The Frog and the Fly – Comic 2

I’ve been, yet again, letting my silly and cheesy creative juices flow. (Hey, it may be cheesy, but it’s fun. And who doesn’t like cheese? Seriously!)

I hope you enjoy!

The Frog and the Fly - Comic 2

A Comic? Oh yes!

So, I am home for a week (or more) with an illness that is incredibly annoying. I have lesions all over my body, my joints hurt like the dickens, and my feet, knees, hands, elbows, eyelids, and lips swell of their own accord. Every day it’s something different to tackle, and this COULD last up to three weeks. It’s a pain in the behind, but I have found one useless way to use up some of my free time.

I made a comic. Oh yes, I did. It’s completely cheesy, and I actually tried to pull it off on Photoshop and failed miserably, but… it’s done. The picture comes out a bit fuzzy, as I had to take it on my phone, but I hope you can at least read a little bit of it. If you have trouble reading one of the frames, let me know, and I’ll clarify it for you.

The Frog and the Fly - Comic 1

I hope you enjoy it! It was a little creative, rather than spending all of my time watching television. >.<

Edited To Add: Sammy and Hannah approve of the comic. My son read it very dramatically!

Edited Again To Add: I uploaded a more clear copy of the comic, so you can see it better. You can still make it bigger by clicking on it, though.
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On another note, I’m totally psyched about a podcast that should be recording VEEEEEEEEERRRRRRRRRRRYYYYY soon, if all works out. It’s a little project with a good friend, and that makes it even more exciting. Keep an eye out for news from myself or Jeppy!

OMG! Webcam…

Let’s see if this works. >.< Crossing my fingers…

Color Itchies

Let’s just say it – I love color. I am a 30+ woman who regularly walks around in florescent pinks, greens, and oranges. (Yes,  yes, I know. It is probably against some kind of law, but I like color!) Well, my tops can be those colors, my pants tend to be black, brown, or blue jeans. I’m boring on the bottom, I suppose.

Anyway! My blog, while colorful, is muted. It’s pretty, but it’s not bright. My palms are getting itchy – I want to be brighter! Well, not I want to be brighter. Green or pink skin might turn heads in a rather negative way. I want my blog to be brighter!

I have a couple options to add “brightness” to my domain. I can look through the other WordPress themes, of course, but that’s not really what I’m looking for. I want to be bright, but I also want to be me.

I have a friend willing to offer a hosting as long as I can provide a domain name – and that will give me more access to altering what it looks like. THAT is a true possibility there. I just need a domain name for that one – in time, in time. And affordable. And handy!

One that’s probably definitely not going to happen is paying the upgrade cost on this site. With money the way it is for… well, probably a whole lot of people, including me… I just can’t justify paying $30 for the sole purpose of adding color to my blog. >.< Even if I support multiple blogs off of this one (and yes, I am thinking of another one), I still can’t justify $30 just for color.

Well, so there it is, in a way. If you see the colors of this page change within the next few weeks or months, just know that I’m playing with things. Feel free to let me know if you like them, or hate them. (It looks as if I can change the background for free – I might have to start playing with that, too! Bubbles sound fun, what do you think?)

Do We Test Them Too Much?

I used to do my journal entries on paper before I started a BLOG. I did one recently, and thought I would share.

“Miss, were you old enough to….”

I’ll admit, I was asked a question that absolutely FLOORED me the other day. I don’t look very old – and I’m not very old. I tend not to wear makeup very often (I think it has to do with the fact that I have so much to do in the mornings, and I am just too lazy to wake up 15 minutes earlier to put it on), but I don’t think that makes me look older. It likely takes me the other way – I look more my age when I do wear it.

Despite all of this, I had a student ask me this last week:

“Miss, are you old enough to have attended the first ever pep rally?”

Uhm… OUCH! Granted, it’s a funny ouch, but ouch!

Perhaps these students just don’t realize how long pep rallies have been going on. My knee-jerk reaction was to laugh and ask him, “Geez, how old do you think I am?” To which one of my other students promptly replied, “You’re 21, Miss! Totally!” Which brought more laughter, and had me shaking my head.

But then it also makes me think back – what crazy things did I ask my teachers without even thinking? I didn’t actually attend middle school (well, I didn’t skip – I was home schooled), so I didn’t interact with teachers for those awkward years. In the high school I was in, we didn’t know many of our teachers really well. Just those who made themselves available to be known, which was few and far between. I can think of three in my entire high school time that I got to know really well, and this was in a very large high school. The small town gives the students an opportunity to know their teachers better simply because the classes are smaller, they see us everywhere, and they know exactly where we live. It’s not hard information to gather. Not only that, they usually have us for multiple years of school, rather than just one.

