Welcome to Drama School...
OH, FOR THE LOVE OF PETE!
I was asked today, "What if [the principal] doesn't deal with the discipline referral I sent up? I've already called the parent and he did it with Gary's write-up."
Mr. Asshole: "Well, with the Gary thing you know..."
Mrs. Nervous Nelly: "I know, but that's not the only time..."
Let me pause the broadcast for some commentary...Mr. Principal ditched Gary's second write-up from Mrs. Nelly because he realized he shouldn't have sent him back to her class that day. He wasn't think, made a mistake, and didn't want to punish the boy for his mistake...
Let's carry on...
Mrs. Nelly: "...I wrote up that girl (I don't remember who she said) and I called her mom, but he never did anything and she asked about it."
Let's pause again...I have no idea what she's talking about. I know that if she told me last year when it apparently happened, I would have told her exactly what I told her today. Also, I remember last year he would have stacks of write-ups on his desk waiting to be dealt with, but it being his first year...as a prinicipal, not at the school...had to learn to negotiate his time and responsibilities.
Let's carry on...
Mr. Asshole: "Well, then ask Mr. Principal what happened."
What I would have told her last year. Simple advice to all teachers...your principal does something questionable or doesn't do something you think he or she should...talk to him first. No satisfaction, think he or she is still wrong, go elsewhere...but I learned from my Mr. Principal that most of the time, even if I don't agree, there's still a reasonable explanation.
Now, ladies and gentlemen...the fun doesn't stop there...Then we had to talk about the duty schedule.
Our duty schedule got reworked because Mr. Principal forgot to include lunch duty. There are four duties and there are four middle school teachers...one duty a day. Morning duty, stand outside with the students. Lunch duty, sit in the gym, where we eat lunch, and watch the students. Lunch detention, when we have students with lunch detention, sit in a room and make sure the thought of fun never crosses their minds. Afternoon duty, um...well, there really isn't an afternoon duty. We keep the students in our portables until the buses show. I think he put it there for political reasons or possibly if there's a need for something in the afternoon. Original complaints were that we don't have a day's break. One, the duties aren't difficult and save for the lunch ones, not time consuming. The PE teacher isn't on the duty rotation...except she's a part time teacher who doesn't get there until after school starts, leaves before school ends, and has lunch duty everyday...so she doesn't get a break either. And if you have afternoon duty, or no students have lunch detention, like we haven't had yet, then we get breaks.
Today's complaint...the high school has eight teachers and four duties, so they get breaks and we don't...Ok, didn't I already explain that we do have breaks, kind of, unofficially. And can we blame Mr. Principal that the school has twice as many high school teachers as there are middle school teachers? The high school teachers also have more students and more classes to prepare for. They have an A/B schedule to keep track of and we do the same schedule every day. I don't see a valid complaint here.
But I slipped. The schedule is designed for the middle school students to get to school before the high school students so they should be in class when the high schoolers arrive...and they are scheduled to leave earlier so they are gone by the time the high schoolers leave...except the middle school buses are ALWAYS late...so, it's not working out that way. I made a comment that between the student who do arrive before the high school day begins and the fact that the buses aren't here yet while the high schoolers are driving home, we spend more time with the students...it's an inequitable amount of time compared to the high school teachers. Inequitable. A neutral adjective. Not a complaint.
But man, it's something..."Didn't you say we spend an inequitable amount of..."
YES! Geez, I did...but I also said that it's the transportation department's foul up and has NOTHING to do with Mr. Principal. As long as he calls them regularly to tell them we really need the buses here on time...we have no complaints for Mr. Principal.
If only...it was that simple.........
Open Wound Monday...and Assorted Bits and Pieces
Ok, I haven't been keeping up with my blogging and every couple of days or so, something happens and I think, "I's gottsta blog 'bout dis", because apparently my internal monologue is voiced by Seth Green in his role from
Can't Hardly Wait...If you're not positive...that's Seth on the far left with the goggles.
As Seth's character Kenny would say...Anywizzay...On, with the blog...
Unfortunately, going back to work has interfered with my groove...not that I had much groove...but I'm going to blame work anyway.
Ok, so some of the stuff I wanted to blog about includes...
I must be Marlin Perkins, because I live in the Wild Kingdom. See, not only do I have metamorphing beasts who rum up and down the hall saying they are sharks, or dinosaurs, or Nightcrawlers (the superhero from the X-Men, not the worms), or everything in the ocean...True story, Delta-Boy ran into the room one day and said, quite proudly, "I'm everything in the ocean!" He continues to do that every so often. And Sierra-Girl is ALWAYS Catball, which is a reference to the Newton in a Bottle video with a computer cat that turns into a ball. Not only do I have those 4 random animals running about, but I have toy animals EVERYWHERE...and some very realistic rubber animals that lurk in the shadowy hall and creep into your peripheral vision just enough so that you go, "AHH! It's a beetle!" or "AHH! It's a snake!" or "AHH! It's a tyranosaurus. Do I stand still and hope he sees by movement like they said in Jurassic Park? But I heard that that wouldn't have been true, so do I need to book down the hall and hope for the best?" But then you realize it is not in fact a real tyranosaurus, but a little toy...heh.
Another blog that didn't get blogged was that I discovered what true flattery is...I was sitting in my chair, much like I am now, cruising the internet highways and byways and NOT looking at porn (hey, honey). Sierra-Girl was sitting on The Landing leading into the family room playing with a phone and I heard her saying, "Hey Dada...bye....Hey Dada...bye..." and every so often, "Hey Dada...uh uhn uh uhnn uh...bye." That's flattery. I mean, a child calling you when you're playing phones is one thing...but your 2 year old daughter calling you over and over when you're not playing...that's flattery.
