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FOOTYING

September 3rd, 2009

ED was offered FREE tickets to the first University of Utah home game and we had to pass them up. “WHY?” you might scream ask. The answer was, sadly, that I had an online assignment due and ED had massive amounts of anatomy studying to do too. And no it wasn’t MY anatomy he was studying either.

So what does the nerd couple do instead?

FOOTYING!

FootyingIn case you can’t tell, I have my laptop on my lap and ED has his. The TV is showing the U of U (on low volume) kicking Utah State’s butt. The TV is, of course, directly in front of ED.

Football + Studying = FOOTYING

A way to watch the game and still pass Mass Comm 1500.

Blogfully yours,

Summer

PS – in case you are wondering, U of U won 35 to 17! GO UTES!

Back to School, ED is not Emotionally Disturbed, Nerdom

Community Colleges Are Not Cheap – They Are Invaluable!

September 1st, 2009

As many of you know, I am a part time student at the Salt Lake Community College. Fall semester started last week and they had more students enroll than they ever have. The parking lot is ridiculously full, the halls are filled with people on their cell phones, and I’ve never seen the line at the bookstore wrap around the room for two weeks straight.

I suppose the economy is to blame. Everyone has come to the same conclusion I did a year ago: Better get in gear to remain relevant in the market place.

Night school is honestly awesome in spite of the abnormally busy hall ways. Downtown night school is even awesomer! If you enjoy people watching and are bored,  I highly encourage enrolling just to experience the diversity of it all.

Especially the teachers!

I have a teacher this semester that I am absolutely fascinated with. Honestly I can’t take my eyes off of him from the moment he walks in the room. Everything from his tight shirt with the buttons about to pop over his round belly to the white film that looks to be sunscreen not rubbed in all the way to the way he blinks very hard and can ramble off quotes from famous dead people without ever taking a breath.

All of it!

I am mesmerized by him. I can’t say that I pay attention 100 percent of the time to what he is teaching. I am too busy romanticizing the little tid bits of personal information he keeps dropping about himself and trying to figure him out.

No wedding ring. Must be single. Said he is disabled and has been hit by cars. That explains his walk. Has battled cancer. Perhaps skin cancer? That would explain the sunscreen. Father was an accomplished writer who was friends with Einstein? Wait, did I hear him right? Mother would beat him if he had nightmares. Now we are getting super personal! President Lincoln might have been gay? What are we studying again? How can he write that many big words on the board while talking and never looking at notes? I really hope he doesn’t pop a button on his shirt, that could be awkward, for all of us. Seriously, how can he remember so many quotes AND who said them? I can barely remember my debit card pin number.

I’m telling you, I spent an hour and a half talking to myself like this because he is that interesting!

Then there is my public speaking teacher who is from Nigeria. Completely animated and expressive man, but you have to listen carefully to what he is saying because his accent is super thick. Every time he spoke about “context” I would blush because it came out sounding like “cunt-x”.

Two semesters ago I had a communications teacher who had a thick English accent. ED told me his communications teacher was from India. How incredibly interesting that the community college communication instructors are all individuals whose primary language to communicate is not “American” at all!

All this is to say that I really do love being in school. I am completely worn out by the time I get home but the experience is so worth it to me.

Work. School. Homework.

Sleep and repeat.

Blogfully yours,

Summer

PS – please remind me of this post when finals roll around and I am wondering why the hell I decided to go back to school!

Back to School

Studying Can Wait, I’m Answering the Call of the Wild Instead

August 3rd, 2009

Sometimes a girl needs a break, even when it is not the smartest thing to do.

I spent most of Sunday studying for my math final, but truthfully, there is only so much studying I can take so I decided to take a break and go for a hike instead.

One of the perks of living in Salt Lake City is you can be to most of the major hiking trails in 20 to 30 minutes. So I filled my hiking pack with some water, grabbed a granola bar and was off!

I ended up going up Big Cottonwood Canyon to the Mill B North Fork trail.

