The Write Woman Calls Out “A Butt-Face” (129 Days Left)

"Who you calling Butt-Face?"

"I can't wait to break outta this pen!"

For all those people who complain that life is boring, screw you! I’ll trade you for a day, just so I can stop long enough to enjoy a cup of coffee without running out the door and spilling it down my shirt in the process. (And that’s without having a nine-to-five taking a huge chunk of my day.)

The instructor I have at school right now isn’t demanding. Oh no! He’s freaking impossible! Especially if you’re someone who only got S’s (satisfactory) in school for self control. Okay, I did get H’s (honorable), but only by the teachers who really loved me. I have this issue where if something is on my mind, I blurt it out. This may explain why I’m single. But people always know where they stand.

"We're going to be your boss some day, then YOU can ask us for money!"

This works especially well when I’m teaching. Kids never know what to expect when they walk through the door and gasp, “A substitute!” Sometimes in joy and other times in dismay. The funny thing is the ones who are upset are generally the better behaved ones because they respect their instructors and are visibly upset their instructor is not going to see them today. But generally speaking, it works out well about 98% of the time. The kids get the same information, but from an instructor with a diverse viewpoint, which always shakes the lesson up a bit.

I got to teach at one of my favorite schools, a junior high. The kids are so excited to learn at this school. The teachers are spectacular and the walls thick with respect. Indeed a pleasant place to be. Each time I go, I ask who’s had me before and a few kids raise their hands. They remember particular things about me, usually that I’m a writer and sometimes specifics like Smashwords and my “Snow White” story. (Still trying to figure out what to write now.) And sometimes they’ll remember an anecdote I share from my days as a student. I find this evens the playing ground along with my one rule (in addition to the regular teacher’s) – mutual respect. More than them respecting the teacher and vice versa; respecting the others in the class so they can learn, if they choose to. They’re allowed to speak to each other as long as it doesn’t interfere with others and there’s not a test going on. This, of course, includes when someone has something to say aloud whether myself or a student. Otherwise they lose their headsets and speaking abilities. Mostly, they know me pretty well.

“A man deserves a second chance, but keep an eye on him.” ~ The Duke

 

Friday, I got a call for a position and meant to pass it by. I had a huge assignment due from Full Sail University instructor General Hospital. (I call him this because he acts like a general who will hospitalize you if you don’t do what he says! In all seriousness, he was on the soap opera years ago.) If you read the second paragraph, you get it. But I had a huge assignment due Friday night, so I wasn’t about to work during the day. Fail!

A disconnect message from Google came up on my phone screen while I listened to the recording. When I hit the button to dismiss the message, it refused to leave. I hit it multiple times, accepting the position to teach after the stupid message disappeared. Damn it! If I cancelled after accepting, it leaves an ugly red mark that I bailed within 24 hours of accepting a job. To top it off, I had twenty minutes to get there, not to mention getting ready. Besides, I figured it was kismet of some sort that I was tricked into this position. I had a lesson to learn today.

Show your children you love them

Turns out, I was correct. At least I feel the draw was correct, even though I worked until the lights were going off in the library to turn my huge assignment into The General. The kids were incredible, so don’t get me wrong. But a group of students were leaving early for a wake. A seventhgrade girl hanged herself the week before. The third in the district during one month. Seventh grade! Her life hadn’t even started. She’d never been jilted, had a baby, graduated, driven a car… all the things a parent dreads or looks forward to for his or her child. All day long I found myself staring at the background of my cell phone, every chance I got, at my seventh grader and his third grade sister. I wondered what I would do if for some reason, especially one I’d blame myself for, he wasn’t there when I awakened the following morning. What in the hell would I do? I feel horrible for the parents who must endure, but would not exchange places with them for the life of me. Tell your kids every single day how much you love them—and hope they really hear you. More importantly, as they say in film school, “Show, don’t tell!”

The other day I had an elementary class of 5^th graders who were a hoot and a half. Toward the middle of the day they had this peculiar rotation where the kids stayed in their seats while the

teachers rotated through the rooms, giving the same lesson to each class. While it seems moving three people around, rather than nearly a hundred, I was less than enchanted. Two of us that day were subs. What’s the easiest lesson to give a sub who will be rotating between classes? Videos!

