Mary, a septuagenarian from Tampa, Florida, who demonstrates the appropriate expression of anger in a discussion with the smarmy neocon douchebags who have delighted and profited from running our country into the ground. Note the even tone of voice, the use of analogy, and the quiet outrage that simply skewers both the host and guest on a kebab of contempt.

Bodie says that Mary is the C-SPAN equivalent (he wouldn't say equivalent - because he just told me he wouldn't - but I would, so I'm paraphrasing) of Jon Stewart on "Crossfire".

Meanwhile, I sat on the sofa, not at the table, during the last staff meeting. Trust me when I say that my anger was therapeutically expressed by my choice of seating and did not go unnoticed by at least one of my coworkers.

Best Laid Plans

noreply@blogger.com (Briony) — Mon, 30 Mar 2009 13:09:00 +0000

So, my plan was to rekindle the romance in our marriage because even after 2 2/3 years we are still trying to find a balance between 1) sweet lovin', 2) my need for sleep, and 3) the absence of a certain child who shall remain nameless.

And then the harsh realities of spontaneous sex caught up with me...

Me: (in a practical tone) So, honey, if we're going to do this let's go to the bedroom. The floor kills my back.

Bodie: (breathing heavily) We all have to make sacrifices.

Me: (practical again) I thought my hideous hair and schlubby pajamas were sacrifice enough.

Bodie: (exasperated) Those are my sacrifices. What are yours?

Not Taking It Anymore...

noreply@blogger.com (Briony) — Tue, 10 Feb 2009 05:10:00 +0000

...because I really am mad as hell. I've decided to begin posting some of the comments I leave on other people's blogs, websites, listservs, etc. because I'm starting to come up with some real comic gold in my rants. At least, I think it would probably be funny if our society weren't at such a critical point right now. Or maybe that's the paranoia from the weed talking...ha! Just kidding. It's really from the ibuprofen...

Today's Therapeutic Anger Triple Feature:

From a listserv
"And I trust a CSU suit to competently perform his/her job about as much as I trust, oh, THE ENTIRE FUCKING LEGISLATURE OF THE STATE OF CALIFORNIA THAT CAN'T BE BOTHERED TO PASS A FUCKING BUDGET AND CONTINUALLY BURDEN PUBLIC EDUCATION WITH THEIR GENERAL DOUCHEBAGGERY.

Call your representative and tell him/her that he/she is a douchebag. Get everything in writing. In all caps. Do not assume that ... anyone who should possibly have been paid a royalty or licensing fee will be cool with their work being ripped off."

I got mad props for my use of the term 'douchebaggery' on that one. And don't assume that John Q. Public will be cool with having their special services districts torn a new financial asshole in the current economic crisis.

From an online petition to forgive student loan debt that I couldn't quite sign because it meant registering for stuff and I hate doing that (that's the paranoia talking again)
"I am a public school teacher. Like most teachers, I acquired student loan debt in order to receive the education and training that would give me the tools to become a competent professional in the classroom. I go to work every day to educate the children that our federal government is SCREWING by eliminating major education spending provisions from the current stimulus bill. Mr. President, I am not an eternal optimist. I expect that when reason and compassion are blatantly thrown under a bus to pander to ideological nincompoopery on the part of elected officials that the public reserves the right to use shame and derision to meet its needs. Please tell the Legislative lunkheads you work with that their constituents are speaking - it is time to listen."

Honestly, I'm not even sure I am making a coherent point in this one. I was just really pissed off and needed to yell at someone. Kind of like the lady at the beginning of this clip...

A Major Award

noreply@blogger.com (Briony) — Wed, 04 Feb 2009 05:27:00 +0000

Wow! I am an official Smart Bitch winner and the proud recipient of a ~~coffeemaker with travel mug~~ kinda funky psychedelic peppermint swirl hot chocolate pot (Bodie says I am being redundant by saying the hot chocolate pot is both "kinda funky" and "psychedelic". I reply that I am "swimming in my stream of consciousness". He leaves the room. When he comes back he says that my blog readers probably think the handsome Mr. G. pictured above is my husband. Well, he isn't. Click on over to Bodie's blog to see his picture.)...