Balancing on jagged rocks near the edge of a cliff to take a picture of myself. Smart. Very smart.

Balancing on jagged rocks near the edge of a cliff to take a picture of myself. Smart. Very smart.

View from the top. I think...

View from the top. I think...

I can’t say I fully recommend this hike. Well, unless you enjoy hiking up vertical patches of lose slate gravel, in which case you would LOVE this hike! I swear I’ve never butt scooted and monkey climbed so much while hiking. So I’ll just say, hike it at your own risk.

Utah has so many hiking trails to offer and while I’ll not be returning to this particular one any time soon, it was the perfect way to put off studying for a few more hours and I’m glad I did.

Math final is Monday afternoon then I am out on summer break for three weeks! Freedom is nearly mine!

YAY!

Blogfully yours,

Summer

Back to School, Hiking

Minor, OK Major Set Back

July 28th, 2009

I’ve lost it.

My red spiral bound 3 subject school notebook. It’s lost. Have you seen it? The hotel hasn’t seen it? It wasn’t in my suitcase or any of my roommates suitcases. It will be easy to recognize becasue it has a semsters worth of math notes along with 5 practice tests and, oh yeah, the practice final.

Did I mention the final is in a week?

I’ve already had to take an exam (yesterday) without having notes to study or without really knowing which chapters the test would be on and while I don’t know my score yet, I’m willing to bet it’s not going to be great.

Kindly, if you find my red spiral bound 3 subject notebook please return it back to me. I’ll gladly pay for overnight shipping and will give you a Mr. Potato Head doll I got from one of the conference swag bags as a finders reward.

Blogfully yours,

Summer

Back to School, BlogHer09

Getting There is Half the Fun (I Swear This Will Be The Last Time I Mention BlogHer)

July 27th, 2009

Chicago and the BlogHer convention were basically awesome, and by awesome I mean it kicked my ass. Both the city and the mass amount of estrogen was enough to leave me feeling exhausted, overwhelmed and unprepared most of the time. But hell, what’s an adventure without the anxiety?

Getting from the Chicago airport to the hotel was the first leg of the adventure. My lovely, independent and resourceful traveling companion, Sarah, and I decided mass transit was the way to go. One surprisingly non-scary train ride and a bus in the wrong direction followed by one in the right direction but dropping us off a mile from our hotel forcing us carry our over sized luggage through the crowded streets of Chicago (because we sure as hell were not going to ask for directions or call a cab) later, we arrived.

Matching travel outfits not required

Matching travel outfits not required.

Oh, you mean busses go in both directions?

Oh, you mean buses go in both directions?

As we stumbled through the hotel lobby doors, hot, sweaty and ready to do anything but be social, part of me felt proud that we made it all on our own without asking for help from anyone but Mrs. iPhone (AKA Google maps). That part of me wanted to drop my bags and scream, “We made it! We finally fucking made it! Look out! Independent women coming through!”

Fortunately I refrained.

As for the actual conference, between the session, the mommy bloggers, the parties, the free swag and the whole experience that is Chicago, I think I’ll let the pictures give a small glimpse of the story.

Beauty in the city

Beauty in the city along the Magnificent Mile.

Napping is crucial to survival

Napping is crucial to survival.

Meeting Jenny the Bloggess. I'm awkward, she's medicated.

Meeting Jenny the Bloggess. I'm awkward, she's medicated.

Totally worth waiting over an hour and almost being denied booze for

Totally worth waiting over an hour for and almost being denied booze.

Sitting by what I now know is the Chicago River thanks to twitter

Sitting by what I now know is the Chicago River thanks to my twitter peps.

Cheeseburger party sponsored by McDonalds in a hotel suite. Oddly enough, one of the few parties shut down by hotel security.

Cheeseburger party sponsored by McDonalds in a hotel suite. Oddly enough, one of the few parties shut down by hotel security.

BlogHer style brown bag found in the lobby.

BlogHer style brown bag found in the lobby.