Two of us were scheduled to show videos, and the third opted to. In a nutshell, it was expected that fifth graders would sit in their seats, without moving, for a bit more than 2 ½ hours staring at the wall. As if that isn’t enough, we expected them to pay attention without falling asleep. You’d be hard pressed to have me do that! (Which again, probably explains my disdain of the 9 – 5 jobs.)

"I know so much my head pulsates!"

My video was Bill Nye the Science Guy. The kids love him—for forty minutes. But the other substitute had a different film by the same guy. Geez! As fascinated as I am by science, and I am, I can’t watch the doofus have the cameraman move in and out, up and down, and back and forth while he repeats the same words over and over for three periods. Hitler would adopt this technique! By the time I was back to my original class, I sent them outside to play basketball for twenty minutes. They needed to relax! I’m not about to punish myself by forcing them to finish up their torture before lunch, and have mercy on the lunch ladies. It’s bad enough they must stand over hot mush for hours on end with those hair net thingys.

On our way to lunch, we had to stop and let another class go. When it was time to proceed, there was a huge break in the line where the students were facing the wrong way and chatting. “About face!” I touted repeatedly, tapping each kid on the shoulder as I barked. The last one said, “What did you call me?” I was struck with confusion until he followed up with, “Did you call me a butt face?” I laughed so hard I’m surprised I didn’t force blood out my pores. 

What's one of your fav shows? Share it with someone!

Speaking of laughing hard—how long has it been since you’ve seen that one movie that caused you laugh your ass off in high school? Find it! Let you kids watch it, and you’ll laugh all over again. Not at the movie, but at your kids’ reactions to the show. For our family time we watched Bill & Ted’s Excellent Adventure. Granted the special effects were par with today’s home movie standards, but the humor is still viable. And who could ever forget George Carlin? He’ll always be one of my favorites. There’s no other movie insinuating that Genghis Khan loved Twinkies. Who thinks of that crap? Someone funny—definitely not me. I think that’s why I love comedy so much. I’m an investor in Left Field.

Writing movie reviews for Geek Smash as well as my own site, is expensive. Not to do the writing, as much as view the materials. Frankly, I haven’t got an extra $40+ a month to invest. Although Tinseltown from Cinemark had stated I would have free access, it hasn’t been granted. Needless to say, I haven’t been able to review as many movies as I’d like, and give them free publicity, so I’ll pay somewhere else.

However, it appears as if I found my dream job, at least until I graduate or sell Vermill!on Beach. I will write formal papers for others via the net. It pays $8 - $20/per page. Research? I’m there! In participating, I’ll be able to live anywhere I want and continue working until I can produce viable work. Isn’t that something? The trick is if ringing the bell at the front door doesn’t work, beat the hell out of the back door. If that doesn’t work, find a window. After all, they say that when one door closes a window opens. There’s always a way waiting to be discovered.

The Write Woman Breaks the Law (137 Days Left)

I've never been a good actress.

Friday, a full day, was much more than it pretended to be when I awakened broke, but in a good mood due to my kids, my son’s grandma, and the request for an employment interview, which I turned down. Still, I figured I’d dress in case I found someone to deliver my resume to. A single mom does everything!

At 4:00 I started my writing, took a shower at 6:00, got my daughter up and thanks to my new approach it was worry-free. I’ve divided her morning up in 15 minute increments, posting signs in each place to let her know when her time is up for that segment.

Waking up at 7:00, Nikki’s sign says she needs to eat at 7:15. By the table, a sign says she must dress at 7:30. In her bedroom is a sign stating she must brush her teeth at 7:45, and in the restroom is a sign stating she must do her hair at 8:00. She can do any of these things earlier, if she chooses, but no later. If she goes to school unfinished, she’s had the opportunity. Unlike the other mornings, when we fight at 8:30 to get her out with tangled hair, she was finished by 8:00. Hope it keeps working!

My day was off to a roaring start. I dressed nicely in casual/professional, reverse French braided my hair, and even without makeup (‘cause I hate it) I looked pretty great.

I took Cameron to see his doctor and worked in the lobby on my laptop. Afterward we called Grandma, but there was no answer. I decided to go to the downtown library and make a couple of copies of my resume, although they wouldn’t look really good, it was better than nothing. I had a few coins in my wallet, and that’s all.

At the library, the parking garage below was free for the first half-hour. Thank you Diamond Parking (tongue in cheek) for giving me enough time to get in, make a couple of copies and get the Hades out. We’d recall Grandma and see if she still wanted to go to her library today.

