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I Spy [04 Mar 2006|01:59am]
I saw Fat Mike's naughty parts...

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Personals Ad [20 Feb 2006|10:50pm]
"I like long walks off of short piers and candle lit arson threats." - Lis

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Quotable [23 Jan 2006|09:02pm]
[ mood | amused ]

"Nothing's hotter than a gambler and a guy who didn't go to high school gettin' it on" - Lis

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Realization [02 Jan 2006|10:21pm]
I could never be on a reality show that focused on any kind of competition because my family would never make and sport cutesy t-shirts like "Marcy Rocks!" or "Team Marcy!"...

Sad but true.
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Slacka-demic [22 Dec 2005|07:14pm]
[ mood | cynical ]

"Be ashamed to die until you have won some victory for humanity." - Horace Mann

As I sit bleary eyed in front of my computer screen, attempting to write a tidy, yet impressive, 1,000 word summation of my life and times, I am reminded of the aforementioned Mann quote. And then, subsequently, reminded that I am screwed.

First some context.

I suppose it's only right that a Graduate School essay be hard. A little intellectual curve-ball right out of the gate to set the tone for your next two years and weed out those easily spooked by a little cognitive strain. But there is a difference between challenging and unreasonable, and BU is tilting towards the latter.

Write a narrative about your life. This should include information about your accomplishments, family, education experience, and outside activities. Be creative rather than philosophical. Remember you are writing for a reader who knows nothing about you or your background.

Well...damn. As an English major I have grown amazingly dependent on focus of thesis. My papers have connections, overarching themes, and most of all, a uniform point. But what the fine (if not devious) people at BU admissions are asking me to do is scatter-shot my essay - Something I paid a large tuition bill to learn how not to do.

It doesn't help matters that it's an essay on my life, which is about as exciting as
calculating a Fibonacci series (as in NOT at ALL). Right now my bio reads as such:

I was born at a young age and will presumably die at an older. In the middle I did some stuff, most of which is not noteworthy. Except, of course, for the time I met Whoopi Goldberg and high-fived her. In conclusion, buy American.

Hardly edge-of-you-seat material. I've got no monkey on my back. Fought zero odds. My arsenal of anecdotes - which is fine for parties - hardly rates on the collegiate-scale. I'm actually tempted to take up a vice, simply so I can overcome it.

So if anyone has any advice or ideas, or is willing to threaten my life and livelihood in some way (like with, say, a bat) so that I can turn it into an epic tale of bravery and ingenuity - aid away.

In the meantime, I'll just be taking inventory of my hum drum life.


Better than a quaalude.

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Target: Epicenter of White Supremacy? [20 Dec 2005|06:47pm]
[ mood | curious ]

I hung out with Zim today - we went to the mall to finish X-mas shopping and then went to see Walk the Line (which I highly reccomend). But I wouldn't be updating this here Livejournal if something random and jarring hadn't happened. It went as such:

Zim and I were walking around the Target, browsing the kitchen appliance aisle as I regaled her with the story of my brother's car accident the night before - the 3rd in the past two years. So, I'm going on and on about how he claimed it was black ice - just like the last two - and how my dad thinks that it must have been something more or he has the worst luck with black ice in the world (of automotive vehicles). So my narrative comes to a close, and I pick up a can opener and idly wonder if it would be a good stocking stuffer for my mom.

And then, a woman walks up to us.

Woman: Oh my God. I was listening to your story and I finally figured out what you said!
Me: Umm, huh?
Woman: I thought you were ranting on and on about black guys!
Me: Uh...no. Black ICE.
Woman: I know that now! But I was just standing over there thinking, "God! Lighten up about the black guys!". I'm from California.
Me: *awkward laugh* (Inner monologue: Why is she telling me she's from California? Is she implying that she's not used to racism because she's from a progressive state? But this is Massachusetts, not Kentucky. Is she suggesting that I have a thick accent? Because I really don't. Maybe she's contending that, being from California, she's never encountered black ice. Well that would only be true if she were from a southern most part....)
Woman: Yeah. Can you believe it?
Me (turning to Zim): Great! Now people at the Target think I'm a racist!