Who wouldn't want to share a room with these beautiful ladies?

Who wouldn't want to share a room with these beautiful ladies?

I want to publicly say I adore my roommates Sandi, Loralee and Sarah. They made my experience so much better than I possibly imagined.

Whew!

Going out of town is always an adventure and I am so glad I went on this one. I learned a lot and was forced out of my comfort zone. I made some new amazing friendships and have enough around the table drinking stories to keep my friends rolling for months to come.

However, for me, the best part of this adventure (or really any for that matter) is finally returning home from it. The smile I got on my face when I saw the Wasatch Mountains through the airplane window could only be topped by seeing ED roll up at the airport to pick me up.

Home sweet chaotic home!

Blogfully yours,

Summer

BlogHer09, Out and About, Story Time, Vacations, blogging

My First (and possibly last) Guest Blogger!

July 23rd, 2009

I’m off learning how to be a better, more efficient blogger, which is code for I’m on vacation in Chicago.  I asked my long time friend Chip if he would be interested in writing a guest post. I think his response was something like “sure, why the fuck not?” I told him this was his chance to write on a females blog about anything he wanted. That was all the direction I gave him…

Lord help me, I hope this goes over well!

Blogfully yours,

Summer

***

If it’s one thing I hate, it’s touchy-feely, self-help articles written by delusional, overly-sensitive morons who can’t even help themselves. If it’s two things I hate, it’s when those touchy-feely, self-help articles get emailed to me.

Awhile back, I found such an article in my in-box. Written by a guy who positioned himself as the “voice of all men,” the list was supposed to be a guide for women – you know, so they could “understand” us men better. Normally, I’d dump that kind of dog shit in the trash faster than you can say “Women Are From Venus, Men Are From Uranus,” and then instantly terminate my friendship with whoever forwarded it to me, but for some reason, I read it.

It was awful. Like “Runaway Bride” awful. It was insipid, it was spineless, and it was flat-out misrepresenting the male of our species. If anything, it was only going to make women think that men are more pathetic than we already are.

So in an effort to set the record straight – and to retain some of our dignity, I’ve written a response to each of the points in the original article. That original article – AND THIS IS IMPORTANT – is directly below, in italics. And yes, I’m going to ask you to read it. Quickly. Yes, it’s going to be painful, but it’s necessary to build up the proper amount of nausea to understand my retort – which immediately follows. (You may need a bottle of whiskey to get through this first part though…)

What Scares a Man?

By David Zinczenko, for Men’s Health

You probably think you know what frightens most men. A long-weekend at the in-laws’ place. Antiquing. Running out of beer in the third quarter. But that’s just the stuff he’ll admit to being afraid of, which, by definition, means they’re not his true deep fears. So how can you determine what those are? Easy: They’re the ones he’ll almost never talk about. But I will. Let’s count down through the Scary Fifteen:

#15 Hair in the drain. The first sign of male pattern baldness brings a man face-to-follicle with a skimpy aspect of his future. And it’s always earlier than he expects or wants (which is, like, never). Logically, men know that baldness is as much of a part of life as Leno making Britney jokes. Logically, men know that being bald doesn’t mean that they’re any less smart, virile, or successful. Logically, men know that women don’t care how much hair their men have. Logically, men know there are plenty of bald men who are comfortable in their skin–no matter how much of it they’re showing. But when it first happens, it feels like stepping on a scale and being 20 pounds heavier or waking up in high school with a quarter-sized nose pimple. It’s the inevitable and uncontrollable change in appearance that men try so desperately to protect. Maybe even more importantly, this moment when a man starts losing his hair says a lot about him-whether he’s cool enough to handle it, or anxious enough to attempt to deny it with comb-overs, Rogaine, or faith healers.

#14 Getting caught noticing another woman. A man’s instinctual response to visual stimulation very rarely has anything to do with his current relationship or how he feels about it. But his lizard brain reacts instantly, and before he knows he’s doing it, he’s looking at someone else. We hate having to explain behaviors that even we don’t fully understand.

