You'll either win contests, or get your ass kicked.

I Googled "redneck doormat" the other day in a quest for something funny to put in front of my office door. Not too many results from that search, sadly, but I did find a funny line:

"For Halloween, I'm going as a redneck doormat. An Auburn football helmet should do it."

Ouch!

Friday kittehs

Can I see a doctor's note?—EPIC FAIL Week #26

My morning Regents' Exam remedial class was finishing up an in-class practice essay, and class was almost over. One by one, the students finished up their essays—doing the best they could as basic writers dealing with inane topics—and walked to the front of the room to turn in their papers.

One fellow, smelling of cigarette smoke and some kind of antiseptic, made his way up to where I was sitting. He folded his paper in half lengthwise, handed it to me, and gave me a sheepish little smile. "Just wanted to warn you: that's probably not very good," he said, motioning toward his paper on the top of the stack.

"That's what this class is for, don't worry," I replied, smiling back. Students say things like this all the time. "We have individual conferences next week, so you and I can sit down and talk about the problems you might be having."

"Well, no, that's not it," he said, scratching his head beneath his FREE MARY JANE trucker hat. "I, umm...well, I spent all weekend in the hospital."

"Oh no! I'm sorry to hear that! Are you all right now?"

He paused, and grinned again. "Well enough, I guess." A long pause. "It was, umm, ya know—" He made the motion of turning up a bottle to his mouth. "A little too much, ya know."

I didn't quite get it. "Umm..."

"Alcohol poisoning," he said. "Went in early Saturday morning, and they just released me at 7:00 this morning to come to class."

It was Tuesday.

Still moving up in the world

Lunch from the Campus Sushi Stop makes teaching so much easier. On the left: spicy crab roll, $5.79. On the right: white-rice-and-veggie combo, $5.29. And yes, I ate it ALL—it was certainly worth the splurge. (Rumor also has it that we're getting an on-campus Chick-fil-A, but I've yet to see it.)

Soon to come: pix from D2U's new coffee shop.

Gratitude

The last week has been a shitty one. First, one of my favorite students was hit and killed by a car; then another favorite student had to transfer to another class because another student in my class has been stalking her; and to top it all off, Merle, my sweet orange kitteh, was killed by a car. But I'm struggling to count my blessings.

Today, I'm grateful for...

• having gotten to know Brian
• the time I got to spend with Merle
• flowers
• rain
• my wonderful family and friends
• warm feet
• my job
  
• cloudy days
• yoga
  

How about you?

Myrtle Mae Monday: 1/26/09

When I posted that Myrtle Mae had disappeared, so many of you wrote the kindest, sweetest things in the Comments section. One comment in particular, from Kathleen, made me realize how much MM had affected this little corner of the internet:

My 3-year-old daughter and I celebrated each Myrtle May Monday by looking over the pictures and making up stories to one another. This is a tradition that meant so much to each of us. Thank you and Myrtle for giving this to us. We will miss her.

I could just see Kathleen and her little girl sitting in front of the computer, giggling and taking turns saying, "And then, Myrtle Mae said, 'Brk-brk-brrrrk!' to the kitty!" and enjoying themselves. That made me feel so good.

So in that spirit, today I give you some pictures of Myrtle Mae in various stages of egg-laying—she even laid an egg in the pet carrier when she made the long trip home to the HKC from my student David's house. Feel free to make up your own stories, and share them with a little person you love.

I have no answers.

Nor do I have a coherent post right now.

Brian's death has hit me hard. It makes everything else seem insignificant. This is probably because I've lost a loved one very suddenly, very cruelly, and I know a tiny bit of what his family is dealing with now.

I'll post more on it when I can get my thoughts together. Until then, I just feel strange posting on everyday, ordinary things.

Thoughts and prayers requested

A D2U student was hit by a car this morning near campus, and is in critical condition—he may not make it. Please say a prayer for him. I don't have a name, but I think "that guy who got hit by the car" will do.

Any prayers/good vibes you can send his way would be wonderful. Thank you.

UPDATE: The student passed away 15 minutes ago—I just found out that he was one of my favorite students from the summer's country music class. Please pray for Brian's family and friends.

