"Have a great trip, Lesly & Helen!"

Spring is springing!  My Mudda (aka:  mother) & I kicked the season off in gorgeous Playa del Carmen, Mexico.  The Yucatan Peninsula is one of the few areas of the country consistently deemed still safe by the US State Department and we did not allow any nay sayers to dampen our excitement for this escape.  <insert elevated eyebrow, ahem - Texas Department of Public Safety>  

Highlights of our time:

• Quiet surroundings, lush vegetation, friendly folks, and every detail attended to by a diligent resort staff.
• Having absolutely zero concern about where to find meals, no planning of the time, and no expectations that we would "do something," this day or the next.
• Moonlight massages on the beach in a Mayan Palapa. Thank you, Mudda, what a treat!
• Seeing my Mom enjoy a relaxing time away from the real world.
• Many chuckles and Peppermint Patty Laughs, including this one, thanks to a waiter who apparently fell victim to my evident under-enunciation of my name - 

If you need a solid resort recommendation, email me and I'm more than happy to give you details of my experiences.  

Here is a sampling of scenery, below, along with an album found here:  https://picasaweb.google.com/100660534081378363970/Playa?authkey=Gv1sRgCLmSuKjnqeCrIw&feat=email

 

 

 

How many coils come with that brake?

Out of fairness, I should establish the fact that I'm NOT posting the photo below as a means of poking fun at an honest mistake that has been made by a superior of mine, at my place of employment; along with many other intelligent professionals.  But, it does remind us all to proofread and reread.  (Are those real words?)  Thank you, MCJ, for sharing this with me!

NCIS

(No Crime In School)

In 9.75 years of blissful freedom from student thievery in my classroom - a substantial fact to note, just ask any of your educator friends - I recently found myself at a loss to find my beloved* clickable Sharpie.  I had possession of it one class period, then, poof.  Gone.  I frantically searched my desk & immediate area, but reality set in quickly:  I'd been pen-jacked.  I also keep such Spartan work spaces that there was never really a question of having misplaced it entirely from sight.

In response I did what any affronted victim would do:  I posted a "Wanted" sign in my classroom, with the requisite pitiful sounding verbiage.  There was no reward offered.  This was a sheer test of adolescent integrity.

I did not receive my beloved back (yet), but what did take place was almost worth the mild thievery frustration.  One of my more clever honors students approached me, inquiring if she could show me something on her cell phone.  Normally I would shy away from this offer, but this student is not the type I'd expect to show a teacher a video of mean girls fighting in the bathroom or a photo of herself wearing the same type of clothes that my Mother warned me not to wear when I was this girl's age.  The student leans in with her phone, asking, "Did the pen look like this?"  Imagine this photo on a cell phone screen:

 (not the actual photo taken by my student surveiller)

"And like this?"  <imagine a second photo of the same pen on the screen, taken from a different angle>

Sure enough, the photo subject appeared remarkably like my beloved.  "My precious..."  (Lord of the Rings reference) My honors student knew which class period the pen went missing in and informed me who she believed to be the illegitimate, new owner of my beloved.  She had taken it upon herself to collect what she believed to be photo evidence.

Flash forward to the suspect student's period and coincidence or not, the accused thief was using an exact match of my beloved.  Sigh.  In the end, I did not strong arm the suspected thief.  The suspect only used the pen once, and, the sting of the theft was made sweeter by the knowledge that there's at least one other student taking action to right a wrong in the big, bad world of pen thievery.

*Sharpies are always beloved in my world, and I purchased this particular one.

My Complicated Relationship With Wal-Mart

Disclaimer:

If the majority of Wal-Mart store employees appeared like this (look down) whilst working, this blog would become irrelevant to yours truly.  Can a blog be irrelevant if never composed?  <ponder>

 

But because the majority of Wal-Mart store employees I encounter have this mood on their face (look down, again), the characteristics of Wal-Mart that bug me; REALLY bug me.

 

Let us commence with features I wholly appreciate about good 'ol Mr. Walton's brain child.  

