Racket

May 17th, 2012

I got my pie-hole looked at the other day. You know, scraped, flossed, buffed. My teeth look good, the dentist said, except for those chips and hairline cracks in my incisors and the divots in a handful of molars from my spectacular bruxercising.

I asked once again how much a mouthguard would be. A real one, not the $12 jobby I got at Target.

Five hundred bucks.

We’ve never checked with my insurance company whether they’d cover it because my dentist has always said it wouldn’t unless I have gum disease, but I ask him to send a “determination” this time anyway.

He was right. I got the letter. They’ll pay $0 toward a mouthguard for me.

I don’t get it. I’m actively grinding my teeth out of my head, and they won’t pay, but somebody with gingivitis gets half a thou. Maybe I should stop brushing and flossing, and in a year or two, I’ll get what I need.

Posted in First-World Problems | 3 Comments »

This Is Why Online Dating Is the Worst

May 15th, 2012

Posted in Datin' | 7 Comments »

Where I’m From

May 15th, 2012

The kids and I read and discussed “Where I’m From” by George Ella Lyon:

Where I’m From

I am from clothespins, 
from Clorox and carbon-tetrachloride. 
I am from the dirt under the back porch.
(Black, glistening, 
it tasted like beets.) 
I am from the forsythia bush
the Dutch elm
whose long-gone limbs I remember
as if they were my own.

I’m from fudge and eyeglasses, 
          from Imogene and Alafair. 
I’m from the know-it-alls
          and the pass-it-ons, 
from Perk up! and Pipe down! 
I’m from He restoreth my soul
          with a cottonball lamb
          and ten verses I can say myself.

I’m from Artemus and Billie’s Branch, 
fried corn and strong coffee. 
From the finger my grandfather lost 
          to the auger, 
the eye my father shut to keep his sight.

Under my bed was a dress box
spilling old pictures, 
a sift of lost faces
to drift beneath my dreams. 
I am from those moments–
snapped before I budded –
leaf-fall from the family tree.

And then I had them write their own Where I’m From poems. I got everything from the hilarious (Jamar)

I am from my Converses 
That I wear about every day for my fashion purposes 

to the alliterative (Daniel)

I am from the Wii,
From the wild.

to the sad

I am from the ramp leading up to my front door.

[Aaron is in a wheelchair.]

to the wise beyond her years (Kyrie)

I’m from notes being passed and looks being exchanged.
I am from a full shelf of books I no longer read,
Trophies that I cannot recall exactly how they were earned

to the nope, not quite (Emiré)

I love when it’s Christmas
The warm cookies and the snow mans in the snow
The nice red stockings
And we wake up to some nice merchandise

to the…really? “big shaped mirrors”? (Jaeden)

I am from the Shane Family
In my family we had tons of dogs
We had every breed and every kind of dog
In my backyard we have a 12-year old shed.
In my neighborhood we have a 20-year old house
My Family has hundreds of big shaped mirrors
We loved to do thanksgiving because we got to eat all
my ancestors’ food.

to the I can hear it as spoken word (Jeremy)

I am from religious ceremonies and holy matrimonies.
Through the grapevine I heard the whispering voices that weren’t supposed to be heard.
From baptism to the church choir.
I’m from better or worse or worse to better.
I’m from leatherheads with speed and agility.
The country to the city is my origins.
Dogs big to small.
70’s afro style to 21st century braids.
Scars and bruises and spankings and switches.

to the tries to ruin itself with a last-line cliché but can’t because it’s just too awesome (Raquayne)

to the Y-chromosomed (Yusuf has three brothers)

to the I don’t understand it, but I effing love it (Nelson).

I’m from all these kids, and some days, that’s a pretty cool thing.

Posted in Learnin' 'Em Kids | 10 Comments »

The Foster Chronicles: Tulip, Week 7

May 14th, 2012

If you’re new, here’s the beginning of the Tulip Chronicles.

Day 1

The previous day’s Feisty Fido class had been taught by an ex-Navy man with blue eyes and a lot of sun damage. He had worn a t-shirt with the sleeves cut off. Smiled and smoked and cursed for the whole class. He had told us to walk in small circles, essentially herding our dogs, and make short, sharp tugs on the leash to keep the dogs focused.