Moving up in the world

Division II University now has fresh handmade sushi at the Food Court—thank heavens. This is the brown rice-and-veggie special.

Grateful today

Today, I am grateful for...

• the weather, however hot or cold it may be
• my Happy Kitten Cottage
• kittehs—not just mine, but all of them all over the world
• my wonderful family and friends
• a new refrigerator (and the sweet, considerate man who got it for me)
  
• career burnout—for it's showing me a new way ahead
• my students
  
• yoga

For what are you full of gratitude today?

Ask Mom™

Once again, it's time for Ask Mom™, the weekly column where my and Pixie's mom answers E&P readers' personal questions. Here we go!

Dear Mom: The manager I'm working for right now is asking me to do a bunch of work that, frankly, she should be doing. She has more experience than I do at my job, yet she's asking me questions that make her sound as if she doesn't know a thing. How do I handle this?
[maniacal laughter]
How do you handle it? OK, the first thing you do is before you go to work is kick the dog, punch a hole in the wall—whatever you gotta do to make sure you have all your aggression out, you're all mellowed out before you go talk to this woman. If you don't, you might end up saying stuff like, "Who are you blowing to keep your job?" or "Did your mama get you dressed this morning?" or "You're about as bright as a two-watt light bulb, ya know?" Bide your time and find out if this woman really is as dumb as a box of hammers, if she's testing you to see if you know your stuff, OR if she's trying to find out what your Bullshit Quotient is. For a few weeks, take her with a grain of salt and a large margarita. If she turns out to actually be dumb as shit, grab her by the throat, bounce her off a wall, and see if she sticks. Boogers stick to the wall. P.S. I can lend you a shovel handle if you need it. It looks more professional than a 2x4.

PLEASE NOTE: Mom does NOT condone the kicking or other abuse of dogs, cats, or other animals. Humans, however, are fair game.

Dear Mom: In a catalog, I saw this gorgeous skirt, but it's really expensive. Can I make my own circle skirt and trim the hem with soutache ribbon embroidery, or should I suck it up and drop $149 on the skirt?
Have you lost your damn mind?!? Well, you will if you try making that skirt yourself. Go pick up cans on the side of the road to make that skirt money—I got $40 last week for a truck-bed full of aluminum.

Our last letter is from Angry Professor at A Gentleman's C—
Dear Mom: My walk-in shower has a drywall ceiling, which is suffering moisture damage. I would like to tile it to match the shower walls. Can I do this myself or should I hire a professional?
[long, hard stare over bifocals—"The Look"]
Okay, the first thing you should do, if you really want this to be a D.I.Y. thing, is schedule an appointment to have sex with your husband—because by the end of the project, you'll be screaming at each other and then won't speak for at least two weeks. Seriously, have you ever set tile? Have you ever hung or torn out drywall? If you've done either of those things yourself, you might be successful at doing this yourself. But there are probably a lot of other things going on behind that drywall: mildew, steam/water damage, toxic mold, the whole nine yards. Not to mention you gotta rent a big complicated machine just to install ceiling drywall in the first place. And once you start this project, you HAVE to finish it right away. No waiting around 'til next weekend or any of that shit. So unless you're sick of your husband and are actually wanting this project to help speed along your imminent divorce, call a professional. Having to tile the ceiling: DO NOT WANT.

Do you have a question for Mom? You can submit it in one of two ways: by e-mailing me through my Blogger profile, or by leaving your question in the Comments section below. Mom will answer as many questions as she can each week—and remember, no topic's off limits.

Myrtle Mae Monday: 1/19/09

In today's posthumous Myrtle Mae Monday, I give you the video of her and the kittehs battling it out for french fries.

Remember that nasty refrigerator?

You know, the one I was faced with cleaning out at Thanksgiving?


It's GONE! And in its place...


...a gleaming new Kenmore refrigerator—a Christmas present from the Colonel! HOORAY!


Can you believe the cleanliness? The shininess? The newness? Neither can I! I'm afraid to put anything in here, it's so nice and clean.

Of course, moving the old one and cleaning the floor where it had been was an exercise in controlling my gag reflex.


You'll note that this pic is NOT a close-up. I didn't want to make any of you sick.