ANd finally, what I was going to blog about today, once it happened...OPEN WOUND MONDAY!
That's right, folks...today was special because today I got myself a gaping wound! AND, the best part...I'm going to share!
Ooh-eee, will you look at that! Now, that's the best open wound I've had since that 200 lbs. ram tried to wrap my hand around a tree.
How did this gem occur? Our goats eat from a round bail of hay, and we wrap a "Hay Ring" around the hay. The Hay Ring is some sort of stock panelling cut long, with a little extra tied at the end for flexibility and insurance that it will go around the whole hay bail. Well, we rolled a new bail in recently and it needed the ring, lest goats start dancing on it and ruining it, so I moved it today. Well, last time I moved the ring, I got shocked because it hit the electric fence, so this time, I endeavored to control more carefully the progress of the ring, a fairly unwieldy and cumbersome item when stretched and unrung. Well, as I tried to carefully avoid the electric fence, I lost control. It wobbled and jiggled and fell on its side, which jerked the end I was holding up out of my hand and then trust it back down across my knee. Now, some people may say I should do the chores in jeans, but if I start to do that, what kind of wounds would I have to show you then? Yeah, nothing special...So until it turns cold, I stick with no jeans chores...for you.
First Day Back...There's No "Jerk" in Team...
Ok, today was the first day back to work. No students, just teachers, staff, getting ready...having meetings, learning how to break fingers, fun stuff.
Last year was drama central, so while I've set my mind to being optimistic and trying to lead the wayward souls of my coworkers to a more pleasant and successful year. But it's been hard to forget some of the shenanigans from last year...but damn it, I'm going to do everything I can to prevent last year from happening again.
Today's endeavor? Getting everyone to lunch together. We were breaking for our lunch hour and I loudly said, "Hey, why don't we ALL eat together?" Idea fairly well received. Over half of the group decided to go along. SUCCESS!
But wait...Is there a chink in the plan? Well, I was in the first load to arrive at the restaurant. Someone asked, "So, do we go on in?"
I say, "No, we need to wait because I don't know how many are in the second group."
Then, my archenemy rears his ugly head...Now, before I go on, my archenemy here is not a specific person, it's a mentality...It's the unwillingness to accommodate...My archenemy said, "No, let's go on and get a table."
I stayed outside while they went in. I waited for my other coworkers while the others were sitting down. They took the first booth available. Seats 4. We were 4 in the first load...No room at all for the others. Well, thank you team player.
I apologized to the second group, posited a couple of less than perfect solutions (eating outside in the 95 degree heat), and it was decided to just eat separately. Well, fuck.
But then a light...the tables next to us open up. Two tables next to each other. I scramble up, go and say, "Hey, these two tables opened up, want us to pull one of those tables to us and sit as a group?"
"Sure."
So I go and start moving one of the tables. A waiter comes up and says, "Sir, we can't have a table here."
Archenemy (from the same guy too), "No, Asshole, you can't do that."
Well, how bout you fucking help me come up with a way to get us together as a group like was originally planned but which you ruined by being impatient and non-accommodating, buddy.
Luckily, someone in group 2 knew, realized, figured out what I was trying to do and said, "Well, why don't we all just move to the paired tables you were getting that one from."
HALLELUIA!
Damn it...I'm trying to get us to be a team and cutting the stragglers to fend for themselves IS NOT ACTING LIKE A TEAM!!! Fucking jerk.
The day on the whole went well save for that little incident. I'm a lot more authentically optimistic about this year than I was before today when I had to try to be optimistic. Still, clearly, there are some issues we need to overcome.
And the comment about learning how to break fingers is kind of real. Technically it was a simple selfdefense course and a lot of the stuff we were shown we were also told not to use except for life and death situations, so we wouldn't want to use them in most student situations. But I know, basically, how to grab a gun out of someone's hand while breaking or at least dislocating his finger. So, that's cool. When I snap and need to go all Rambo on people, I'll have the skills now. I should be getting my school district issued license to kill by the first day of school with students.
Zebra-Girl and the Case of the Disappearing Fingernails
So, every so often my wife reminds me that I have nails, both on my fingers AND toes, and that while my goal of becoming a human velociraptor may be noble, it makes living and sleeping with me hazzardous for her, so she makes me clip them.
The other day was fingernail day. I was sitting on the couch clipping dutifully my fingernails to non-disemboweling length, when little Zebra-Girl came walking up all inquisitive:
"What...what...what you doing?"
"I'm clipping my fingernails, baby girl."
"Clip my...my...my fingernails."
"No, baby girl, you don't need your nails clipped, and when you do you'll want momma to do it because she's less likely to clip a while finger off."
At this point she just stands and watched.
*clip*
*clip*
*clip*
"Zebra-Girl...What happened to my pile of nails?"
"... ... ..."
"Get on out of hear...we don't need a mine field of dadda nail clippings on the floor."
Zebra-Girl walks away...Oddly not upset. Thrifty Momma looked as Zebra-Girl left the room.
"Asshole, I think she has your fingernails with her."
"Zebra-Girl...Bring me back my fingernails."
Sure enough, she had nearly pulled off the perfect crime and walked off, per my own instruction, with my fingernails.
Now...what was my darling three-year-old daughter going to do with my fingernail clippings?