Here's what perplexes me most about this encounter. It's not so much that if the woman had really been listening to my story, she would have understood that in context "black guys" made no sense. My brother keeps hitting patches of black guys? No. The real puzzler was why she felt the need to inform me of her great discovery. Why she would be compelled to run over and tell me that she had finally Nancy Drew'd the clues, deciphered my (allegedy) thick accent, and come to the relieving conclusion that I was, in fact, not a member of the Klan.

Part of me also wonders what would have happened if she hadn't made that deductive leap. Would she have asked me to step outside? Called the NAACP on my ass? Gone home and cautioned the citizens of California about the evils lurking under the polite veneer of Massachusetts ("They say they're a blue state, but they're necks are all red!")?

It makes you think...

Incidentally, I probably could have taken her.

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We Be Literati [18 Dec 2005|01:13pm]
[ mood | cheerful ]

Where's my Chris Kringle
And where are you on Christmas night
And most of all
Where the fuck are my presents?
- Letters to Cleo

Lis had her annual X-mas bash last night. Fun and paperbacks were had by all (except those lame-o's who opted out of the book swap portion of the evening - I'm looking at you, Sara.)

I've got 90% of my X-Mas shopping done - Friday was spent braving the holiday hustle and bustle to pick up some gifts at the mall. On a quasi-related note, what is it about Christmas-time that makes me want to steal? I mean, normally I am a law abiding citizen - 335 days of the year I harbor no inclination towards theft (Shoplifting is hardly a victimless crime - resulting in cost inflation). But there is something about tinsel and Bing Crosby pumped in stereo that makes stuffing things in my pockets such an attractive prospect. Maybe it's the fact that I'm flat broke. Maybe it's because I don't need to be a psychic to foresee credit card debt in my future. Maybe it's my eternal quest to 'stick it to the man'.

For the record, I've never stolen. But Christmas makes me feel like an AA member in a giant liquor cabinet.

Oh well. I'll just sit back, watch a little True Life, and sip my eggnog.

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[10 Dec 2005|01:34am]

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Shark Attack [27 Nov 2005|11:08pm]
[ mood | nostalgic ]

"Everytime an old couple grinds, an angel gets its wings" - Me
"The true meaning of Christmas" - Kara

God bless Thanksgiving vacation. The Essex crew was all back in town (or, rather, the tri-city area) so the moonsharks reunited for some Gloucester bar fun. I picked up Lea and we met up with Kara, Linds and Jessie and hit the Blackburn. The rest of the clientele had a good 10 years on us, and the house band had designs on our eardrums, so we split for Jalepeno's where we were joined by Zim and Lis. From there we walked a frigid couple of blocks, courtesy of the cold snap, down to Cameron's.

Specifics are a blur, but one point stands out. Life is always better when the sharkies are together. With our powers combined, good times are had by all. It's kind of like the Planeteers without the mystical rings. Maybe we should look into those...


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Desperate Housepainters [20 Nov 2005|11:39am]
[ mood | thoughtful ]

I think my four years of higher education are slowly being eradicated by paint thinner. Customers' penchant for oil based paints and poor ventilation have conspired to make me a total headcase. Luckily the other day Lis and I were on spackle duty - and while tedious -it affords a nice break from the "hallucinations". In related news, Alyssa still can't hear the word 'caulk' without losing her shit.

I have a week left with one of my tutoring students. Apparently we had been spending a ton of time on expanded form when we should have been concentrating on division. Now to play uber-catch up, I have to work the day before Thanksgiving and the day after. Dag yo.

So my Scamper CD came in the mail yesterday. They were on FNX the other night - I called in, chatted with the band, and they sent me an autographed CD. They also included a little note. Awww - I heart you, Scamper.

Looking forward to Monday and the Leslie and the Ly's concert. If only I owned a gem sweater...

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Bos-un-Worth-y [10 Nov 2005|05:36pm]

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Silver and Goldberg [02 Oct 2005|01:55am]
[ mood | pleased ]

"If you don't have eyebrows, then what do you arch when incredulous?" - Me

Ok - so 'twas Lis' birthday today (HAPPPY BIRTHDAY LIS!!!) and we all (Me, Laura, Lea, Lee, Lis, Meg, Linds, Jess, et al) did a Gloucester bar crawl. We hit the Blackburn - where Meg gets a call from her friend saying to get down to Captain Carlos - Whoopi Goldberg is there and she's gonna sing a set (Author's note: Whoopi had just purchased a few pieces of Meg's art that week - so Meg's got all sorts of connections.). So we get down there and Whoopi goes up and sings her medley - some Proud Mary, some Susie Q --- most of which she didn't know the words so she made up her own humorous lyrics about menopause and memory loss.

