It Never Hurts to Ask

First, a little dose of humility:
Last Thursday, Pressly surprised me out of the blue with an iPhone 3G. I was surprised and more than a little touched. I was also quite enamored with my new phone. I found myself fondling it repeatedly on Friday any time I had a break from wrangling a class full of 5 year olds.

Friday night while I was at the football game to watch my youngest sister twirl, I was excited to show everyone some photos I had snapped with it. After showing it off a little, I put it back into my pocket and turned my head. About that time, Jaelan exclaimed, "Oh no!" and I looked just in time to see my phone fall. Jordan and her boyfriend graciously retrieved it for me. I was worried someone else would snatch it up before we could get to it. What I discovered next never even occured to me. The screen was shattered! Heartsick, I immediately called Pressly to tell him. I wanted to cry, but I was so upset and in the midst of many, many people I just couldn't.

I was just sick. Pressly suggested I go to the Apple store on Saturday and see if they would do anything at all. After hustling Aaron into the car (one badly stubbed toe and a walleyed fit later -- his toe, both of us may have been involved in the fit), I realized we were too late to make the appointment I had made with the Apple Geniuses. I decided we'd go ahead to the store and see if they could work me in, which they did! To my dismay, the only thing they would offer me was a replacement phone at the "promotional price" of $299. I calmly explained that I was not buying another phone for $299 and asked if there was anything else at all they could do. After going through the ranks, I ended up with the same answer. I really hoped they would offer to replace the screen for a reasonable price since, in my opinion, the fall should not have resulted in so much damage.

Still, the humility. I should not have taken such pride in a material possession.

I called Pressly to tell him the news and headed toward home. He had done some research and found a replacement screen for around $70 that he could replace himself.

It Never Hurts to Ask
This is a phrase my mom used to tell me all the time, but I've always had a problem practicing it. I have always felt like I am imposing if I ask for something outside of the norm or special consideration.

Once home from my fruitless trip the the Apple store, I posted my sad story on a message board for a group of friends who have been posting together on the internet for 10 years or so. One of my very wise virtual friends suggested I email Steve Jobs directly and tell him the story. She even provided an email address. I figured I didn't have anything to lose at that point, so Sunday night I sent an email to the address. It was pleasant and simply laid out the facts. Later that night, DH mentioned that he needed to order the screen and I half-jokingly told him not to bother because I had sent an email to Steve Jobs. He laughed at me and proceeded to order the screen.

By noon on Monday, I got a call from the general manager at the Apple store at NorthPark. She told me they were very sorry about my experience and that they want to replace my phone with a brand new one at no cost!! She then apologized that I'd need to come back to the store to facilitate the replacement. Hello? I'll spend some time and a little gasoline for that!

I hope I didn't come off as unappreciative on the phone because I think my reaction was a little flat. I was honestly in total shock and didn't know how to respond. That's not at all what I had in mind when I wrote in my email, "Is there anything Apple is willing to do for us?"

And since I closed my letter by telling Mr. Jobs that I would love to be able to tell friends and family how well Apple treated us when a freak accident caused unreasonable damage to my BRAND NEW phone (which incidentally, was our first Apple purchase ever):

APPLE ROCKS!!!!

soooo Sick

I'll be MIA for a while longer because I am SICK. This is what I get for bragging to someone recently that I have never had a flu shot and never get the flu. Don't think it's the flu, but I'm not a good sickie. Oh, and spending 7 hours a day with kindergarteners probably doesn't help. Do you realize that those little buggers are, well, booger factories? Ew. I have a funny story about subbing Kindergarten last Friday that I'll maybe write about when I feel better.


TTFN

I Spy

I see you, there, in that minivan. Yes, you. I saw you buying that 6-pack of chilled Natural Light at 7:15 this morning, too. Don't fool yourself - that Trident you bought won't erase the stench that was already on you... Stiffler's mom, you're going to have to change your wardrobe before you become a teacher. You're 40 and pretty, but your daughters must be embarrassed when you show up looking like that at Open House... Aspiring poet, you are not as fabulous as you think. You really should come to class, and quit prowling around Facebook when you are here because if you get busted, you'll screw it up for all of us who use our laptops for legitimate reasons... Trip-trop, trip-trop, who's that on my bridge? It is WAY too early in the day for your feet to be hurting that much. Maybe your too-cute boots weren't the best choice for traipsing all over campus today?...