Tulip and I go out in the driveway and walk in circles. Tulip does well, though she doesn’t sit on command. I have to “tell her once and then make it happen”, like the guy’s assistant had told me to do.

I put her inside and bring Redford and Violet out. Violet goes first and is a goddamn champ. She tries to sniff around at first, but once she realizes there’s a new sheriff in town, she’s all business.

Guess who’s uh asshole. Redford. That punk wants to walk me, and I’m all, ‘Nuh-uh,’ and he’s all, ‘Yeah-huh.’ And I’m all, ‘NUH-UH,’ and he’s all, ‘Awww, man.’

Day 2

We walk in circles. Tulip still won’t sit on command when we’re training. (She will when we’re inside and/or when she knows I have a treat.) I keep making it happen.

It’s been four weeks! Tulip is off restriction from her heartworm shut-down. I throw the plastic monkey with the rope tail around the yard for her. She gallops and cavorts. It’s the picture of happiness.

Day 3

We walk in circles. Still not sitting.

Tulip and I are shut up in the spare room. She’s chewing on something. I’m playing Scramble on my iPhone. She paces once across the room and squats to pee on the floor! I go, “Nonononononono,” but she’s going. I run out to get paper towels, and she slips through the door behind me. “NONONONONONONO.” I shuffle dogs faster than a Three-Card Monti dealer in Washington Square. They’re all surprised as shit, so they have no time to get into it with each other.

I put Tulip outside for a potty break. I wish I knew why, once in a blue moon, she thinks it’s kosher to piss on the floor.

I have now had Tulip longer than I had Buffy. That seems crazy.

Day 4

We walk in circles. Still not sitting. But we go around the block, and she does well.

Day 5

Tulip does a pretty spot-on Wile E. Coyote impression.

Am I right, or am I right?

Day 6

We walk in circles. I’m getting frustrated with making the sitting happen.

Violet and Redford are doing well individually, so I we loop around the block together. It’s so much less frustrating that our usual walks, where my shoulders get regularly dislocated! I yike it!

Day 7

Tulip wakes me up whining. I think she’s just bored in the kennel, but when I take her out, she won’t eat her breakfast. Then the backwards gulp starts. I toss Redford and Violet into my room and flap Tulip to the kitchen door. She’s still uh-ggging, and it looks like she’s going to upchuck right there on the deck. I run outside and shoo her into the yard where she barfs. Then I slink back inside.

If Alfred happened to be looking out his window at 7:36am, then he got a hellified action shot of me in my underpants and camisole.

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Mike

May 13th, 2012

I met Mike on Thursday night at the same coffee shop where I met Lev. He’s a tech guy, originally from Cape Cod, who moved down here with the woman who eventually became his ex-wife. They’re on good terms. He took one of the cats; she took the other two.

I did not find him physically attractive, but I kept an open mind…

It was so boring.

The conversation was dry, and he may have smiled once the whole date. After 35 minutes of sitting there trying to conjure some sort of connection, I asked if he wanted to take a walk around the block. On the stroll, he told me that he had an estranged brother and that he hadn’t voted on Tuesday.

And that was pretty much it for me.

We walked to our cars, and he said, “If you want to hang out again, let me know.”

Half an hour later, I got an email:

So our departure was pretty lame on my part. I’m not really good at first “dates”. I had fun talking with you and walking the streets of Durham :P If you would like to have dinner next week sometime, I would like that. That is what I should’ve said, lol. Anyway… hope to hear from you :)

In the past, my policy has been to give everybody a second chance if they ask for it. But I just can’t. I can’t keep doing this to myself.

So now there’s

  • this_guy_NC, 34, from Cary, who has a dog but doesn’t know the difference between your and you’re;
  • callkirk, 39, from Durham, who wrote: Oddly enough I actually fit all your criteria for a jizz donor. Although we have no way of knowing right how if you find me hilarious. Decent chance of that but who knows. Seriously though, kids are awesome and I share your desire to have them. Also seriously, racks are way better without structural support. But he has no photo posted on his profile; and
  • a Little Person.

And others.