So we go to leave, and she's outside and the bouncer strikes up a convo with Alyssa. So clearly, I sieze the moment- I'm all 'Whoopi, you rocked it' and raise my hand -- which she slaps and clasps.

Later Lindsay would sidle up beside me and say, "You totally just high fived Whoopi Goldberg"

So we hit the Old Timers next - which was skantastic as expected.

All in all a good night.

Also - Saw Serenity last night --- very, very good. Stinging a bit from the Mal/Inara plotline that was sacrificed for time. But I'm learning to cope.

Oh, and I realize my DC/Virginia trip summary is long over due -- It'll be my next post, I swear.

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American Idolatry Part 2: Attack of the Idolaters [03 Sep 2005|09:57am]
[ mood | good ]

"In what kind of sick, sad world does Gold Shoes get the boot and Rainbow Brite make it through?" - Me
"The worst kind." - My New Idol Friend

Ok, I've been totally slackertastic when it comes to this update -- but it's been a long couple of days and I needed to collect my thoughts (read: drink heavily). With that said, let the craziness ensue!

So Andria and I left for Idol auditions (part deux) at around 4am on Wednesday. We made good time (not getting lost really helps) and had plopped ourselves in the admittance line by around 5:30. The boy in front of us asked to switch places with a man in line so that the bottom of his jeans wouldn't get wet - and I knew it was going to be a good day.

When you entered Gillette Stadium proper - it was like everything you ever imagined the Idol would be. You had people who had cornered off little nooks and/or crannies of the main drag and were doing those obnoxious Christina Aguelera-esque runs. You had what I referred to as "RAS" - Random Acts of Song - where you would be walking and suddenly a group would form and start bustin' out some Destiny's Child. You had people decked to the 10's (that's right - they were WAY past the 9's) - there was one girl who walked by in black capris, a white tuxedo shirt and suspenders, aviator glasses, a gold tie and these crazy high gold stilettos --- she was like a beacon. She walked around with this dude who was one of those hip-hopish oversized leisure suits. I came to refer to her as "Gold Shoes" and she became an obsession point for me, and later for whoever was sitting around me.

And SPEAKING of obsession - I had a little Idol crush on this kid with a mop of sandy brown hair and a tweed jacket with leather elbow patches. He was in our section and provided my with countless hours of swooning-material.

The most popular style - which I began taking a mental tally of - was the high ponytail with the bangs flipped up in a cresting wave and pinned directly on top of the head. By days end, I had seen 35.

But then, of course, there were the crazies. There was Mullet Girl - who was part albino, part 80's hair band member, with a touch of Goth to really peak in the creepiness factor. There was Rainbow Brite -- the spindly little blond who was wearing a silk rainbow pants suit, that flared at the bottom - hand to God, I shit you not - she made it to the next round.

Ok, so as much as a knew American Idol was more production than reality, I never was quite aware of the extreme level of artifice that was actually involved. After we were all ushered to our seats there was a section of people missing. So they took, like, 45 minutes shifting us all over to fill the spot. Then (because THEY thought it was funny/clever) they had us all open our umbrellas, do some twirl-tastic choreography, and sing "Singing in the Rain." ... 13 year old girls do NOT know the words to Singing in the Rain. We had to do 6 takes. AND when it ACTUALLY started to rain, they forced us to all shut our umbrellas to begin the shot again.

We did end up sitting with some pretty cool people though - the same one's that deliberately tried to funnel rain our way before - Chris, Morgan, and Dan. I sat next to Dan and he spent, literally, 75% of the time clocked at the Idol quoting the Family Guy. Just randomly. Then, like 1/2 through, he leans in and asks "Do you watch the Family Guy?" Anyway - they were cool and acerbic and aided in the mocking that had to go down. The three of them heckled this group of girls that sang "Killing Me Softly" (Note: They ALL sing 'Killing Me Softly" - it made up a good 40% of RASs)a few rows down. We all cheered when some kid dressed like Gwar (with spiky body armor and all) made it through. We mused about a spin-off called 'American Lawyer' where you got to sue "American Idol" and it was all hashed out on "The People's Court" -- When reality shows collide.