Redemption!

Got my second paper back from my Writing and Literary Analysis class today.

My professor spent the entire class reading examples of people's papers and showing examples of secondary sources and credentials. He put up my paper to exemplify what I think is gross overstatement of the paper's topic (it is, however, how he wants us to write, so it was a good example). He also showed one of my source credentials and a copy of a Peanuts comic strip I included to clarify an allusion that one of my secondary sources made.

It was quite enlightening to see my paper displayed on that huge screen at the front of class because there were several typos (which he does not count off for!) Given the number of times that I edited and re-printed that paper, I thought it was perfect. Oops.

The last time he returned papers, I was excitedly confident that my writing was so good it would exempt me from any further assignments. Seriously - I half expected him to write "You have nothing more to learn! A++ for the class." (Narcissistic much?) This time, I sat in anguish waiting to see what the grade was. I kept running through my mind the things he said people didn't get right, and trying to remember what I had done on my paper. And remembering that we have only 3 or 4 grades for the whole semester and if I didn't make an A on this one, I could probably forget making an A in the class.

Anyway, in his rambling, I also learned that if you quote the Bible, he doesn't want it written as an actual quote, and he says the Bible doesn't belong on the Works Cited page, even though MLA standards say it does belong.

He said there were lots of people whose grades suffered because they still aren't following his prescribed formula. *Whew,* am I glad I caught on quickly!*

Last Page Comments: Good Job! A

*yay*

My First Substitute Assignment

Sooo.... I was really excited to get on the sub list in our school district. Everyone I've talked to says it's really tough to get a job in KISD, and I believe it, given the number of applications I've submitted over the last year+ for different positions in the district with absolutely no response. I've been told that they really like to hire off the sub list, and if I have a good track record once I graduate, I'll be more likely to get a teaching job in the district.

Last Friday was my first sub assignment. Aaron's friend's mom is the secretary at the Early Childhood Center (Pre-K and Kindergarten) and is in charge of calling subs. I asked her to call me anytime and she called right away! I subbed for the art teacher, and thought it would be a really fun day, if a little stressful because it was my first ever sub assignment. I was secretly relieved that my first experience would be with the little ones instead of the High School or Jr. High.

Oh my, what an education *I* got!

I learned:

-Never, ever, under any circumstances wear a distracting or otherwise interesting shirt when subbing with the under-6 set. I wore a scoop neck 3/4 sleeve shirt that was printed with a cityscape and accented with sequins and beads. D-I-S-T-R-A-C-T-I-O-N!

-It's not a good idea to pause the movie to try to get the kiddos to calm down when they are being too noisy. Apparently, it's a sign for them to get up, play with one another's hair, dance, sing, spin around, etc.

-Late afternoon is a time when various kiddos may or may not need to be medicated or re-medicated, even though their pediatrician may not necessarily think so. Or maybe they need to have had less sugar at lunch. Or a nap. If you try to make a special consideration for one of these kids, to keep them from disrupting the class, the other kids will not appreciate being "left out."

-A LOT of what I've learned in school this semester sounds really fantastic, but just does not work in the real-world. Seriously. Too bad we don't live in an ideal society with ideally behaved kids and ideal situations, because a lot of the stuff my education profs have said really made sense.

-Sometimes you have to raise your voice to get Kindergarteners to line up in a straight line with their hands behind their backs and a bubble in their mouths.

Fun, eh?

Seriously, I did enjoy the day and am looking forward (with maybe a teensy bit of trepidation) to subbing at the High School on Wednesday.

:D

Hey Mom, if you were...

I picked Aaron up from tutoring this afternoon, as I do every Tuesday and Thursday. He was in a pretty good mood. Most days this isn't the case because he *HATES* to go to tutoring. He doesn't really need the extra help and would much rather he were allowed to run about the school like a wild Indian instead of doing homework and reading. But it's a great solution for our Tuesday/Thursday after-school care needs -- At $5 per day, it beats the heck outta $65/week for him to go to daycare for those two days.