I have a date this afternoon with Chuck, 41, a shaved-bald former chef who looks cute and who posted some silly pictures of himself on his profile. I hate to say “Seems promising” because how has that worked out for me? But at least I’m slightly more excited about this one than the last two.

Posted in Datin' | 3 Comments »

I Am the Graest Teacher

May 10th, 2012

I got a card today for Teacher Appreciation Week from one of my kids. He said I was “the graest teacher”. Needless to say, sometimes I feel that way, but mostly I don’t.

I’ve written before about one of my favorite poetry lessons, in which we study “Ode to Pablo’s Tennis Shoes”, by Gary Soto, and then the kids write odes to their favorite things to wear.

And even though I explained to them that these were just guiding questions

[What color(s) is it? What texture does it have? What is it made of? Where did you get it? How do you feel when you wear it? What does it allow you to do? If it were an animal, what would it be? If it could talk, what would it say? Do you still have it? If so, where is it? If not, what happened to it? What do you love about it? What else do you want to say about it?],

and that they should use them to write a poem that celebrated their article of clothing, some of them just typed their answers into a blank document and called it an ode.

Take Maalik’s:

ODE TO MY BLAKE GRIFFIN ALL-STARS
 
They are black, red, silver and clear
 
They are made out of rubber plastic and flywire mesh
 
House of Hoops is were I got them
 
They are very comfortable
 
I jump high in them
 
If they were an animal they would be wolves
 
If they could talk they would say wear me!!!
 
I still wear them
 
They are in my room
 
My best pair of shoes
 
I love them so!

Or Emiré’s:

I Love My Yellow And Gray Hyperenforcers
 
The Texture Is Very Smooth
 
It’s Made Out Of Leather
 
I Got Them From Finish Line In South Point
 
I Feel Like A Real Baller, I Feel Good
 
I Play Basketball Comfortable Now
 
If It Was A Animal, It Will Be A Lizard
 
This is My ODE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

When I expounded on the “What does it allow you to do?” part (Does it make you speedy on the football field? Does it let you show your team spirit? Does it keep you warm? Does it make you feel lazy or pretty or confident or safe?), Yessie wrote, “My shoes allow me to have something on my feet.” And that’s what she wrote into her ode.

And it’s funny as shit to read but also makes it easy to feel like a bad teacher.

But then there’s Nadia’s (click for bigger):

And when I read that, I feel like the graest teacher in the world.

The truth is, of course, I’m neither bad, nor the greatest. Those kids are mostly going to do what they’re going to do, but I guess I’ll take the ups and downs. Because sometimes it’s nice to feel like the graest at something.

Posted in Learnin' 'Em Kids | 3 Comments »

Honey Ham Light Rain

May 8th, 2012

It’s poetry time, y’all. In one of our poetry lessons, we worked on using sensory images. I told the kids to choose their favorite season or holiday and think of what they see, hear, smell, touch, and taste during it.

Jesús:

Birthday
 
Cards and presents are everywhere
 
The aroma of cake ruins my air with delight
 
Hotdogs taste a little overcooked in my mouth
 
Money is in my hands while I dance funnily
 
How old are you says family and friends
 
Birthday

So, a couple things. “Ruins”. I do not think it means what you think it means. Also, the image of Jesús in the midst of his family, doing a crazy jig, fists full of cash—hahahahaha.

Domarion created some phenomenal imagery so I tried to work with him on appropriate line breaks. I failed. :(

FALL
 
Great big sun flowers people talking
 
Big tress the taste of pipe and
 
S’mores and a big juicy honey ham light rain
 
Kids yelling the smell of a camp fire seeing
 
Bird go from tree to empty tree I hear clam and
 
Pace leaves falling changing color
 
FALL

But worse than my teaching failure, he hears clams in trees? …Maybe he should stop smoking that pipe.


Posted in Learnin' 'Em Kids | 4 Comments »

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May 8th, 2012

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The Foster Chronicles: Tulip, Week 6

May 6th, 2012

Day 1

When I got Redford and Violet, I taught them to wait for their food. They must sit and wait until I say, “OK,” before they start to eat. I can walk ten feet away and they’ll just sit there waiting for me to give them the signal. And drool.

I practice with Tulip. I tell her to sit and start to put the food on the floor. She lunges at it.