My favorite moment of the day was when some kid three rows down stood up and sang John Secada for some people, and when he was done Dan sings "Magic One O Six Point Seeeveeeeen" - - HIGHlarious. And the people directly in front of us loved it. They just spent the whole day listening to us make snarky remarks. But, hey, why not. We were WAY more entertaining than some of the, quote, "entertainers".

I was also once again mocked for my green bracelet status -- my mark of shame.

Ok -- I think I've covered most of the stuff, so I'll leave you with one final story. There was this girl sitting behind us - looked maybe 19 or so. Anyway - when our section left to sing, I was left behind with the rest of the green-band squad. So the guy she came with -- old, bearded, southern drawl -- strikes up a conversation with this other guy - old, not bearded, nondescript accent. So they're chatting and No Accent says that he hopes his daughter makes it through and she deserves it. So then Southern Drawl says that 19 year old chick's problem is that she has no confidence - and if you don't believe in yourself, no one else will. And that's why she didn't make the cut in the Washington DC round. So then No Accent says, "So your daughter has auditioned before?" And the Southern Accent goes - with accent a'blazin - "That's not my daughter, that's my girl."


People. The shit goes down at the Idol.

As if there was any doubt.

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American Idolatry Part I [30 Aug 2005|03:40pm]
[ mood | numb ]

"I should have stopped by my local tarpaulin store." - Me
"I don't think we have one of those..." - Random Girl

I'm running on 2 hours of sleep, kids, so bear with me.

I woke up at 2am this morning to set out for Foxboro with Andria for American Idol auditions. Before many of you raise an eyebrow, I was merely there in a 'moral support' capacity.

So we get lost - natch - and finally end up at Gillette Stadium at 6 to find a gimantic line. As we wait for any sort of forward motion - a rain of biblical proportions breaks loose ... and 'all hell' is hot on its heels. Andria and I were the picture of un-preparedness -- no raincoats, no umbrellas. By hour 2 we had serious 'Poncho Envy'. Somehow I managed to ALWAYS be in the hub of umbrella convergence - prime placement for the gallons of run-off that sluiced over them and onto ME. Luckily, I had been given a crappy paper fan featuring the cast of The OC, which I used as a makeshift tent for my purse.

Some people had found/stolen a tarp and made a little hut. Sadly, those around them (tightly packed, I might add, since we were being herded like chattle) got totally creamed by the pooling water - many innocent bystanders "got tarped" (as we came to call it).

The next 3 hours until we got to the head of the line (5 hours in all) were spent ducking rogue umbrellas and praying to Odin to strike me dead with his hot, white lightning bolts.

Due to crappy weather conditions, my people watching suffered. I did however see a few choice crazies -- like one girl who was wearing a Hanson shirt and a Kimono. Also, we may have seen the kid from Made - the one who went from geek to "playa".

So here's the deal with American Idol - as I discovered. You stand in line... for the line... to get you into line. It's a never-ending process. And you're packed so tightly (I had flash-backs of my Warped Tour Circle Pit Extravaganza) that you have no clue where you are in the Labyrinthine line -- you could be an hour away from your ticket or 3.

Finally we got up front and received our bracelets. I, as a guest, recieved a green -- which became my Scarlett Letter. As in; talentless. Only moms had these stupid green bracelets. I wore mine in shame.

Below is a photo of my snappy/shameful bracelet and my new super cool David Boreanaz commemorative Bones pen.

Image hosted by Photobucket.com

Tomorrow are the ACTUAL auditions -- I'll post an update as soon as I get back.