Seeing my name in the list of winners made me think that I should update the Smarty Pants saga. You know, um, just in case I get any more traffic from, say, endlessly nagging Bodie to publicize my triumph via his Facebook page (I'm not linking to this because I don't know how and he isn't here right now for me to ask. And did I mention that I'm also standing in my kitchen, barefoot, pregnant, and without the benefit of a big, strong man to work the internets for me?)

So, an update:

We aren't in Las Vegas! Ha! Who would have thought that we would have moved from behind the Redwood Curtain to an entirely different state for all of, oh, 10 days before moving back to California for me to accept a job offer in the quaintly disgusting area that is the southern Central Valley in California. The air quality is bad, the politics are hell and gone from progressive, and I think this is some sort of cosmic penance due to the fact that I turned thirty this year.

[pause for a long telephone chat with Mr. L, who is having to plan for his first substitute teacher ever this Thursday and needs advice...and my old sub plans emailed to him...tonight]

On the bright side of things, we gathered all of our belongings into one residence within four months of the first move, which totally beats our last record of ten months, with only three moving trucks and one storage facility being rented this time around. Of course, the lovely Ms. D. did have a goodly pile of our shit in her garage for all of those four months, but I don't have to count any of that because we weren't technically paying for the space.

Bodie is now a full-time parent and part-time musician playing with the...you know, I was going to write the name of the organization, but he has suddenly gone all paranoid on me. Probably because we keep leaving irate messages on the answering machines and servers of various elected state officials. Hey, it's not my fault that the level of general douchebaggery on the part of the State of California has reached an all-time high. If they did their jobs I wouldn't have cause to point out what a mealy-mouthed sell-out weasel Glen Thomas is for being the Governor's two-bit political hack. Anyway, Bodie is fine, dislikes our current geographical region intensely, and will be insanely grateful when we move away from The Land That Progress Forgot.

Claire...Claire is the most rockin' kid ever. She serenades me at bedtime with "Anchors Aweigh". She calls her flying leaps onto her thinking chair 'engine' (ninja) jumps. She tells me she misses me when I'm at work and that she loves me very much. And she went pee-pee in the potty tonight all by herself...for the low, low price of half of a square of milk chocolate. This girl knows how to negotiate and her reasoning is nothing short of Jesuitical.

Flan-ing the Flames of Desire

noreply@blogger.com (Briony) — Sat, 31 Jan 2009 05:02:00 +0000

Smart Bitches was running a contest today for recipes written in purple prose. I just had to try...'cause who wouldn't want to win a copy of Natural Harvest: A Collection of Semen-Based Recipes? Oh, and a Cuisinart. Those are cool, too!

So, here for your romantic machinations is (in a slightly edited form now that I'm not trying to beat a deadline)...

FLAN-ing THE FLAMES OF DESIRE

Ingredients
6 eggs, smooth and round
12 oz. evaporated milk, poured in a silky, creamy stream from the can
14 oz. sweetened condensed milk, slowly drizzled from the tip of a spoon, reserving enough to dip your middle finger into before sensuously licking its rich sweetness from your fingertip
3 oz. cream cheese, warmed from the heat of the sexual tension
1/2 tsp. vanilla extract
Dash ground cinnamon
-AND-
1/2 c. sugar, ‘cause it makes it taste so good

Add the eggs, milks, cream cheese, vanilla and cinnamon to a blender. Pause between additions to trade suggestive looks and double entendres while slowly edging closer to each other. Blend for 1 minute. Let mixture rest. Ignite stove by bending over burner knob while slightly arching your back. Look over your shoulder as the burner ignites, catching him watching you, and sharing that look that says, “I know that you know that I know that you want me.” Carmelize sugar in a heavy saucepan or skillet, imagining your inhibitions melting away with those sweet sugar crystals, and immediately pour into an 8"x8" baking dish, spreading sugar to coat bottom of dish. Add blended mixture to baking dish. Place baking dish in a water bath and bake at 350. Remember that there was a serving platter that you needed to get down from a high cupboard right behind him. Climb onto a step stool to reach the serving platter, slightly hesitating while asking him if he will take it from your hands. Turn to face him just as he moves to stand in front of you, losing your balance just enough to fall into his waiting arms, yet not hard enough to drop the platter. Let your face come to rest within an inch of his, gazing at first his eyes, then his mouth, allowing flames of desire to ignite…

Remove the flan after 1 hour and chill overnight (or just leave it overnight in an oven that has been turned off - flames of desire are notoriously tricky to keep hot and a long delay can result in cold feet). Invert onto serving dish and serve either cold or at room temperature.

