Wednesday, September 22, 2010

I'm ringing all the warning bells...

What's better than a double nonfat latte, a fat piece of carrot cake, and Pandora Radio on the first day of autumn? That's right, hoes. Nothing at all.
I'm disgustingly happy right now. This time of year is perfect. I won't repeat myself in regard to my feelings on fall, but holy crap. It hasn't even fully begun, and my mood has already significantly improved. So, don't feel uncomfortable if I'm looking at you with a creepy smile. It's not you or your face. It's a cornucopia of joyful autumn thoughts. (You like that lameness? Blame my profession.)

You know what I hate? Listening to music and hearing a song from the past that makes you want to jump off of a bridge. That's dramatic. Perhaps eyeball gouging is more accurate. Or, not really. The point life has a soundtrack. Songs remind me of people, stages, events. Sometimes they remind me of things I don't want to remember. I try not to feel animosity towards anyone or anything for ruining a song for me, but it happens. Animosity, that is. Lucky for the general population my animosity isn't that dangerous or scary. But still, it exists. [Insert silent rage fist in the air gesture here.] I won't turn this post into an Alanis Morissette song. But darn you, song ruiners. Darn you.

You know what else I hate? Feeling awkward in front of my students. I say "crap" and "suck" a lot. They just roll off my tongue naturally when I'm telling a story, or explaining things in a kid-friendly, nontechnical way. I mean, it's a habit. They always look at each other with a smile and surprised eyes when I say things. I'm pretty sure these are bad words in 6th grade. Opinions on this? I usually just tell them to grow up. I've said "poopy" before, too. Poor children. Maybe I suck. Crap, I don't know.

I'm at a coffee shop pretending to be a college kid whilst I create PowerPoints for lesson plans. There's an open mic. People are brave, and I'll leave it there. I did get to hear a cover of The Decemberists and now Tracy Chapman. I specifically remember the first time I saw Tracy Chapman. It was a very controversial moment in my life. I studied my mom's CD case for the longest time trying to figure out the sex of the person in the white button-down shirt and braids. I don't know when I finally reached a conclusion, or if I ever did. Weird day to remember, but it's remembered. And I'll sing "Fast Car" every time it's on. And when I say sing, I mean quickly mumble lyrics I don't know at all. "laldkfjldkj got a fast car. dlfkjalkfj got a ticket to anywhere. aklkjdfkj make a decision. laksjfldkjf or live and die this way." That's what it's like. No need to thank me for the clarification. And did I really just blog about Tracy Chapman?

Ok, friends. Talk to you soon. Tosh in 9 days. ACL in 15. If I cussed much, I'd cuss. Like, real cuss words. I'm that excited. xoxo

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