#13 Rejection. Doesn’t matter whether it happens after a job interview, or at a bar, or on the basketball court. And remember, there’s a difference between losing and being outright rejected. Men can handle losing a game or having a bar conversation disintegrate into nothing. But the proud creatures that men are, they hate having their shots blocked. Mainly, that’s because it means that someone else has the upper hand-and is gloating about it.

#12 Super Nanny.

#11 Speedos.

#10 His dad’s death. It’s his most powerful moment of a reflection, as he thinks about his own mortality. Becoming the family patriarch is heavy stuff. For many men, it’s a life-changing moment, because they think about what their fathers did for them and what they failed to do. The next step: considering what they need to do to be better dads and better men themselves–which means they must confront their own failures, as well. That’s a lot for a grief-stricken man to deal with. He should get some latitude to do that in his own way. For him, reaching out may be through what seem like misdirections–more chatter about fishing with friends, an extra set of tickets to the Phillies showdown with the Mets. But guys need a reason to get together; the talk will come during a slow point in the 6th inning, or in the car on the way home.

#9 Her tears. Men know it’s natural, that women need to do it, and that it’s a signal that they better provide something more than just a tissue-even though many men have no clue what that something might be. Men have been told that women cry for all kinds of reasons-to release some emotions, to get our attention, or just because dammit, The Bachelor rose ceremony is so stinkin’ sad. Men want to do the right thing, but because men don’t navigate those falling waters very often, they probably do the wrong thing more often than not. Which is another reason why they fear her emotional tsunami.

#8 Being a lousy lover. Of all the things that men want to happen in bed, pleasing their women ranks near the top of the list, according to a national Men, Love, and Sex survey by Harris Interactive. Men hate to think that women may be bored, unimpressed, or unsatisfied. Maybe it’s an ego thing (okay, it is an ego thing), but men do very genuinely care about how much pleasure a woman is having in bed. That’s why the faking thing drives men so crazy. To men, feigned pleasure is code for: You’re so damn terrible at this, but there there, little fella, I’m gonna make you feel good about your inadequate self. Men want to know what women want, and they want to be successful in delivering it.

#7 Not being a god to his kids. There comes a time when men don’t care much about what strangers, co-workers, friends, in-laws, or anybody else thinks about them. But when a kid articulates his father’s flaws, it’s the ultimate heart crumbler. Men know that sometimes they work too much or are too short-fused or simply fall short on the hero-dad meter, but deep down, they know it’s the most important job that they’re going to do. And if they don’t do it right, they know there’s a significant chink in their masculine armor.

#6 Living paycheck to paycheck. Even though men aren’t the only hunters and providers anymore, they still feel a deep evolutionary pull to provide the backbone and protection for their tribe. When men lose money, can’t make enough money, or are scrounging for money, it can be an emotional disaster-it makes them feel like they’re losing control in their lives.

#5 Beautiful women. Few things intimidate men more than IRS audits and 12-foot birdie putts. A beautiful woman is one of them. A beautiful woman-whether spotted at work, in bookstores, driving in the next lane, anywhere-simply has the power to turn a man of steel into creamed corn. Men know this. Men try to resist this. Ultimately, it’s a challenge. Beauty may be a short-lived form of power, but it is profound, and nearly all men cower before it. It can make them do really, really stupid things.

#4 Getting naked. Ladies shouldn’t think that they’re alone in fleshy hang-ups. Guys are just as concerned about what women will initially think about their body hair, muscles, guts, toes, and other parts. Men are deeply aware that they can be too fat, too skinny, too hairy, too smelly, and while men are eager to revel in a woman’s body, they also share anxiety about revealing their own.

#3 Tofurky.

#2 Not seeing his kids grow up. Death, of course, scares everyone-not so much for the bad stuff that may happen to them, but for missing out on all the good stuff that will happen to their kids. Or, worse yet, not being around to protect them from the bad stuff.