The Economic Crisis Has Finally Hit Me

noreply@blogger.com (Briony) — Sat, 13 Dec 2008 05:18:00 +0000

Well, my previous post started an interesting discussion just now between Bodie and I...it seems that I'm not a "real" blogger because I don't dirty up my posts with pictures. And I don't mean making posts with dirty pictures, but posting images to enhance my writing. I thought that I had made real progress when I was going out of my way to add links to my posts.

Apparently the only bloggers who don't use pictures are economists (I was going to link to Paul Krugman but Bodie tells me that he uses pictures). I can't decide if that's a compliment or an insult...

I know that I haven't exactly kept all that crap in the left-hand margin (oh christ, do they even call it a margin when it's on a computer screen?! damn, you, Mrs. Crow and your Keyboarding 101 at McFarland High School! your antiquated terminology has sentenced me to failure in the blogosphere! I bet 98% of the poor bastards who happen to stumble upon this blog have never even used a typewriter...ha! Bodie can't even tell me what it is called, so there!) current but, c'mon now, I've got a goddamn life to lead. And thirty-five more sugar cookies to bake for the Christmas Program next Thursday. And an almost brand-new sulcata tortoise to look after (that's Digger in the picture).

Okay, okay, a few updates here, a new doodad there, and finally, introducing for your reading um, pleasure?, a new and improved Smarty Pants. Now with more than one picture.

Gonna Set My Soul on Fire...

noreply@blogger.com (Briony) — Wed, 09 Jul 2008 23:56:00 +0000

...or something to that effect. We'll be leaving the safety of the Redwood Curtain at the end of this month to try our luck (rimshot!) in lovely Las Vegas, Nevada. Ah...Las Vegas...that oasis in the desert. Much like the proverbial grain of sand that was slowly coated with oyster goo until it became a luminescent pearl, such has Las Vegas become a brilliant city covered in acres of planned communities, homeowners' associations, and multi-million dollar mega resorts. Is this a coherent analogy? Just bear with me...

Unfortunately, I do not care for pearls. I do care for oysters - especially with a little sesame oil, ume, and wasabi - but Vegas is running low on their version of oyster goo (water, for those of you who don't follow battles for water rights and development) and I can't help but hum the theme song to "Weeds" every time I check out rental houses on GoogleMaps. If Humboldt County could have a polar opposite for environmental and consumerism values, then Las Vegas would be it.

Lame, but there it is. Makes me think that maybe there is a Top Ten List hiding in my brain somewhere of things I'll miss about living behind the curtain...

A Public Service Announcement

noreply@blogger.com (Briony) — Wed, 27 Feb 2008 14:39:00 +0000

Ahem...Dear Parents,

Wash your hands. Teach your kids to wash their hands. Donate hand-washing and facial tissue supplies to your kids' schools. Teach your kids how to cough into their sleeves and how to properly use and dispose of a tissue. Don't send your child to school when they are sick. If you do have to send your sick child, inform the teacher so that he/she can limit the other children's exposure as much as possible.

And in appreciation of your efforts we, the teachers, promise not to overtly Lysol your child's chair, pencil, crayons, scissors, rugspace, cubby, rest mat, backpack, or face in such a way as to cause irreparable damage to his/her reputation as the Nuclear Snot Monster of (insert name of school here).

Thank you.

How F*%#ed Am I?

noreply@blogger.com (Briony) — Wed, 27 Feb 2008 05:00:00 +0000

(cue accordion and tin whistle theme music)

Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to tonight's edition of "How Fucked Am I?". This wacky current events quiz has nothing to do with NPRs "Wait Wait...Don't Tell Me" and everything to do with the enormous shithole that is the State of California's education budget (and no, I'm not linking anything to "education budget" because, for chrissakes, how can you NOT have heard about this already?).