I pick it up, tell her to sit, and bend down again. She hurls herself at it again.

Last time, same story, but as she’s bolting toward the bowl, I say, “OK,” so at least she’s hearing the signal.

Day 2

We try the food thing again. She works herself into a frenzy. I manage a quick “OK” as she catapults herself onto her breakfast.

Day 3

What am I doing wrong here? She will not wait for her food.

Nelly texts me to say her circumstances have changed and it doesn’t look like she’ll be able to adopt Tulip. :(

Day 4

I decide to create a website to help Tulip find a fur-ever home. I get as far as setting up a username.

Day 5

She waits a half second for her food!

Day 6

She does not wait a half second for her food.

I spend about eight hours making this tumblr blog. (Will you please share it on your Facebook and/or Twitter? And encourage your friends and/or followers to do the same?)

We go for a walk in the rain. Back at the house, I leave Tulip sitting on the deck step tied to the railing, as usual, so I can unleash Redford and Violet. This time, it takes a little longer than usual what with the drying off. When I go back out to get Tulip, I find she has flung herself over the railing onto the deck.

Day 7

Tulip’s out; Redford and Violet in. Redford starts agitating—grumbling and sprinting back and forth between the living room window and the kitchen door. I look out the door. Tulip is across the street sniffing around. Guess I can’t leave her on the deck by herself anymore.

I call her. She looks up but doesn’t come. I head back into the house to grab a treat and, by the time I reach the door, she’s sprinting back.

She’s really cute when she runs.

Tulip and I attend the first session of her Feisty Fido class. We both learn a lot. I think this is going to be good for us.

She waits a full one-Mississippi for her food. Woot!

Posted in Animules, First-World Problems | No Comments »

In Feelings

May 5th, 2012

Two different friends of mine are giddy in… well, I won’t say “in love” because it’s too soon for that. Maybe. Maybe they are in love? I don’t know. My girl Erin has a useful phrase: “in feelings”. They are at least in feelings with someone. The first friend met her match at the gym; the second on OKCupid. OK-FUCKING-CUPID. She’s on there for a month—a month—and she finds somebody.

I’ve been on that site since 2009.

And when I heard about these burgeoning love affairs, I was like, “GodDAMmit—I mean, yay! Happiness! For my friends! Who are in feelings!” But of course, behind that Kleenex-width veil of well-wishes is disappointment, jealousy, and a general feeling that there’s something fundamentally wrong with me.

The tangoing physicist is not for me. He’s lovely and smart, he seems really kind, and he says he can cook. I’m just not in feelings with him. After our first date, we met out a week ago at a social dance and then saw a play last night. I’ve given it a try.

So now I’m left with

ChicagoDan33: You seem really nice, I would really like to get to know you.

And I’m sorry, but if what you get from my profile is that I’m “really nice”, either you can’t read or you’re fucking delusional. I’m not really nice. I’m many, many awesome things, but I’m only sort of nice, and then only sometimes.

And

JohnBal3714: I love your write up. It’s hilarious…you’re very honest! I will follow your good example… 

I’m really, really bored and didn’t go out tonight because tomorrow is Cinco de Mayo and it’s going to be a hell of a party. I got bored, joined this little site, and did a search for “booty”. Haha. I’m an ass man, what can I say. So you’re the first person that came up, and you seem cool. 

You make it clear that you’re looking for a long-term thing and you want kids and all that. Since I don’t live near you, I can’t help you there! 

BUT… 

I have a lot of friends in the Raleigh/Durham area and I am a hell of a wingman. Like the greatest of all time. If you need a text buddy that’s not trying to hook up and can help you interpret the myriad bullshit lies that guys love to use…I’m your man. 

I get over to NC several times a year, so maybe eventually we’d get coffee or something. 

I know this whole thing is random and rambling, but I’m an excellent texter and a huge wise ass. You seem interesting and fun. I can never have too many interesting and fun people in my phone! 

By the way…the ghetto booty? It’s tremendously big and tremendously hot ;) Just sayin’.

Funny, fun, appreciative of my attributes, CUTE, but also a state away and probably not the greatest prospect for somebody with whom to grow old.

I just want to be in feelings with someone. Why is that so hard?

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