I don’t know. This question amused me. I think, come Monday, I’m going to have this student look up when the very first pep rally was, if that information is even available on the internet, as this incident occurred in my Technology class. I’m too scared to look it up myself – I don’t want to know how old I would have to be to have attended the first one. It’s an interesting little sideline to chase, though. Should be fun!

… I love being a teacher…

I Hit My Knees…

I now have students coming through my classrooms who don’t remember what happened on September 11, 2001. The majority of these children were between 1 and 3 when the tragedy struck our nation, and while they have been told about it every year that they have been in school, they have no recollection of where they were or what they were doing that day. Within the next year or two, I will have students who weren’t even alive on that day. My own children weren’t even alive that day.

I don’t know, truly, if it is a tragedy or a blessing to these children. A bit of both, I suppose.

It is a tragedy, because they do not know how the country truly solidified together on that day. You couldn’t tell now with the arguments between the political parties, but for a while after this horrifying attack, the country was truly unified. More unified than I had ever seen it before, and honestly, more unified than it has ever been since then. Republican or Democrat didn’t matter at that time. I find it discomforting that this country has stooped to arguing about everything, never coming to any kind of compromise, and throwing blame and mud at one another constantly. It’s never their fault, it’s always the other person’s fault! That’s not politics, that is war. It used to interest me, but anymore, I’m tired of the blame games and the name calling. I never identified myself with one political party or another, and am still a registered Independent, because I choose to judge someone on their own actions and words rather than what side they choose to settle with. I miss the times when the issues were actually the issues, and not just a way to blame one another for whatever they want to twist it to be that day.

It is also a blessing, though. To these children who are growing up without the memories of the terror, the screams, the news reports, the sight of people jumping from the buildings in an effort to save themselves despite the length of the fall, the shock… to them, this country is still “safe”. They do not remember a time when this country was attacked on its own soil. The murders and shootings that happen on a nearly daily basis in the larger cities, that is one thing, but an actual military attack on our soil - infiltrating our own systems to launch an attack in an attempt to truly set us off balance – they do not remember that. All they know is that getting a plane ticket and actually getting on a plane is a pain in the butt BECAUSE of what happened then with the heightened securities that have remained in place since that day.

On September 11, 2001, this country hit its knees. They prayed to God for support, for guidance, and for their loved ones. People cried out to God searching for hope and love. People screamed to God in anger, asking why this had to happen. People admitted his existence! Even if they were incredibly pissed off at Him.

Since then, there have been court cases where people have tried to remove “Under God” from our pledges, because they believe it violates their child’s right when they have to state the pledge in school, because they don’t believe in God. It didn’t matter, to them, that this country was created – and one of the rights created with it was religious freedom. It didn’t matter, to them, that our Congresses still start every session with a prayer, no matter the religion of the senators and representatives sitting within that room. (At least, the last I heard, they did.) It didn’t matter, to them, that this country was founded on the fact that they should be allowed not to believe if they didn’t want to, and they couldn’t be persecuted for it! Fact is, that child has the right not to say those two words when they recite that pledge, and there is nothing anyone can say about it. But… BUT…. removing it because they don’t believe puts their belief above everyone else’s, and that is a violation. Putting one person’s religious beliefs (or lack thereof) above everyone else’s is a violation, and that is something that was stated would never be allowed in this country. We allow the religions of the people who have openly attacked us on our own soil, why would we not allow the religions of those who founded this country?

There have also been people who have tried to remove any reference to God from our currency.

People have been called “stupid” for their political beliefs and religious beliefs. Is that acceptance and tolerance? No. It is an insult based on the fact that someone believes differently than they do – and I’m sorry, difference of opinion is not equivalent to stupidity.

(Yes, I have been called stupid for these things. Granted, it is not by people that I know or associate with anymore – and it has been a few years. Believe it or not, it was when I was in college. By the way, when called stupid for my beliefs, it didn’t make me feel stupid. It made me feel as if the person CALLING me stupid didn’t have the “tolerance” for others that they were, amusingly, preaching that people should have. Preaching tolerance in one breath, then calling me stupid for not agreeing with their beliefs in the next breath… is not tolerance.)

Well, I’ll state this for all to see and hear.

I’m not stupid – I have a genius level IQ. While I don’t hold a Doctorate degree, it isn’t because of lack of ability, it’s a lack of want. I’m perfectly content with my Bachelor’s Degree in Mathematics, and I’m perfectly content with my profession as a teacher. I may move on and go for a Master’s and Doctorate in time, but for now, I enjoy my job, and I enjoy working with the children. This is my tenth year teaching. I am a teacher because it is the profession I chose, not because I am incapable of doing anything else.