Here is your first question:

The current state deficit of ~~$14 billion~~ $16 billion will
a) maintain the funding for my half-time, benefits ineligible teaching position
b) increase the funding for my half-time, benefits ineligible teaching position
c) totally fuck any chance I have of keeping my job

Yes, the correct answer is 'C'. My job is fucked! Let's go on to the next question:

Not being able to keep my job will mean that
a) my family will NOT be able to afford rent or health insurance
b) my family WILL be able to qualify for food stamps
c) all of the above are correct and I am totally fucked

Yes, the correct answer is 'C'. I am totally fucked!

Congratulations on a great game. Join me next time as I look back at all of the money I wasted on getting a college degree and teaching credential that I may as well wipe my ass with for all the good they are doing me now.

Paper Products - OMGWTFBBQ

noreply@blogger.com (Briony) — Fri, 25 Jan 2008 14:59:00 +0000

I am finding that I have entered a new era in my life; an era filled with personal freedom and choice that leaves me almost beaming with pride every time I consider that pivotal moment when I said, "No! I am not spending $5 on goddamn paper towels and napkins! $5! On disposable paper products!"

I can feed our family a complete, nutritious meal for 5-freakin'-dollars, and yet the Bounty or Sparkle or Whoever company wants me to blow my hard-earned cash on their flimsy paper doodads. P'shaw! Or, as I find people writing on the internets, OMGWTFBBQ!

We have these great vintage cloth napkins now, compliments of my grandma, and have moved Claire's old spit-up cloths from the linen closet into the "cleaning rags/towels" drawer. And damned if they don't work amazingly well at cleaning my windows, linoleum, carpet spills, etc. Now if I could just get Citra-solv on an IV...

Leaving On A Jet Plane

noreply@blogger.com (Briony) — Thu, 20 Dec 2007 14:33:00 +0000

7:21 a.m.
Claire and I are flying to SoCal tonight, leaving Bodie to fend for himself until he joins us in a few days.

Me. Claire. In the confines of a commuter jet. For an hour. Twice. With a layover in LAX.

Do I start drinking now, or do I wait until it really is five o'clock somewhere?

1/13/08 UPDATE
I never want to be that parent. You know, that parent who lets their child throw a tantrum in a nice restaurant, or kick the back of an airplane seat, or feeds their child Flamin' Hot Cheetos and Hawaiian Punch for breakfast (and yes, I have encountered parents who really do that). So I was quite worried that I might completely cave and suspend all rules and procedures in the Claire's Manual for Orderly Living in order to avoid being that parent during our trip.

What the hell was I so worried about? Claire took the entire experience like a champ, from going through security in Arcata to waiting in the San Diego airport until midnight for our bags to arrive. She completely charmed every passenger within five rows, all of the flight attendants, and had her Papa and Uncle Aaron wrapped around her little finger as soon as we walked through the gate.

Dude, sometimes Mama just needs to chill.

The Week in Review

noreply@blogger.com (Briony) — Sun, 16 Dec 2007 05:32:00 +0000

I was on a bit of a roll this week and left my first ever comments on other people's blogs. Although, come to think of it, I don't know if dooce and Smart Bitches count as blogs or websites. Bodie says "they're blogs", so I'll take his word for it.

I am also full of blog envy because Bodie's blog is very polished and fabulous looking. This is why I reset the background image on his desktop to a full-color picture of David Hasselhoff in bikini underwear circa 1980-something (thank you Smart Bitches!). It is no less than he deserves for getting so much more accomplished than me.

As for work...it's an interesting time of year in public schools. Most years I am happy to relax my academic scheduling for a week while we ease into the winter vacation, but this year I find that I am too confined by other teacher's schedules to be able to give myself and my kids a break. Super lame. I think this stress is directly contributing to my rate of baking this week. Which leads me to...

The mixer. The lovely KitchenAid mixer that has had to sit in a box, cold and lonely, for the better part of two years because the first year I was puking too much to want to consider making delicious treats and the second year we didn't have enough space in our apartment kitchen for anything but the essentials. It has been worth the wait. This bad boy creams shortening and sugar like you wouldn't believe. I can't wait to get some yeast and crank that baby up to Speed 6 with the dough hook. So far I have confined myself to sugar cookies and banana bread. Wine cake is on the schedule for tomorrow and, if anyone were to actually read this blog and want any of these recipes, I am happy to share the recipes.