They care -- eventually

Once inside, I received the little white card in the darkened basement. I couldn’t see the print, so I examined my dashboard to see 11:08 a.m. “Okay,” I told Cameron as we pulled through the raised barricade, “we’ve got to get in and back out by 11:30, just to be safe. Think we can do it?” He nodded his head, we parked, hit the elevators, went through the front door, past the stores and into the library. I handed him the flashdrive and opened my computer to make sure the resume looked correct, for about the twelfth time.

A few minutes later, he returned to tell me it was .10 a copy. “No problem,” I said, reaching down to my purse. “It’s almost twenty after.” I reminded him, checking out the time on my computer screen. I opened the change purse and he plunged his hand inside, grabbing a few coins before darting off. Moments later, he returned with one horribly faded copy. “This is what I got, so I stopped at one,” he said. I figured it would do for today and thanked him. We packed up, headed to the garage, jumped into the car and headed to the barricade to get out. Pushing the ticket in, the display told me I needed to pay $1.50 and they only took bank cards, not cash.

If you recall by the first paragraph, no monies in the bank. I threw the car in reverse, drove back and parked, ran back up to the library, waited patiently in line, and spoke to Michele at the front desk. I explained that I deliberately made sure we were on time and that I live in Ogden, not Salt Lake where we are now, and I would need to pick my daughter up from school. I won’t have money until Wednesday. She looked up Diamond Parking on the net and gave me the number.

Salt Lake City Library

 I called and got an answering machine. Figuring I’d probably get a call back the next day, if I was lucky, I listened to the message to derive another phone number. When I called that one to speak to Sally in Washington, she told me there was nothing she could do. I went back to Michele, nearly 7 months pregnant, and told her my frustration. She called another girl over and told her she didn’t know what to do, but there was a banking machine in the lobby that only charged $1.50. I reinstated I have no money in my banking account and if I did, I doubt it would deliver $3.00.

Finally, I pulled the ticket out and it gave my clocking in time at 10:59, 9 minutes short of the actual time. More people would catch on if it wasn’t so dark. The other girl said we should call security. After a spell, a security guy came out and told me they have problems with Diamond Parking all the time. This is just another day, but he’d go down with us and see what we could do. It’s been nearly an hour. He took us to the teller and told me I could use it to get money. Unfortunately, to get money you must have money. Now it will cost $4.50 to get out. By Wednesday, when I get money, who knows what the cost will be? What will happen to Nikki? This is ridiculous. Think. Think! Think!!!!

I asked the guard if he would mind if I followed someone else through. He said he would not mind at all. We stopped the next person and asked. She said she was in a hurry, but if I was fast, she would let us. But then another guy pulled behind her. “I can’t wait,” she said and took off.

I asked the guard if he would stop the next person. “I can’t do that,” he said, “It would be illegal.” I have a hard time knowing the differences between him asking or watching me do it, but whatever. I asked the next guy and he said, “Sure!” I ran to get my car and Cameron followed. I got in and squealed around the corners just a turn away. The last car pulled through, the security guard walked away, and I sat there looking at the barricade.

The reason this is such a big deal for me is because I’m sickeningly honest. Like, to a fault. But now it was past 12:45 and it was obvious no one was going to help. I don’t get it! If I were standing on the street corner with a cardboard sign begging for money, I’d have it falling from my pockets. Do they really think I’d still be there for over an hour for $1.50 if I had it? So I got out and lifted the barricade. “Come on!” I motioned for Cameron to come and take it. When he did, I sped through, receiving dirty looks from the people going in. Diamond Parking called back about three hours later. Needless to say, we will not be returning to that library.

We took Grandma to the library where she could checkout a mystery. She left with a book about St. Bernards and a “mystery” by Stephen King, even though I reminded her he is a horror novelist. She shrugged and told me how much she loves reading Stephen King mysteries. Okay, Grandma, sleep tight!

"Stephen King? I love mysteries!"

I took Cameron to his father’s, when he told me he forgot his soccer outfit for the game Saturday, but had to shrug and tell him his dad would need to bring him early to change. I raced to get Nikki, hopped out of the car and ran to her school, just as she came out the doors.

This is a movie. Just throw a few more coincidences out there, really riling it up and you’ll have a different day of my life. Despite having seven reviews to give, of a minimum three paragraphs each, between the time of 10 a.m. and 7 p.m., including a soccer game to attend, I managed.