He was particularly bubbly and chatty, telling me about the make-believe game of Kirby baseball he and two friends made up and played at recess.


Aaron was really proud of his contribution to the game: He decided that he would have "infinite poison balls," his friend Chaz would have "infinite tornado balls" and his friend Brandon would have "infinite icicle balls." Now before you start giggling uncontrollably, there is no anatomical reference here. These are like baseballs, except they pack quite a (makebelieve) wallop and apparently the goal of THIS (fantasy) game is to pelt your opponents with your special (pretend) power balls in order to put them out of commission, which is admittedly nothing like the actual game of Baseball. This, my friends, is the sort of thing you get when three very intelligent 3rd grade boys get together to make up games on the playground.

Aaron has always had a very VERY active imagination and I'll confess that he has been known to exasperate me. A lot. Because he wants everyone to be as excited and involved in his fantasy as he is, and some days I just don't.have.the.energy.

So while we drove along, he chattered on and I nodded my head and interjected the occasional "Oh really?" or "Wow!" hoping that I seemed interested. We were almost home and he had been busily chatting about this mindless game for quite some time (7 minutes, 13 seconds) when he turned to me and said, "Hey Mom?" And I thought "enough already!!", but sweetly said, "Yes?"

" -- if you were a millipede, would you have some sort of mechanism to tell you when a trap door spider was nearby?"

Well, I should hope so! But more importantly, if I were a millipede, I would be able to justify more shoes.

Money Makes the Monkey Dance

A few weeks ago, I had my first assignment due in my literary analysis & writing class. Since English and grammar are sort of my thing, I was really excited about the paper. I was lucky enough to have Sally Awalt as my English/Language Arts teacher in high school, not once but twice. She taught freshman English the year I entered high school, then moved to senior English the year I was a senior. She really pushed us on composition and literary analysis and it's something I enjoyed and did really well at. In the college classes I've taken before, I've honed my writing skills and gotten excellent feedback from professors. If there's one thing I know how to do, it's write an essay!

So our first assignment in ENGL 3308 was to analyze protest poetry written by feminists in the 1960's. I enjoyed the assignment, even though I don't really identify with the ideas in many of the poems we read. I threw myself into writing the paper and had it ready well before the due date. I even had it proofread by a friend who is a writer by trade. She had a few suggestions, but said the paper was great. I was excited to turn the paper in, and really amped the day we got the papers back. I couldn't wait to see all the accolades and compliments he was sure to have written! I couldn't wait to see the affirmation of my mad writing skillz and see all the ways in which I'd impressed my professor.

The day he returned our papers, the professor said there were 9 A's in the class. He said, "They don't call me Dr. A for nothing!" In a class of 23, with 9 A's, I was feeling very confident. For the next hour, he stood at the front talking about good things people had done, things that needed improvement, etc. He read excerpts from some peoples' papers as examples. At the end of the class he returned our papers and I anxiously flipped through, noticed a few corrections he made and finally got to the final page where he had written:

"Develop your allusion more thoroughly. Very readable writing style." B+

WHAT!?!?!

I was really disappointed, to say the least. After getting over my initial reaction, I could see the things that kept me from making an A. It didn't matter that my paper was really well written because I didn't follow the formula he gave us. I thought I had to just make an allusion, not develop it. I thought the formula he had prescribed was a suggestion, but realized he meant for us to follow it exactly. I thought I could make statements based on general historical knowledge without prefacing it with "I think" or "It is my understanding" or "I believe." He dinged me for not citing sources for statements like "In the late 18th century blacks in America were regarded as being unintelligent and better suited to physical labor." So instead, I should have written "As I understand American history...." Whatev.

It's a very boring way of writing, not at all what I'd expect to do in an upper level university course, but as Pressly says, "money makes the monkey dance" so the paper I turned in yesterday was tedious to write, I found it boring in nature and there were several phrases that suffered from chronic overuse, but I'll be damned if he's going to penalize me for writing well this time! I even had him edit my rough draft on our prescribed "writing day" where we are excused from class to write or can come to class to get his input.