Mama's Night Out

noreply@blogger.com (Briony) — Sat, 08 Dec 2007 22:21:00 +0000

I had my first solo evening out recently and it was exhilarating! Sure, I was only gone for two hours, but I made those two hours count. Maybe I even made them count a little too much as I ended up leaving my car where it was and getting a ride home from a friend. Nevertheless, I was in fine smarty pants form that evening as I presented the "Gordon's Wife" award to a nice young man named Atticus.

The costume: Agent Jones' alternate universe

The award: Asparagus, because to keep a husband happy you either have to make him dinner or suck his *@$!, and with asparagus you can practice both. (Thanks to Katie's mom for that bit of sage advice)

The beer: Great White

Strange but true: It turns out that Atticus is acquainted with a girl who used to date my little brother three years ago. Given that she grew up in a small town and is now a nurse in the brain surgery department at a large southern California hospital this seems like a bizarre twist of the cosmos to bring together two people hovering at the edge of my circle of friends.

Bonus Score: The finest Mardi Gras beads that China can make...without having to show my tits.

So Who Is Really In Charge?

noreply@blogger.com (Briony) — Wed, 21 Nov 2007 23:28:00 +0000

Claire and I spend a lot of time together during the day. Maybe too much time. A recent conversation went something like this:

C: "Babies" (standing next to the computer and indicating that she wants to watch the dancing babies video on Noggin)
Me: "Diaper" (sitting on the floor next to her changing pad and fresh diaper indicating that it is time for her to cooperate with having her diaper changed)

C: Babies
Me: Diaper

C: (whispered) Babies
Me: (whispered) Diaper

C: Baaaabeeees (if I speak more slowly and point then mama will understand)
Me: Diiiiiiapeeeerrr (if I hold up the diaper then baby will understand)

C: Babies
Me: Diaper

C: (with that high-pitched toddler squeal) Babeeeeeees!
Me: (wincing from my bleeding eardrums) Diapeeeerrrrr!

Finally, after a few more rounds of tense negotiations, Claire consented to writhe around on the floor and protestingly grimace and grunt while I wrestled her into another diaper.

And sometimes I wonder why I'm so tired by the end of the day.

Time for a Change

noreply@blogger.com (Briony) — Tue, 20 Nov 2007 15:21:00 +0000

I changed the title of this blog last night, so today is the official launch of "Smarty Pants". You'll notice, though, that the address is actually "smartypantsmom" because just "smartypants" was already taken.

I told Bodie that I felt that the internet was stifling my originality by not letting me duplicate URLs. After all, I'm sure my "Smarty Pants" is much better than that other smarty pants. He said there is plenty of room for originality on the internet, you just have to be original. And not suck.

So now I'm focusing on the not sucking part. I feel the title change is a good start. You may remember the former Literary Luminary...what a pretentious piece of shit that title was. Please let me blame it on the postpartum depression and my desperate need to feel connected to the outside world. The new, improved Smarty Pants (with the litlum address still attached since I can't seem to figure out how to change that) promises to leave the soapbox in the closet most of the time...it can keep those frickin' fleas company.

The Bane of My Existence

noreply@blogger.com (Briony) — Sun, 18 Nov 2007 16:54:00 +0000

Actually, there are several banes of my existence right now, each of them equally annoying. I suppose if I had to rank them right now they would go something like this...

1. Fleas. Yes, fleas, in my apartment, on my daughter's stuffed chicken, in the laundry basket, and driving me quietly insane. I think the neighbors think that I'm a psychotic vacuuming freak because I vacuum so much now that the carpet is screaming for mercy. Oh, and did I mention that we don't own a pet? We've never owned a pet. In fact, I wanted to get a hamster and Bodie said no. We had a baby instead. Babies don't get fleas. I curse the rat bastards who left their marvelous flea infestation in our carpeting as I scour the baseboards and change out the vacuum bag yet again.

2. Location, location, location. My classroom is located immediately adjacent to the boys' restroom, the playground, and the exterior hall doors. The same exterior hall doors that are constantly being left open so that the musical sound of children's laughter can infiltrate my cozy corner and remind me that the 1st and 2nd graders are playing in the bathrooms...again...for the third time this week.

