I Still Have It - A Scap of Toilet Paper

Do you have any worthless possessions? These are the items that have no value but mean something to you. As the title suggests, I have tucked away a plain scrap of toilet paper in one of my books. I'm sure you're asking what any logical person would ask: Why haven't you flushed it? Anyone who went to sleep-away camp as a kid, would understand this oddity.

Back in the days of no gray hair and a skinny life-filled body, I spent my summers at a camp in Zionsville, Indiana. Today they call it Gucci but in my days, it was UCI. This is a Jewish camp with month long sessions filled with fun and sports. We lived in packed cabins with a group of girls that we grew extremely close too. We also got to know the boys quite well when we'd flirt with them during our day activities.

Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end. For me, that was camp. The last night of camp, everyone stayed up all night crying and hugging because we didn't want to go back to our awful and abusive homes. Not really, but one would think that the way we boo hooed. Anyway, that last night of camp, I wailed with everyone else while carrying around my diminishing roll of toilet paper.

One of my friends grabbed my toilet paper and scribbled a message on it: Cheer up. We all love you. Simple, plain, to the point; and yes, I still have it.

Joy Oh Joy

Joy oh joy!

It's May, and the last day of school is closing in. Not that May is a picnic. Kids want summer to begin and their behavior shows it. However, I just heard that the world is going to end on Saturday. That would be a bummer because I wouldn't get my summer vacation, so the world can't end just yet.

As for summer plans, I haven't got any. I'll just enjoy sleeping late, writing, blogging, and maybe even sending out those queries. Eventually I'll clean my house. I may even remove the cobwebs from that stack of books waiting to be read. If I don't want to get dressed until noon, so be it.

I will also attend teacher sessions to get a jump on those required during the year. If any of them offer pay, I'm all over it.

Joy oh joy! It's my favorite time of year!

Kindergarten

I'd always heard that whatever one needs to survive in life, one learns in Kindergarten. If you haven't seen Kindergarten in a while, keep in mind that it's now the new first grades. These little tikes, who are barely out of diapers, are already writing complete stories and completing real math problems. Forget about identifying numbers--that was so preschool. With such a tough curriculum, I wonder how any kid could survive without the pre-school experience.

I remember a carefree kindergarten year with Miss Meyers. She was a loving older woman, who I was lucky enough to have right before she retired. I loved her dearly. Apparently she loved me too because at the end of the year, I found her pink crayon in my bag. I went to tell her about it, and she said, "Shhh. Don't tell anyone, but I gave it to you because you're my favorite." Okay, here I am forty-four years later blabbing about it, but this little act meant so much to baby me. It gave me the foundation and confidence to continue on in school for another seventeen years!

I have three children who have made it through Kindergarten and way beyond. When my youngest started Kindergarten she came across the misfortune of having spoken to Ross. He was a foolish young man who worked at our community center. After Erica enjoyed her first day of Kindergarten, Ross asked her if she cried. When she gave him a puzzled look and said, "No," he didn't stop. He told my child how she is supposed to cry on the first day of Kindergarten. Everyone cries. So needless to say, she started an epidemic up and down the hall on day two. The worst criers were the teachers' kids whose moms worked right there in the building. Thanks a lot, Ross! I thought about payback when his kiddos started Kindergarten but had grown up too much to have fun at his expense. Dag-gum-mit!

Lavatory Humor

This was my lame attempt at the letter P that got moved to L when I thought of something else. If you're not amused by bathroom humor, you may move along now.

A whach-ma-call-it

In case you're still here: When I was a little girl and we had to go to the bathroom, we went weewee; however, my husband's family went teetee. Weewee, teetee, peepee, piddle, piss, wiz, puddle, tinkle, pass water, void--for something private, we sure have a lot of words for it. Then there are the words for the action--take a piss, relieve oneself, go to the bathroom, or how about just . . . wait . . . urinate?

So, I wonder, why so many words for something so private? After all, it's no one's business when I use the can, toilet, john, potty, bathroom, lavatory, powder room, rest room, water closet--here we go again. A zillion words for eliminating waste. Don't even start me on the bowels.

 I guess it's time to end this post, flush, and get off the pot. ☺

Memphis in the News (Flood/Obama/Grizzlies)

Never seen boats this close

Power line under water?

As a humor blogger, do I dare write about something that is not even remotely funny? I write serious posts sometimes, so here one is.