# 1 Public humiliation. Here’s one that will make even the strongest men cave: Looking weak. Whether a man is extremely secure-or insanely insecure-about himself, he’s worries that he’ll look incompetent, idiotic, or both. Doesn’t matter whether it’s a zipper malfunction, an off-color joke he mistakenly slips in during a speech, a dismissive statement by a boss in a department meeting, fumbling the fly ball at a softball game, getting arrested for fighting after his kid’s soccer game, whatever. It’s one thing to make mistakes. But making the reputation-damaging ones in public is tough to take. That’s because as much as men try to protect their homes, their families, their appearance, and their jobs, perhaps the most nerve-wracking job of all is protecting the thing they can’t cure with money, with effort or with laser hair removal: their reputations.

And now, my response:

Interesting, David, but your article simply doesn’t apply to me.

#15. Hair in the drain? Screw it. I’ve shaved my head lots of times. If I start going bald, I’ll do it again. Men don’t care about hair as much as self-help articles like this say they do. Bruce Willis is getting laid a lot more than Yanni or Fabio, dipshit.

#14. Getting caught checking out other women. Please. I only date women who point out hot chicks.

#13. Rejection. To me, succumbing to rejection is like getting bucked off a horse and not getting back on. If you give up, you’re a pussy and should be castrated as not to pollute our gene pool.

#12. Super Nanny? Are you kidding? Any man who’s scared of Super Nanny is a man who doesn’t have the balls or intelligence to discipline his own kids. Again, these people are dipshits who should not be breeding.

#11. Speedos. Speedos are like clowns. They’re not scary if you avoid them.

#10. A father’s death. This is retarded. If you have to wait until your father dies to realize your own mortality, then you need to stop screwing your sister, stop watching NASCAR, and have someone come over and slap you in the face. Wake the fuck up. Until you do, you’ll only be an embarrassment to your dad, mama’s-boy.

#9. A woman’s tears. Nothing about this is scary. Sad maybe. But scary? Be a man. Be there for her like she’s been there for you. Make her (and yourself) a stiff cocktail and get through it together. If this goes on for days, drink more. If this goes on for years, kill her.

#8. Being a bad lover. Good sex is about two things: Communication and the right physical fit. If you and your chick can’t talk about what you like, or if you’re always trying to pound a square peg into one of those triangle-shaped holes, the sex is going to be bad. (NOTE: If you actually have a square peg, or she has a triangle-shaped hole, one of you is a space alien.)

#7. Not being a god to his kids. Who’s the douche who wrote THAT shit? You don’t need to be a “god” to anyone. All you need is for your kids to respect  you – which isn’t going to happen if you keep watching American Idol and writing stupid shit like this. Plus, here’s a little newsflash, chief: You’re not a god and you never will be.

#6. Living paycheck to paycheck. I understand that this can be scary. But ambition and a little responsibility will go a long way towards eliminating this. Translation: Get a job and use a condom. The world is tired of bankrolling your bankrupt lifestyle and your retarded fuck trophies.

#5. Beautiful women. If you’re a man who’s scared of beautiful women, check yourself for testicles. If you feel some and are still curled up in a ball, just remember this: No matter how beautiful she is, keep in mind that somewhere, someone is sick and tired of her shit. If that doesn’t cure you, kill yourself. You’re too pathetic to breathe the same air as me.

#4. Getting naked. If you’re scared of someone seeing you naked, maybe it’s time to put down the Krispy Kreme, the Taco Bell, the Starbucks Double Vanilla Cappuccino Latte Thingy, and hit the gym. Period.

#3. Tofurky. The only reason you should be scared of this is if you’re being forced to eat it. And if you’re being forced to eat it, either A) you need to tell your chick to back the fuck off or B) listen to her because she’s probably trying to tell you to lose that spare tire so she’ll find you less revolting and want to have sex with you again sometime.