3. Moving. We left Eugene in February, meandered through McFarland, had an extended stay in San Diego, and finally returned to the safety of the Redwood Curtain in July. The "we" in this story is actually me, Bodie, Claire, and as much of our belongings as can be stuffed into a 2004 Corolla. All of the other miscellaneous items that make up a fully-stocked two bedroom apartment for two twenty-somethings and a baby? Don't worry, they're all safe and sound in a storage unit. In Eugene. And it's November.

These Boots Were Made for Walking...

noreply@blogger.com (Briony) — Sat, 21 Apr 2007 01:35:00 +0000

...and so is my 10-month old daughter! Not to worry, folks, I still have a lot to say about most of the stories you're seeing and reading about, I just don't have enough time in my day to give them my full, redundant and totally divided attention.

Keep checking in. I'll be back soon.

Blind Leading the Blind

noreply@blogger.com (Briony) — Sat, 17 Feb 2007 00:28:00 +0000

Can the blind really lead the blind? Only if they work at Newsweek.

Apparently I don't have “an ounce of brains” because I'm having a hard time figuring out how a journalist with no actual experience as an educator in a public school can presume to comment upon federal education legislation that has been one huge bureaucratic mess from the beginning.
The journalist: Jonathan Alter of Newsweek.

The legislation: NCLB.

My beef: It is irresponsible for a journalist with a major mainstream media outlet to further mislead the public regarding the implementation difficulties of NCLB by simplifying both the problems and potential solutions.

(At this point Bodie told me, “You know, it's kind of appropriate that a journalist with no experience as an educator comment upon education legislation passed by a bunch of politicians with no experience as educators.” Damn. I suppose Mr. Alter's article does work if you read it from the perspective of the blind leading the blind.)

Okay, I'll ignore Mr. Alter's mishmash of catchphrases (“bastion of mindless paleoliberalism”), buzzwords (“accountability”, “charter schools”), and trite targets of the national educational reform debate (“teacher tenure”). Instead I will focus the rest of my diatribe on the one glaring omission in Mr. Alter's article. Let's see if you can spot it in this scenario:

I am a highly qualified teacher. I teach in a school that receives adequate federal and state funding. My students have access to free/reduced lunch programs, small-group and one-on-one tutoring, art and music lessons, bus transportation to and from school, extracurricular sports, a thriving parent organization, current textbooks and updated curriculum, and more advantages than I care to spend time listing. However, not all of my students are meeting their Adequate Yearly Progress (AYP) goals and Joe Politician is screaming for my blood because, by golly, someone needs to be held accountable. I attend staff meetings, conferences, consultation sessions, and yet, some of my students continue to fail, but which students?

These are the students who do not arrive until 30 minutes into the start of the school day, leave ten minutes before the end, and take long vacations and weekends; the students who arrive at school having only had six hours of sleep the night before and no breakfast; the students who are being sexually, physically, or psychologically abused; the students who are homeless; the students who have learning disabilities and are emotionally disturbed and have no advocate besides their teachers; the list can go on, but hopefully you will see my point. It is not these students, nor their teachers, who are failing. It is their parents. I can teach any child, any day, at least some small bit of knowledge in any subject, but I can't guarantee that they will leave my classroom and return to a safe, loving, nurturing home filled with an adult who can help them reach their highest potential.

And who is holding these parents accountable? Where is their standardized test? What sanctions will they face if they do not make adequate yearly progress? Who is going to repair the damage that these ignorant and neglectful parents inflict on their children? Can failing parents have their asses fired in the same way that Joel Klein of New York City schools is firing "failing" administrators?

I tell you what, Mr. Alter, these aren't rhetorical questions that I am asking. I would much rather see you write an article about how NCLB needs to include mandatory outreach programs to educate parents and increase funding and manpower to investigate and prosecute cases of child neglect and abuse. Maybe then you won't seem like such a jackass of an armchair educator by making political hay out of the NCLB teacher witch-hunt.

Teachers + Blogging = x

noreply@blogger.com (Briony) — Tue, 30 Jan 2007 01:03:00 +0000

I am trendy and it has taken me by surprise. I usually avoid trends because I am too much of a financial and emotional tightwad to want to invest myself in something that will be sooo last week two months from now. However, according to this article in the Houston Chronicle (just one article among many these days), I am part of a growing trend of teachers who are turning to blogs as a way to share their opinions and frustrations with the public.