Today has been noted as an official “Pajama Day” where I will work on Vermill!on Beach and put my charity work, etc. on hold, as I am not equipped to perform it well enough to be worth the effort. At the library yesterday, I loaded up on Disney movies to keep Nikki entertained beside me while I work. Whoops! Guess I’d better back to the script.

All in all, I think I’m past the point in my life where I should just take what I can get for a career. I haven’t the time for that. Now I need a position that will propel me into the future. A career I want. I am going to write professionally.

The Write Woman Afraid for Wrong Reasons? (150 Days to Go)

Right, Wrong, or Whatever?

“If loving you is wrong, I don’t want to be right.” Remember that song? If you’re thirty or older, there’s no excuse for never having heard it. Anyway, I’m not saying I’ve totally sucked into involvement with someone. I’m not. But I can’t figure out why I’m even contemplating the issue. It isn’t, after all, as if I have time to eat and sleep properly. How in the world could I add in another task? Perhaps it’s the issue of me considering the whole thing a task, although there is work involved in a relationship and no one has asked me out.

Life is ONLY confusing if you think about it. Stop Thinking!

So at the library yesterday, I promised Nikki that I would play Wizard101 with her for an hour before I refocused on my homework. We played, I worked on helping her to focus more, and then we packed up with the intention of coming home. No sooner did we step out of the library doors than a male voice said, “Excuse me.” He couldn’t have been talking to me because 1) he didn’t whistle as if calling a dog, and 2) he didn’t start off with “Hey!” Of course I kept walking, talking and laughing with Nik as we usually do when we leave. But he couldn't let it go and repeated “excuse me” a bit louder. I turned to see a man I’d recognized as someone who is in the library all the time with headphones working at his laptop. I’m guessing a few years younger and a couple inches taller than me. He’s dark, but I’m unsure of his racial history, but then again, in a few years we’ll all be mulligan stew. My eight-year-old says she suspects he’s a descendant of India. He told me he sees me working hard every day and guesses I must be a student. Then he told me he took a few months off of work to take a series of tests necessary for internal medicine. His name is Michael Clark and he’ll complete his series April 17^th. I congratulated him and acknowledged that I am a student. He didn’t ask me if I was a nurse, thank goodness! No offense to any nurses, but a group of them gather at the library and hearing some of the things they are unsure of has scared me away from going ever again. Okay, that and the bill for over $1,900 of them checking my heart scare before telling me a dead arm is a sign of my vertebrae’s misalignment. I wish they would have told me that in the first place. Anyway, when I congratulated Michael and wished him well on his journey, he quickly threw in he’d still be coming to the library after and his test was a couple of weeks away. I don’t know why I’m freaking, it isn’t as if he asked me out or anything. Here’s to hoping he doesn’t, right?

 Took the kids to see Home, starring Jim Parsons last week. It was fairly good. I will review it and have reopened my Ten Star Review Listing for my own reviews. I also watched Into the Woods, which was amazing, and conducted a review on it for GeekSmash. I’ve decided to borrow movies from the library and critique the hell out of them, combined with theatrical releases for my own website I’d started a couple years ago. I may as well.

Let me prune your flowers -- away!

Today when Nikki and I got home from shopping, I saw the beautiful Blue Bells I’d planted two years ago had blossomed, after I had written them off. Nikki gave me a hug and told me how beautiful they were, and they were. She helped me pack the groceries into the house by propping the door open and helping me put them away. When we were all done, there was a knock at the door. Peeking out, Nikki’s friend waited and waved through the screen door. She donned her Easter dress with matching gardening gloves and a bucket with sour cream containers filled with dirt. “Don’t worry,” she said, “I am gardening for your Easter gift from me today.” Her smile was huge as I ran past her to witness all of the blossoms, lying with their heads chopped off, all over the ground. Of course I was saddened. But she meant well, and it was free. How often do people approach me with tasks they’re willing to do for free? Instead of getting upset, I grabbed Nikki’s new Madagascar Penguins movie, put it into her hands and asked her to take Leila to her grandma’s and ask if they could watch it there. She hasn’t come back yet and I’ve written this full article.

Now I will go sit in my recliner and breath for ten minutes before coming back to read the series of The Good Wife, of which I must write an episode of for school. I’m on page 33 of Vermill!on Beach, and Cameron will be home in 2 ½ hours. I still have half an hour left of silence before Nikki comes home. I love my children dearly, but in order to have a true appreciation, I must force myself to realize what life without them would be like. I’ll go do that now.