 

• Wal-Mart is the only big box store in my perfect triangle of existence* that enables me to buy Super Glue, extra virgin olive oil, socks, ingredients for all of my DIY adventures (more on that later), a new spatula, sit for a pedicure, stop for a McMocha, and fill an eyeglass prescription - under one, mass-manufactured roof.
• Although I have found Wal-Mart is not always the least expensive (or by more than a few cents), it is a resource that provides people on an uber strict budget a place to buy their necessities; especially when every penny literally counts.  And they often do.
• The organization is normally always hiring, which is key in our economic times.  I worked for Wal-Mart when I was in college and it enabled me to pay  mostly pay my bills.  It's also the source of my sister's income for her young family.

But.

• Let's face it, the produce often blows like a prairie wind in west Texas, and the shelves are frequently devoid of basic items - especially on certain days of the week.
• I think the rule of "no more than three customers in line or we'll open a new register!" has collected a LOT of dust in the original operational manuals.
• Some of the cashiers frighten me.  They often appear unhappy - which I can relate to - see prior comment about a college job of mine.  The same relates to a random floor employee that can sometimes be spotted (with heavy searching) for customer assistance.  
• I realize that no corporation of any size, especially a monster like Wal-Mart, can operate under perfect and 100% moral codes, but "come on, man!"  It seems not that many months elapse without some report of a lawsuit, gender/age/race discrimination - and "The University of Wal-Mart" for managers sounds a wee bit cultish to me.  I've also watched some documentaries about the corporation and they did nothing to make me feel better about giving them my business.

I support them with reservations, but not every week, and I'll cop to sometimes hiding the bags, from Charley, as evidence that I've visited the monster.

*Perfect Triangle of Existence:  I love to travel outside of my town, but I don't enjoy driving all over Creation to meet my career, social, exercise, and household needs.  A perfect triangle of existence allows me to attend to any of those outlets within a five mile radius, if that.  

I'm Turning Gangstanese, I'm Turning Gangstanese

"Miss, are you turning gangster on us?"

In my head:  Huh.  Did I apply too much make-up this morning?  Is my hair in disarray?  I mean, what IS "turning gangster?"  Is my skirt slung too low?  Does my chain hang low, does it bobble to the floor?

"Because you noted 'Sharpen yo pencil before we begin today's activity' on the projection."

This comment originated from the same child who randomly blurts out, "Miss, would you like to buy a donkey?" Which, naturally, endears her to me even more.

Most Creative Excuse Award

One has to applaud the clever nature of THIS one (below).  I was tempted, only momentarily, to forgo the penalty for late work based solely on this delightful email from a student's older sibling.  I cleaned up the grammar a bit for Grammar Goddesses, and excluded the last name for privacy's sake:

Ms.Robinson,

This is Guadalupe (Jasmine's Sister).
I am terribly sorry to inform you that I accidently stepped on Jasmine's
flash drive. I know she finished it and showed me the presentation.

She worked on it on my computer at my apartment and saved an unformated copy (where she last stopped).
I will transfer the copy to a new flash drive for her, if possible please allow her to present it tomorrow.
Again I apoligize for any inconvenience.  Please call me if you have any questions.

                                                                                - (The not so light) Guadalupe 

Wine Cork(board)

BP = Before Pinterest

AP = After Pinterest

Now that we have that out of the way, I'd like to thank MCJ for introducing me to this love/loathe passion that has become my desire to create, cook, bake, organize, repurpose, and redesign virtually anything - biotic* or abiotic, that I can place my digits on.  If you have not heard of Pinterest by now, you have either been living under a very large rock - most likely a sedimentary one if you live in Tejas, or you have courageously resisted the digital cork board movement.  All of you are highly intelligent so it's likely the latter.

Speaking of cork boards, this is one of my first completed home projects and I'm kinda taking a shine to it:

JR provided me the necessary corks, many some of which I'm proud to know I am responsible for the separation from their former bottle partners.  Chest thump.  I began the project with a newly purchased hot glue gun but was promptly detoured back to Wal-Mart (more on my love/loathe relationship there, later) when the appliance miserably failed, resulting in a heaping hill of hot, gooey goo that never made it to the barrel exit.  Trial 2 consisted of pulling out the good ol tube of Tacky Glue.  I'm sad to report that the be-all-end-all craft glue of my childhood was a tacky (non)hot mess.  The gunk simply wasn't tacky enough.  Trial 3, and my ultimate success, came about through the use of a clear cement product found in just about all multi-purpose stores with four walls.  24 hours later, voila'!  Don't lean in too closely though or you'll see my less than sophisticated application.  Hey, at least it's clear cement.

Cheers!

*which includes decorating the dogs.