I have mixed feelings about this issue. My gut reaction is condemnation for teachers using blogs as a medium for spewing virtual-vitriol about their students and parents into the blogosphere. On the other hand, I have been in professional meetings that have led me to wonder if the concept of eugenics shouldn't be revisited...for students, parents, teachers, administrators, and, especially, politicians who write education legislation.

Teaching is a stressful job. At the beginning of last school year the "Your Health" flyer that was posted in our staff workroom listed the top 5 medications being prescribed to members of school employees' unions. I had to laugh when I noticed that the top three meds were 1) anti-depressants 2) sleep aids 3) cholesterol reducers. Could being a teacher really have that much of an impact on my personal health? Absolutely. I admit to bragging about how much I enjoy the challenges of my job, how I love being a part of my kids' lives, etc., but I can't count the number of nights when I have lain awake and worried about my students or my career prospects. I don't even like to think about how many times I have skipped breakfast and lunch to prep one more project or put the finishing touches on a lesson plan. And I am relatively new to the profession - imagine the poor bastards (like my dad) who have been in the trenches for 20+ years.

Of course, with teacher blogging comes a host of new complications for everyone involved in the public school experience. Vindictive students are using blogs to libel, sometimes with criminal intent, their teachers and administrators. Vindictive teachers are using blogs to reveal student information that should be treated with more discretion, if not downright confidentiality. Unfortunately, some very bad apples are making it tough for the rest of our bunch...and that is lame. Here's my advice on the issue:

Teachers: Protect your personal and professional reputation by periodically searching forums (like that scourge of the internets, MySpace) for libelous information. If you find something, document it in hardcopy format and immediately inform your administration and register a complaint with local law enforcement. Trust is the most fundamental component of the teacher/student relationship. Unfounded and untruthful information that casts aspersions upon your personal and professional reputation undermines that trust and can affect your career for years to come.

Parents: Monitor your child's use of the internet. It isn't hard, it won't cost you a dime, and it will save you a huge headache down the road by keeping your child from pulling a prank that might land you in civil or criminal court.

Administrators: Grow a backbone, if you don't already have one, and give your teachers the full weight of your disciplinary support. I know that "bong hits 4 Jesus" doesn't fall within your jurisdiction, but libelous material that affects your teachers' abilities to perform their duties is definitely within your sphere of influence.

For Everyone: Approach your contribution to the blogosphere with common sense and discretion.

February

noreply@blogger.com (Briony) — Sun, 28 Jan 2007 17:57:00 +0000

Forget about March Madness, it's the February Frenzy that makes this a busy month for elementary schools. Here’s what you can expect at most public schools:

-Groundhog Day (Feb. 2) celebrates the prophetic abilities of a large rodent named Phil.

-Valentine’s Day (Feb. 14) means you can look forward to your child coming home from school in a sugar-induced frenzy caused by eating those horrid candy hearts at her classroom party.

-Presidents’ Day (Feb. 19) consolidates the observance of Washington and Lincoln’s birthdays although, depending on your state, school district, and child’s teacher, the historical legacies of other president’s may also be recognized. Bully!

-February also hosts Black History Month and National Children’s Dental Health Month. Many teachers don’t bother with these but they should. These general observances can be great complements to V-Day and P-Day with a little creativity.

Check out the Recommended Reading for a sample of books that are related to all of these topics. I’ve linked the titles to their pages on Amazon.com and most of the titles should be available at your school and public libraries.

Introducing the Literary Luminary

noreply@blogger.com (Briony) — Sat, 27 Jan 2007 07:02:00 +0000

Welcome to The Literary Luminary. My husband suggested I start a blog because I always have a lot to say about education, literacy, government boondoggles related to the aforementioned items, and he's sick of hearing about it all the time fer cryin' out loud. So...

My name is Briony. My personal and professional backgrounds are very educational in nature - more on that later. I have a beautiful daughter, who has just turned 7 months old, and a wonderful husband who said to me as I was writing this, "Don't you want to put some commas in there?" And here I thought I would be my own worst critic.

I truly enjoy helping kids, parents, other teachers, and everyone else understand the various issues that surround the public school experience in this country. From the importance of eating breakfast to having successful parent conferences, tune in for my occasionally mis-punctuated perspective on all things educational.