Hey—what's that? It better not be cat poop.


My creativity's been hiding under the fridge all this time. I'll be damned.


COLONEL: Next up is your water heater.
ME: My water heater?
COL: Your water heater.
ME: What's wrong with it?
COL: It's 25 years old, and pitiful. You need a more efficient one.


ME: Awww, what's wrong with a little J-B Weld holding the entire thing together?
COL: Hush.

BRRRRR!

It's 9:17am, and according to the Weather Channel, it's currently 20 degrees in Small Town. On the HKC's back porch, the thermometer reads 17. Brrr!

Those of you in the Midwest and Northeast: please try not to laugh. We don't see lows in the teens too often down here, especially not as often as we used to. When I was growing up, we'd have very hard freezes a dozen times every winter. That maybe happens once or twice per winter these days. So you can understand why we're all freaked out and stuff.


I left this scrub brush in the bottom of a rain bucket. Whoops!


On the back porch, the kittehs' water bowls are frozen solid.


And I do mean solid.


The ice I left in the back of the truck last night? It's perfectly fine.

In memory of my dad

Newton B. Goode: 5 Oct 1946 - 16 Jan 1997

I guess it was around January 3 or 4 that I headed back to Athens. Classes would begin in just a few days, and I always liked to get back into town early so I could settle in and be ready to learn when the first day of the semester arrived. Daddy was half-sitting, half-lying on the big gray abstract print sofa in the sun room, right outside my bedroom, when I came in to say goodbye. "Headin' out, Wayaa?" He called me by the nickname my sister had given me when she was just learning to talk.

As we said our goodbyes, and Daddy told me he loved me, I hugged him tight. As I got up to get my purse and keys, something zapped through my brain: What if this is the last time I ever see him? But I dismissed it. That's silly. Just a weird New Year thing.

He was dead 13 days later.

Front porch kittehs!

Spring Semester began on Monday, and things are really hectic—so in the meantime, I give you some pictures of the outdoor kittehs. I snapped these during a warm spell right around New Year's. Enjoy!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE COLONEL!

This afternoon, I'll be preparing a birthday lunch for the Colonel in my newly-cleaned kitchen. Can you believe I've known him for almost eight years and have never cooked a meal for him? Hope the shock doesn't kill him. Or the food, for that matter.

Ask Mom™

Once again, it's time for another installment of Ask Mom™, the weekly E&P column where my and Pixie's Mom answers your personal questions. Anything's game—so here we go!

How do I get my significant other to help with the housework more? He helps out only when asked, and does just the bare minimum. How can I get more cooperation out of him?
Shit, if I knew the answer to that one, I'd be richer than Bill Gates. Next question.

My birthday is coming up. Should I tell my husband to buy me diamonds, or pearls?
Tell him to go to Home Depot or Lowe's and buy you a circular saw, a really nice one, like a Milwaukee or something like that. If he's got a big limit on the credit card, well hell, just tell him to go ahead and get a DeWalt. Even better, if he buys you the DeWalt combo pack—you know, with a circular saw and a drill and a reciprocating saw, in the little rolling hard-side case?—they throw in a flashlight for free.

Who would you rather sleep with: Indiana Jones-era Harrison Ford, or James Bond-era Sean Connery? You can choose only one.
I'd step out in front of a Greyhound bus. Seriously, how could you people expect me to CHOOSE?!? What is WRONG with you?

Do you have a question for Mom? Please send e-mail it to me through my Blogger profile, with "Ask Mom" in the subject line. Be sure to include your blog's URL (if you have one), and/or what "blog name" you'd like to be called.

Myrtle Mae Monday: 1/12/09

Myrtle Mae loved to eat. Here are some pictures of her with various foods.

I sure do miss my fierce red chikin. RIP, Myrtle Mae.


With a Chick-fil-A sandwich (yes, gross, I know).


With a nice, ripe peach from the Farmer's Market.


With a misshapen watermelon, and an overripe one, from my neighbor's garden.


With cat food on the back porch.


With freshly-steamed brown rice.


With blueberries, right off the shrubs in the front yard.


With a rather phallic-looking winter squash.