I live in Memphis where the rivers' waters have swelled far beyond their normal limits. This has caused many problems for the poor flooded out victims who live close to the water's edge. Luckily, I do not reside near the river but have had the pleasure of visiting with our newest residents--the mosquitoes who have been actively breeding due to the vast amounts of sitting water in our area.

And for those who wonder, yes, that is a power line under the water. Luckily or wisely, the city has turned off the boxes to avoid an electrical tragedy.

Water up to wall

Sidewalk under water

A few nights ago, I ventured downtown to gawk at the river, as so many Memphians have done. My daughter snapped a few photos. It was particularly interesting to see the partially submerged signs warning motorists not to park in specific spots. If they parked there, they would be towed. I'd like to see the city try to tow any violators stupid enough to park under water.

In this last photo, a fish had washed on shore and met its doom. My husband stood above it and pretended to have caught the largest fish this non-fisherman had ever caught. It looked fresh, so I had to wonder if someone would take it home and slap it on a griddle. I guess the dead animal law would apply to fish too: you can only take the road kill home if you murdered it yourself.

 Although we've had some recent trouble in the city, we've also had some good news. One local high school, Booker T. Washington, had President Obama speak at their graduation ceremony yesterday. Seeing the excitement on the faces of these inner city youth, brought tears to my eyes. Okay, to tell it like it was, I boo hooed throughout the entire news broadcast.

Also, our Memphis Grizzlies just lost their seventh game of the series against Oklahoma. Unfortunately we didn't make history by being the first eighth seat to go to the final four, but we gave Oklahoma a scare. We also beat San Antonio, the first ranked team! Go Griz! The weepy players brightened up when they saw the cheering crowd waiting for the team at the airport.

So now as a city, we are more united than ever. Michael Mustgo from The Travel and Leisure site ran an article stating that Memphis has the ugliest and stupidest people in the country. Anyone who has the audacity to print an article classifying a group of strangers in such a negative manner must have an extremely ugly personality . . .  and be stupid too!

Nah, I Won't Do That (Laughter is the Best Medicine)

Since I messed up and posted my O before my P,  I figured I could do it again with the Laughter is the Best Medicine Blog Hop. I could have called this post, Monday Hop, Laughter is the Best Medicine, or anything else now that I've set the pattern of not knowing the alphabet backwards, but it's time for N so, Nah, I won't do that.

I'm supposed to make folks laugh by blogging jokes about myself, but there is nothing about me that anyone could ever make fun of. Let's face it, I have perfectly friendly hair that reaches out to greet anyone within a foot of me. I can take a lock, wrap it around a finger, and make a perfect curl. If I don't like the direction of the curl, I just flip it the other way. It bends and stays just like a pipe cleaner. But that's not all. My hair has the magical ability to change colors every few months. Not many can do that.

Even my skin is welcoming with friendly zits that come out to say "hello" right before a major event. Yes, I am the world's oldest teenager. I bet not many women pushing fifty can brag about acne! Did I say fifty? Uh, let's make that thirty.

This is my soul

But forget about my looks. The eyes are the windows to the soul, so let's see what my soul is about. In Sharon Creech's novel, "Walk Two Moons," the teacher asked the kids to draw a picture of their soul. Here is mine:

Need I say more. Now that you've seen my soul, you know that there is nothing funny about me. I am a totally serious teacher who is about to go crazy now that it's May and the kids have quit thinking because to them school is out. So what does your soul look like. Do you dare share??

Punishments

With all of the blogger outage mess, I messed up and posted my O piece first, so if you want to keep in this backwards order, scoot down one entry and that should be for today. You can pretend that I posted punishments yesterday, if that makes you happy. ☺ For those who don't care, here goes . . .

My husband and I were never ones to spank our children. Not to say we didn't punish them when they misbehaved, we just found better ways to discipline. Discipline doesn't need to leave kids angry or bitter, but rather to teach children right from wrong.

One of our most successful punishments worked well with our oldest two kids when they were very young. "Do what we say or we won't let you brush your teeth." The kids would scramble to obey because nothing was worse than a stinky mouth. Not only did we get them to mind us, but we changed their view of tooth brushing from something parents force their children to do to a privilege.