#2. Not being around to raise your kids. Shut the fuck up. Chances are — if you’re like 90% of the people I see who have kids these days — YOU’RE not raising them at all anyway. Instead, you’re letting our system of social welfare do it, or worse – you have plenty of money and a nanny is raising them. What?  You want to see them become adults so you can see what a success they’ve become? Let me put your mind at ease: Your little angels aren’t gonna amount to shit if you keep letting them sit around all day eating Cheetos and playing X-Box. Try taking an active role in raising them now, dumbass.

#1. Public humiliation. Yawn. It’s only humiliating if you allow it to be. What ever happened to laughing at yourself?

FINAL THOUGHT:

I don’t blame women for being fed up with the modern-day heterosexual male. If you’re a male and you’re scared of this kind of stuff, you’re a giant pussy. Conversely, MY male friends — gay or straight — aren’t scared of any of this bullshit. We’re men. Real men. And we’re tired of all the self-help columnists making us look bad. Here’s some tampons and Oprah’s book of the month. Get the fuck out of my sight.

Sincerely,

Chip Haskell

I was going to post a "nice" picture of Chip but I thought that would be too girly of me and this is, afterall, a guys post.

I was going to post a "nice" picture of Chip but I thought that would be too girly of me and this is, afterall, a guys post.

BlogHer09, Guest Blogger, Posts Grandma won't approve of, blogging

I Can’t Believe She Actually Hit Me!

June 18th, 2009

Yesterday was much like any other day. I got off work and headed to school. I pulled into a parking spot near the back of the lot, parked and began my ritual of putting on a fresh coat of lipstick and powdering my nose. I was lost in my own thoughts while looking at my reflection when I was rudely jolted into consciousness by another car pulling in and hitting the front of my car! I snapped the visor mirror shut and stared at the driver who was now backing up a few inches so that she was no longer on top of my car. The driver did not meet my jaw dropped, appalled gaze. No courtesy wave. No mouthing of “oops” or “sorry”. No getting out to make sure my bumper was still attached. No, this reckless SUV driving student did nothing. I kept on staring at her, in shock of this woman’s ignorance and lack of common courtesy manners. Surely at any minute she was going to get out of her car and apologize. I had no idea what I should do. Do I walk over, pound on her door and demand an apology? Do I try to out wait her (at this point she is busy continuing to act like she is oblivious to me and collecting her things) and confront her then?

In the end I did nothing. I’m not a confrontational person and I was on my way to take a math test so, I did nothing. Seriously, what does one do in this situation? No damage was done to either of our cars. Really it was only a parking nudge, but it’s the principle of this person having the audacity to completely ignore the fact that she hit me. It irks me! It also irks me that I don’t know if I should have responded or not.

What would you have done?

Blogfully yours,

Summer

Back to School, Bag full of complaints

Damn Doctor Knows Best

June 2nd, 2009

Over the weekend I disobeyed the doctors orders and it felt great! That is, until Monday morning.

Friday I went to the X96 Big Ass Show with Karina the Russian. I was a lot more behaved than I was last year when I was running around getting my picture taken with every rock star I laid eyes on. But, when you have VIP tickets which give you access to free beer…. it would have been a shame to let it go to waste.

A few of the bands I really enjoyed watching were The Airborne Toxic Event (seriously in love with these guys! If you don’t know who they are watch THIS), Red Jumpsuit Apparatus and of course Offspring. Offspring was the headlining band and they tore it up! It was so funny to watch Karina looking at everyone else sing along to the songs. “You don’t know this one?” I would scream over the crowd. Then she would look at me with her of course I don’t know this one I’m from Russia bitch look. I would of course laugh and she would tell me how she was going to take me to Russia and laugh at me when I didn’t know the bands who were playing.

The next morning Karina and I went to brunch. I had coffee and the most amazing crab Benedict served over cornbread with an avocado relish. I’m drooling thinking about it again. I kept marveling as we sat outside on the patio at how I really felt OK. All of the symptoms from last week seemed to have magically disappeared. How amazingly wonderful for me!