A Little Humor

One of the guys I used to work with sent me this in an email (thanks, Scott!) and I thought it was pretty funny, so I figured I'd share it. I suppose we have been able to remain optimistic since we know the markets are cyclical and we are young enough to just ride it out.

New Market Terms

BULL MARKET - A random market movement causing an investor to mistake himself for a financial genius.

BEAR MARKET - A 6 to 18 month period when the kids get no allowance, the wife gets no jewelry, and the husband gets no sex.

P/E RATIO - The percentage of investors wetting their pants as the market keeps crashing.

BROKER - What my broker has made me.

STANDARD & POOR - Your life in a nutshell.

CEO - chief embezzlement officer.

CFO - corporate fraud officer.

STOCK ANALYST - Idiot who just downgraded your stock.

STOCK SPLIT -- When your ex-wife and her lawyer split your assets equally between themselves.

MARKET CORRECTION - The day after you buy stocks.

CASH FLOW - The movement your money makes as it disappears down the toilet.

INSTITUTIONAL INVESTOR - Past year investor who's now locked up in a nuthouse.

MOMENTUM INVESTING - The fine art of buying high and selling low.

VALUE INVESTING - The art of buying low and selling lower.

'BUY, BUY' - A flight attendant making market recommendations as you step off the plane.

FINANCIAL PLANNER - A guy who actually remembers his wallet when he runs to the 7-11 for toilet paper and cigarettes.

CALL OPTION - Something people used to do with a telephone in ancient times before e-mail.

PROFIT - Religious guy who talks to God.

Random.

Old Dog, New Trick

Our dog Chelsae, who is 14 years old, has learned that if she scratches at the door I'll get up. She's been house trained as long as we've had her (about 12 years) and all that time, scratching the door = "I need to go out." It's taken ME a few weeks to realize that she has a new trick. Apparently she's not the only one around here who is getting older! I thought maybe she was just getting fickle in her old age. It all became clear the other day when she scratched, I got up and went to the door and instead of just backing away like she had done several times before, she walked into the kitchen started doing the Feed Me dance. Her bowl was empty. She gets a little panicky when her bowl is empty and more than just a little panicky when she sees us reaching all the way to the bottom of the dog food bag to fill her bowl.

Note: Feed Me dance = Chelsae sits up on her haunches waving both front paws at the human for whom she is dancing, then she jumps in a full circle, bounces a little, stands up on her haunches and starts all over again. If you don't respond fairly quickly, she adds sound effects, indicating that the situation is dire. It is important to note that she doesn't usually want to eat when she does the dance, nor is she hungry; she just needs the security of having kibble in her bowl.





Flying High

Pressly has been learning to fly his new model airplane and Aaron is taking quite an interest in it. He has his own RC helicopter that he's been flying while Pressly flies his plane.

I was focusing on his face and snapped this shot about a millisecond before the helicopter crashed into my camera. I didn't even see it coming, so the perspective here is accidental but pretty cool. We both got a good giggle out of the crash.


Notice: Shirt and shoes are optional, apparently.































I love this one!


This one was way off in the distance and the lighting was really bad Aaron's expression is priceless.

Yes, Yes... I KNOW

I am seriously delinquent in my blogging. (sorry, Jess!)

Obviously a lot has happened since my last post. Aaron started 3rd grade and seems to be doing really well! He's in a challenging class and involved in some enrichment programs that he loves.

I've also gone back to school to finish my teaching degree! I'm so excited. The semester is about 1/2 over and I am just so happy to be chasing this dream.

I'm still making jewelry, but right now I'm mostly doing custom work. I've done a couple of wedding orders and a few other things and am contemplating selling some of my stash because I really don't need all the stuff I've amassed. The tools will never go, though. I'm a total tool junkie. ;)

Aaron's first 3rd grade report card came home with him yesterday. His grades were great, and we're most proud of his "E" (for excellent) in conduct. More interesting, I think, is what's on the outside of the envelope. I was really tempted to send a snarky note back with the signed envelope, but since I hope to be employed at his school district in the not-too-far future, I decided that wasn't the best idea.

Do you see what I see?