I’m not trash. My children are well behaved and are expected to treat everyone no matter their sex, race, or other affinity with respect, and are punished if they don’t. (Yes, they are punished if they don’t. I don’t find it funny when they disrespect someone, no matter who they are.)

I’m not wealthy. There are many paychecks when, after only paying the bills, we wonder how we’re going to make it until the next check. And it’s not because of frivolous purchases. I do realize that there are people in this country right now that cannot even afford to pay their bills – I’ve been there, too. When our children were born, my husband and I had to choose between feeding our children and paying our bills. We chose to feed our children, and our credit reports are still all messed up because of that decision. We do not regret the decision at all.

I do believe in God.  I don’t ridicule or insult people that don’t for their beliefs. I don’t call them stupid. I don’t get insulted when they crack a joke about people who believe. In fact, I have had some very interesting conversations with those who don’t believe – those who are willing enough to set aside insults and comebacks, and actually talk about why each of us believe the way we do. I don’t think any of us have ever changed our minds, but it is nice to have a mature, rational, and very interesting conversation about it. One where we don’t state who is right and who is wrong, but where we seek understanding in why we believe differently. How, though, can I claim to love people, if I turn around and insult them because they believe differently than I do? I can’t. So, I don’t.

I hit my knees on September 11, 2001. I hit my knees not because any of my family or friends died upon that day, but because our country was in turmoil and in pain. I hit my knees to pray for those being affected, that they would find a way to make it through until they could know the fate of their own family members. I hit my knees for those volunteers who went to search through the debris for survivors. I hit my knees for those who had to witness the deaths of thousands of people. I hit my knees for the children who were born on that day, and the families of those children. I hit my knees for the children watching the news reports, and not understanding any of what was going on. I hit my knees for the country as a whole.

I hit my knees on September 11, 2011. I hit my knees because there are still people suffering after what happened 10 years ago. I hit my knees because other people have been affected with other tragedies since then, and other losses. I hit my knees because there are still wars being fought, and hearts being broken. I hit my knees because there are children growing up in broken homes and being abused, and they need all the protection they can get. I hit my knees because even though my life isn’t in tragedy right now, others are. I hit my knees because other people are important to me, and I believe they need prayer and support… no matter who they are or what they believe. I hit my knees for the children who simply don’t understand why their parents still cry on this day, I pray that they will never be forced to understand why – that they will never have to face such a tragedy themselves.

I hit my knees because I remember. If you don’t, that is your choice, and I won’t ridicule you for it. If you look down upon me because I do, well, that is also your choice, and I’ll still love you. If you hit your knees, too, let me know. I’ll pray with you.

The Innocence of Children

Children, quite literally, crack me up. I have the opportunity to work with them on a daily basis, so I have something of a small bit of pity for those who don’t, because they don’t get to see their little sweet sides. This won’t be a long blog post, but I wanted to share a few things that happened this week.

The Haircut

I cut a good five or six inches off the bottom of my hair last weekend. This usually causes strange questions from people, to which I have a bit sarcastic answers. The answers, however, AREN’T meant to be believed! Too bad the kiddos don’t know that.

“Miss, did you cut your hair?”

“No, I just… well, I went to bed last night, and when I woke up, it had all fallen out!”

Another student whispers to her nearby friend – she’d overheard the conversation. “Oh my gosh. Is that really possible?”  Her voice was truly terrified – it sounded like she worried that it would soon happen to her!

The friend looked at her funny, laughed, then shaked her head. Nope! Can’t really happen.

This same day, another student looked at me, tilted his head one way, then the next, then back. “There’s something different about you,” he told me. He squinted, he even stood up and walked across the room to inspect me. “You’re wearing contacts!” he guessed loudly. I cleared my throat, tapped one of the lenses on my glasses, then shook my head. His shoulders drooped, and he marched back to his chair. Poor munchkin never figured it out!

Common Sense

I work in a very small district, and I am married to one of the other teachers. As such, we have the same last names. It just dawned on a student Friday after three weeks of school that we’re married, and he is in both of our classes. He explains this lapse in knowledge simply as, “Miss, I’m good at math and reading. Common sense? Not so much!” This was an 11 year old. Hehe. I’m glad he’s honest!

I love being a teacher…

Summer’s Winding Down… and Puzzle Agent

Summer’s Winding Down…

… and life will soon be speeding up.

