Friday, April 17, 2015
Wednesday, April 15, 2015
Jr. High - Brought to you by Mean Girls
This week my kids in health class are learning about sex and puberty, can you say "AWKWARD!"
Yes girls are obsessed at this age about their weight :(
I'm happy to report that more kids are finding their own style!
The cool words we had at that age, are null and void. "Whatever!"
"Awkward" is my daughters favorite word, and it's rubbing off on me
But at least it's better than some of the other colorful words kids use
Luckily there are more good little tweens/teens than bad
This lesson starts in Jr. High
It takes a special person to have the patience and humor to teach middle school!!!
To my daughter who hates going to school everyday,
I did my time, taught me a lot. I can save you a lot of heartache and headache if you listen to my insight. Some things may have change, but human nature tends to not. Too bad schools are cutting history out of the curriculum. History always repeats!
Tuesday, April 14, 2015
Fifty Shades of Gray... OH MY!
Loved
Hated
Protested
Secretly watched
Fact of the matter is people will read and watch movies, and always come away with their own opinions based on their own reality.
Some find it offensive to women based on their values.
Some loved the love story of a broken man, and a women who wants love not just a lifestyle.
Some book and or film connoisseurs (snobs) want to show how horrible they find the film / writing product.
Some BDSM lovers wish to set the record straight this is not what their lifestyle entails.
Some horny women who are sick of their stale vanilla sex life want to fantasize about a dominate billionaire who will take them over their knee.
But I think most just wanted to see what they hype and protest was all about. Curiosity killed the cat? Guess we'll have to wait to see what future events will be blamed on this movie.
My take on all this is that if you want to change the world, save souls, or are one of the many sick of people trying to force it down your throat. Try perceiving the world through the lens that colors their world first."Delicious," He murmurs, licking his lips. "Amazing how good plain old vanilla can taste."
Oh the irony of it all! :) (Inside joke)
Thursday, April 9, 2015
Tuesday, April 7, 2015
Under the Bridge
A place belongs forever to whoever claims it hardest, remembers it most obsessively, wrenches it from itself, shapes it, renders it, loves it so radically that he remakes it in his own image.
– Joan Didion
I cannot visualize my memories very well, but I do remember the feelings they invoked. The solitude and peace I felt under that bridge. The reprieve from my exhausting efforts to fit in. A place I shared only with true friends.
As a kid there aren't many places you can go to just be. However each time my life was turned upside down by a move, the first thing I'd do was find a place to call my own. Atop of a cinder block wall, an abandoned fort, atop of a parking garage, but my absolute favorite was under a bridge.
Retreating everyday to my spot, I'd climb the hill up to the top where there was just enough room for a small person like me to stand. I loved when there was a lull of cars atop, then suddenly you could hear and feel the thunder above. I used to think if there was an earthquake I'd be the first to go, but at that time I didn't care. I'd sit and wait for my friend to arrive, she knew where I'd be. It was cold and dim, a prefect place to sit and sulk a while. My mind free to wander and ponder life's deep meaning. Throwing a rock watching it tumble down the hill, I'd think of my space and time. Why I was there in that moment, what impact my self had on the world. Wakened from my somber solitude, I'd hear her bubbly presence, laughing as she'd run up the hill with confidence and style. We'd spend hours complaining and laughing about our day at different schools. More teens would sometimes show up to find out what mischief was in store. We were misfit toys, the after school breakfast club, there to add colorful injustice quotes marking the cement walls. We knew our place in the world, it was there under that bridge.
Carl von Clausewitz
– Joan Didion
I cannot visualize my memories very well, but I do remember the feelings they invoked. The solitude and peace I felt under that bridge. The reprieve from my exhausting efforts to fit in. A place I shared only with true friends.
As a kid there aren't many places you can go to just be. However each time my life was turned upside down by a move, the first thing I'd do was find a place to call my own. Atop of a cinder block wall, an abandoned fort, atop of a parking garage, but my absolute favorite was under a bridge.
Retreating everyday to my spot, I'd climb the hill up to the top where there was just enough room for a small person like me to stand. I loved when there was a lull of cars atop, then suddenly you could hear and feel the thunder above. I used to think if there was an earthquake I'd be the first to go, but at that time I didn't care. I'd sit and wait for my friend to arrive, she knew where I'd be. It was cold and dim, a prefect place to sit and sulk a while. My mind free to wander and ponder life's deep meaning. Throwing a rock watching it tumble down the hill, I'd think of my space and time. Why I was there in that moment, what impact my self had on the world. Wakened from my somber solitude, I'd hear her bubbly presence, laughing as she'd run up the hill with confidence and style. We'd spend hours complaining and laughing about our day at different schools. More teens would sometimes show up to find out what mischief was in store. We were misfit toys, the after school breakfast club, there to add colorful injustice quotes marking the cement walls. We knew our place in the world, it was there under that bridge.
Carl von Clausewitz
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)