Saturday night I went to 2 barbecues where the food, margaritas and wine flowed freely. I felt great and had a wonderful time. Then Sunday came along. Damn you Sunday. Such a fun wrecker. I studied for over 12 hours trying to make up for all of my play time then I had a stress induced anxiety attack.

So now here I am, back where I started. Taking several over the counter meds and eating bland foods. Apparently when they talk about school being a sacrifice they are not kidding. My body is telling me I can no longer play like I used to plus handle the stress of work, school and finances. I think it sucks. I think I SHOULD be able to handle it all. But sadly, superwoman left the building a long time ago.

Blogfully yours,

Summer

Back to School, Bag full of complaints, Concert whore, K to the R stories, Out and About

Superwoman Can’t Fly Right Now, Check Back Tomorrow

April 15th, 2009

Sunday I was Superwoman, my alter-ego. I spent the morning doing homework, work projects and other obligations. Then I took a break to meet up with my family at the park to hide Easter eggs for the nieces and nephews. After hiding eggs, I went for a jog around the park then shopping at Wal Mart (no body cares if your sweaty and slightly smelly there) for some essentials. After I got back home I swept my porch and vacuumed my floors and couches, then went strait back to studying. I even made it to bed before midnight.

Yes, Sunday I was Superwoman. But now, Sunday is long gone and I’m afraid Superwoman has flown the coop.

I am utterly exhausted. I have no idea how to keep going at the rate I have been going. I know I am not the only person to work full time and go to school, but I don’t know how to keep going like this. I leave my house at 7:30 every morning and don’t get home until after 9 PM most days. When I finally unlock my door, drop my bags to the floor and change into my pajamas, I am spent. I want to do NOTHING but that is not exactly an option and stupid perky Superwoman is not around, so I have to literally force myself to get things done. I look like hell, makeup can only do so much to hide the dark circles from lack of a good nights rest. I am just plain overwhelmed.
The only thing that keeps me going? Just 3 more weeks until this semester is done, then I get a break.

I can do this… with or without my flaky Superwoman alter-ego.
Blogfully yours,
Summer

Back to School, Bag full of complaints

At the risk of ruining my bad ass image…

April 3rd, 2009

I am a fairly sensitive person. Even when I was a little girl my mother would tell me that I “wear my heart on my sleeve”. What’s worse it that I am very in touch with my crying genes.

Sad movie? Watch out for the waterworks because there is no stopping them.

Emotional television show (Greys, Private Practice, Brothers & Sisters, etc)? I keep tissues by the couch because it’s inevitable.

Country music? I had to boycott it because I would be driving down the street and almost get in a wreck because I couldn’t see through my stupid tears! I hate country music.

Recently my crying genes got the best of me while at school. No, it wasn’t over a test or out of frustration. It was because my math teacher, who I have had for 2 semesters in a row, shared the story of having to put her dog down because cancer had ravaged his body. We all knew that her dog was sick and that he was her world. She would often talk about it to some of us before class got started. So when I came into class to see her eyes red, I knew something was up. She apologized to the class in advance stating that she was sorry if she seemed distracted, then continued to share the story of bringing her beloved pet to the hospital, his final moments and even some pictures that her friend had taken of their last moments together. I bawled. I wasn’t alone either. The entire female population of the class was crying and some of the guys too. Honestly, how could you not?

After it happened, I told ED the story. He called me a sissy. I couldn’t argue. If by sissy you mean that I am in touch with my emotions and my heart reaches out to people who are hurting and the only way it knows how to do that is through ruining my make up, then yes, I am a sissy.

I know some people will think that it was unprofessional of the teacher to take up class time to share her story, and maybe it was. I didn’t mind though. Teaching is about all she has. She is a single retired woman who teaches because she loves it and honestly she is an amazing teacher. She lost the companion who was always waiting for her at home. It seems a little heartless to complain.

“Sissy”-fully yours,

Summer

Back to School, Story Time