I’m one of those “lucky” sorts who “have the summer off”… awesome for teachers! Really, summer is just a different kind of work, not less work. For me, summer consists of some World of Warcraft playing (admittedly – not work there – but I also play WoW during the school year), a lot of housework, spending time with the hubby, and taking care of the kiddos. Each year, I get a newfound respect for those mothers and fathers who stay home full time – I just don’t think I could do it! A month or two drives me batty, I couldn’t imagine years. And no, it’s not the kids part of it, it’s the staying home most of the time part. I didn’t teach summer school this year, so I had a month longer off than I normally do.

I enjoy working, and so I find myself excited about the upcoming school year. Both excited, and apprehensive.

During this summer, I’ve FINALLY gotten used to keeping the house picked up. Dishes are done regularly, you can see the floor in the living room (and it looks good), and I actually COMPLETELY emptied the laundry basket. More than once! All of this is incredibly exciting, as it is (honestly) something I have never been able to keep up for long in the past. And I’m worried I won’t be able to keep it up when the school year begins and I’m working all day again.

Now, granted, I do have 7 year olds, now. I know it sounds silly, but it helps! It doesn’t take them long, at all, to get their things out of the living room, which helps ME in the long run immensely. But again, during the school year they will have homework, gymnastics, and a million other things to do.

I think, if we do it right, we can utilize about half an hour to an hour on the weekends and just get the living room picked up. The kitchen – well, I do that when I cook, anyway, so I’m not worried about that one. Laundry will likely have to wait for the weekend. I’m just going to have to make myself do it. (I’m… not very good at making myself do things I don’t like. I admit it.) And I’m fortunate enough to have a wonderful, amazing, loving husband who helps with all of this, too.

Puzzle Agent

On a much more fun (and less boring) note, I had a blast with a game I bought on my iPhone! It was $4.99, so I almost didn’t get it, but I am glad I did. It’s called Puzzle Agent, and it reminds me a WHOLE lot of a game I used to have on my Nintendo DS – Professor Layton and the Curious Village. I wanted to solve the puzzles on it just because the story was constantly making me giggle – I loved it. The only issue I have is that I finished the game after about four hours play. Granted, I’m pretty decent at puzzles, and that might be why, but… I was disappointed when it was all done. I wasn’t disappointed at the price I paid – heck, I’d pay more for two movies that entertain me for just as long – I was disappointed that it was over! I may play it again, though… just to see the story line again. It made me giggle.

It is also a very, very good possibility that I will be buying Puzzle Agent 2 – but next month. And I will be hoping for a NEW Puzzle Agent soon after that.

Simple Pleasures

It’s amazing how used to some things we get, without even realizing it! We become “spoiled”, in a manner of speaking, and whenever a certain pleasure is taken away, we suffer quite a lot.

This last week, my family lived without air conditioning for five to six days. We live in Texas, so it is admittedly very hot, and we have had the added complication of humidity the last week, which is unusual for my area. Anything I did heated up the house – laundry, dishes, cook… I did the laundry and the dishes anyway, but picked up some things that could be microwaved for the cooking situation. (As for heating up the house, the stove was the worst, so I avoided it at all costs.)

It created other complications, as well. We have a little window unit in the living room, so I had the kids sleep in there one night, but the fact is that they wanted their own beds – so the next night they wanted to sleep in their own room. The window unit helps a little, but the poor thing was over-used when the overhead swamp cooler went out. To keep the living room somewhat cool, I had the little unit going, and two fans pointing opposite directions, to try and circulate the cool as much as possible before it dissipated.

When they moved back into their own room, my daughter ended up back in the living room after only an hour – she gets very sick when she gets hot. (We have even banned her from wearing footie pajamas, because she gets sick EVERY time. Poor child.)

When I finally called to get it fixed, it was for the kids, not for me. I was uncomfortable, but not so much that I couldn’t live. But man, how spoiled are we that we can’t survive without air conditioning! I can just hear some of the older people I know telling me, “When I was a kid, I walked to school up hill both ways… BAREFOOT in the SNOW!” (Luckily, they’re kidding, but still.)

Forgive me, but I have to think back to those who didn’t have it. Who didn’t have air conditioning to cool the house when they were cooking, who had to work in the sun every single day without sunscreen, who had to take very long trips just to get supplies, who had to cook with wood and fire. Or even those now who don’t have a home, especially with the way the economy is right now. I have had to choose between paying my bills and feeding my children, before – and I chose feeding my children. Luckily, we were able to pay the necessities, and the other bills just had to be set aside. But some people don’t even get to make THAT choice right now – they have nothing.

We are fortunate. We have a house, and food a-plenty, and entertainment, and jobs…

Sometimes I think it’s good to live without a luxury for a few days. Makes you appreciate it even more when it returns.

I’m sorry this isn’t one of my typical amusing entries. I’m just in a different sort of mood today, I suppose.