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Lions, and Tigers, and TT the Bears...Oh My [07 Aug 2005|05:59pm]
[ mood | curious ]

"Marcy's voice mail is Lois Lane's answering machine" - Lis
"Yeah, and my mom hates it. She's all 'If you're going to have clients calling your phone, I think it needs to be more professional'" - Marcy
"She just doesn't get it." - Lis
"I know! Who's more professional than Lois Lane??" - Marcy

Last night I went down to Sommerville for Sara Lea's party. Lis and I drove to JP to pick up the infamous Tycho (The 'pen' to Alyssa's 'company ink'), who lived in an awkward intersection that made parking - well - scary. We meandered our way through the labyrinthine Boston (Damn organic genesis) - I finally saw where TT the Bears is (right next to a guy in a sparkly silver shirt and high slit capris that showcased his business in the back - An unreliable reference point, I'm sure he's not a permanent fixture of the corner- but who knows?)

We got to the party to find that Laura had taken a vow of sobriety (with a 30 day expiration date). After 2 1/2 glasses of wine Sara was drunk off her ass. Alyssa played catch-up with the keg, and I nursed a Poland Springs.

By 1 am the party was 'jumpin' jumpin' - - I think Sara only knew about a 1/5 of the people there. So after her cell phone got kicked on the ground, she became convinced that people were stealing things from her home (because when you're drunk, and you're Sara Leaman, you make these leaps.)

Also, if you are Sara Leaman, you dislike when people pee in your bushes. If you are Sara Leaman, you're night has been one of many tight frowns.

Lis and Tycho took the longest walk in history - which turned out to be 12% walking , 88% macking down. He was convinced that she had 'set a trap' - and she had. But it was more involved than he had given her credit for, and he fell prey anyway.

Lis and I were driving home and at 2:30 am she pulled into a gas station to use the bathroom - she asked if I had to go, and I replied, "No. I'll just sit right here and fear for my life." 10 seconds later, Lis returned to the car at a brisk pace - an Oprah powerwalk if you will - claiming the gas attendent had given her what could only be described as a 'death stare'

I was in bed at 4.

I'm reading like a crazy person - asking for reccomendations left and right. It's week three of my book-o-thon and the tally is:

Ender's Game
I Am Legend
Make Love the Bruce Campbell Way
The Death and Life of Superman
The Time Traveler's Wife
On Bullshit
American Gods (my billionth time re-reading it. But it's my favorite book. Also the sequel comes out in a month and one can never be too prepared to play easter egg hunt with allusions)

After Lullaby, I'm on a bit of a Palahniuk kick, so I'm currently reading Diary.

I forgot how much I love "Searching For Bobby Fischer." That movie is amazing.

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Slacker-tastic [29 Jul 2005|09:40pm]
[ mood | nostalgic ]

"I suck...So hold it against me" - All

It's been a while since I updated - I'd like to foist culpability onto an uber-hectic schedule, but in reality laziness is to blame. Let me cliff notes the past couple of weeks for ya'll:

1. School ended. Very sad -- I really dig those kids. They were all amazingly cool.
2. Camp started. Speaking of kids I adore...
3. All the greats are back - Sexy chicken, Fufi, Jojo jr, et al. I have missed the Xanderisms - It's nice to have them back in my life. (Last weeks: "Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your golden cornrows")
4. Laura's birthday party. Good times at the Salem Brew Works.

And here we are.

I just finished watching the first two episodes of Neil Gaimen's "Neverwhere" miniseries which I picked up on DVD. I should have known that adoring the book, I would be set up for colossal let downs. I already feel miscasting abounds... But it's still fun in a campy sort of way. (And the closest I can get to the narrative since someone *cough* Nutage *cough* still has my book.)

I had just finished 'The TIme Traveler's Wife' (very good) and was itchin' for some new reads so I swung over to Borders and picked up Ender's Game, I Am Legend, and Lullaby. Consider me agog.

Sara T's about to give me a call, so I gotta jet. I'll try to get better with my updates.

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Cyrano De Bergerac...of Funk! [16 Jun 2005|07:59pm]
[ mood | distressed ]

So fifth grade week has proven eventful - The play was AMAZING - entertaining and chalk full of life lessons ("Walk don't run in the hallllwayyyyyyyy"). Today the parents put on a "tea" complete with linens and place settings, fresh fruit and scones - equal parts 'fancy' and 'schmancy'

We finally got to the infamous episode #9 of Voyage of the Mimi - with the hypothermia and naked snuggles for body heat. The class response? "Wha??" "EWWWWW" "ACK!" "AHHHH" "SQUEEE"

The bomb.

We got to watch the tape of the talent show - well, THEY did - I had to play warden to Luke and Spencer whose tom-foolery had gotten them booted from the festivities - but apparently Nora came on screen wearing gold pants and Giles yelled out "Thank you mama for making me gold pants!" I should have never played that song for him...

In other GP news, I had lunch with the fifth grade girls and we listened to the gold pants song and had a bit of a dance party. Things took a horrible turn when they wanted to show it to a teacher and forced me to stand behind her and perform the "moves" they were supposed to copy - I busted out some robot, a little freestyle flow, and a well timed karate chop.

Oh - Sara's party - right...

Nick and his GF came down at an awkward time - I picked up Zim, Tom and Jess - Lis had issues navigating the mean streets of beantown - Nick got pissed - our sad little car chain cracked the proverbial whip and we lost them - we ended up at Lea's 3 hours later

The party was fun. I learned of "She's All That" inspired plots and games called "Swoop or Swoop". I gave Kara a ride home and almost ran out of gas on a creepy unlit Ipswich road at 3am.

But despite my friends unanimous insistance that my hands were/are clean - I still bear the heavy burden that is CULPABILITY

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Smallville Alter-Ego [14 Jun 2005|08:55pm]
You scored as Lois Lane. You are Lois Lane! You can be stuck up and rude, but other then that, you are a good (and obnoxious) friend.


Lois Lane


Chloe Sullivan


Lana Lang


Pete Ross


Clark Kent


Martha Kent


Johnathan Kent


Lex Luthor


Lionel Luthor


Which Smallville character is your alter ego??
created with QuizFarm.com

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And Co-Starring as "Ms. Holland"... [02 Jun 2005|10:47pm]
[ mood | productive ]

So updates abound.

First of all, I have to play catch up with the break down for Laura's Memorial Day party (I promised Nutage a summary of events so vivid she would feel like she had been there...).

So I drove up with Lis and Jess - Thank God, because there is no way in hell I can navigate Sommerville by my lonesome.

The party was pretty jumpin' - Lea, Mike, Laura, Dave, and a bunch of associates. We cooked veggie burgers and prayed to the rain gods to hold the hell up until we were good 'n ready to go inside. They smote our asses (And Pam speculated that there might have, at one point, been a singular rain cloud dripping solely on me.) Sara feared for our safety, and at the first crack of thunder, ushered us all into the apartment.

Laura kept the alcohol coming - because thats the kind of hostess she is --- intimidating. Upon leaving I was a might tipsy (I hadn't had ALL that much to drink -- but lets face it, with a standard day-to-day moratorium on alcohol consumption, when I actually do drink it doesn't take all that much to booze me up)

Alyssa made inappropriate hand gestures that made us all laugh and a good time was had by one and all.

And come saturday night I hope to do it all again at Sara's party -- which will feature even MORE of our regulars (plus some ME imports...)

In other news I am now featured in the fifth grade play.

They have been practicing for weeks - It's apparently the crown jewel of fifth grade week. Anyway, it's about school, so some of the kids had roles as teachers (the two classroom teachers, reading teacher, and gym teacher). So apparently a bunch of the kids went up and argued that someone should be playing ME as well.

So Taylor pressed for the plum role, nabbing it and will now be portraying moi in the play.

This should prove interesting...

In other news I almost got to bust heads today in a high tension search and retrieval mission for certain neighbors who apparently are flight risks. Sadly Operation: Bring Krista Home went as smooth as can be and no blood was shed.

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Thank You Momma For Makin' Me Gold Pants... [29 May 2005|09:39pm]
[ mood | curious ]

"Holy Chickens!" - A young Ben Affleck ogling a large vat of peanut butter

So in science we are teaching a unit on - bum da da bnummm - Voyage of the Mimi!

I'm having so many 4th grade flashbacks I can hardly keep it together.

In other news, if you haven't been to this site - http://www.lesliehall.com/8-sweaters.html - go now.

Kara and I are gonna get our hands on some gem sweaters and rock the next Leslie and the Ly's concert in NYC. "Hey Beat Dazzler, gem me a sweater. Hey, Hocchie Mama, gold pants forever!"

The countdown to summer vacation is on: 18 days of molding (read: corrupting) the minds of America's youth left.

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