I remember another situation when our son was just a toddler.  I was struggling to load our large golden retriever into the back of our van. Daniel spun circles while I was distracted until a truck honked and nearly missed hitting him. Many parents would spank a child for going into the street, but in reality, whose fault is it? He was too young to understand his actions, and I needed to be more focused on him than the dog. If I needed to be angry with anyone, it should have been me. I let my instincts take over when I snatched that baby into my arms. Tears shot out of my eyes as I told him how scared I was at the thought of almost losing him because I love him so much. We locked in a hug for a long while, and that boy never ventured into the street again. Objective reached.

Finally, it would be nice to say that my children never fought with each other, but they did. Once they reached "our" limit of fighting, we sat them on the love seat until they learned how to love each other. We didn't need to punish them because they punished themselves more than we ever could have. To quote Bill Cosby, "Parents don't want fair, they want quiet."

Parents need to quit hitting their children and find quintessential punishments instead. I know I wouldn't do a better job at work, or any where else, if someone hit me whenever I messed up. What is the true message in spanking?

Oh, No. Not Again

I leave my Skype on in case my daughter who is over seas wants to chat; however, I repeatedly find odd messages from a Russian dating site. Yes, I'm of Russian decent, but I'm also married, female, and straight. No matter how many times I block these lonely hearts, they still find a way to send me bizarre messages like the one below.

Greetings dear! I'm not a deer, moose, or elk. I do respond to dear from some folks but usually they are people I'm intimate with or of the older generation.

I'm Marina. I live in Russian Federation. Having never met you, do I really care what your name is or where you live?
Do you know that the most attractive ladies in the world live in my country? That's true! Of course it is! My ancestors were from Russia, so I must be a most attractive lady. Thanks for the compliment.
I invite you to a very good international dating site where hundreds of lone I am searching forly hearts are looking for their future lovers. What makes this a good site? If it's that good, why are you trying to gain business from strangers who are totally out of this arena? Besides, what is a "lone I am searching forly hearts" mean? Does this person need a heart transplant. Ah! That's it. The woman is Russian and needs a heart from someone who is also of Russian decent. Sorry, lady. I'm heartless. And looking for future lovers? I already blogged about how I like my present one.
I dream about meeting a charming one I am searching for for longterm relations or even marriage. I'm charming! Thanks again, but keep keep searching. I'm married.

Are you the one I am searching for? ;) That's a H*&L No!

Quagmire - Move over Moonglompers!

Quagmire

Kurt Vonnegut introduced us to Diana Moon Glampers—the ugliest, stupidest, and meanest women on Earth—who often made cameo appearances in several of his novels. My favorite role of Diana’s was as the button pushing general who would scramble the thoughts of intelligent people by causing plane wreck noises in their ears. If you’ve never read Vonnegut’s short story, “Harrison Bergeron,” check it out.

Although Diana is mean, stupid and ugly, Quagmire beats her at being the most disgusting person known to fiction (giggity giggity goo). This Family Guy neighbor has a mind geared totally to sex and abusing woman.  I'd like to slap him then throw him in jail. Even his name means an awkward, complex, or hazardous situation. That's the man. He's the sort of moron that makes one thank the lord he's fiction and hope a real life creep like Quagmire stays out of one's neighborhood. Every thought he has is about sex. He will take the most benign situation and relate it to, you guessed it, sex. Gross. If you haven't met this fictional character, consider yourself blessed. If you haven't met a real life Quagmire, that's even better!

Running

After eating a disgusting glob of fat, calories, and carbs on Mother's Day, I need to get back to running. I'm a long time seasonal runner who takes up the sport when it's convenient or a group opportunity arrives. This usually happens in the summer and fall. This summer, I will once again start the Road Race Series. The event, that is filled with super jocks, begins in mid July with races every two weeks that get longer as we go.

"Fall" Running Photo

If all goes well and I've made it to every race, I'll drop out after the 10K. In order to get a cool prize, I must complete six races, and that is good enough for me. Unfortunately, life usually keeps me from completing my six races before they get too lengthy. Last year, I missed a race and had to run 10 "fun" miles. But fortunately, I only had to do that once. The rest of the athletes will do this twice and run the most boring half marathon course known to human kind. I did it once and swore I'd never run it again. It's a straight route up a barren highway and back. Maybe some road kill could help the interest level along the course, but unfortunately, it's against Tennessee law to take road kill home and eat it unless you actually kill the vermin. Daggumit! How else could we get cheap meat?

Come fall, I'll further my running adventures by joining the women's running series. I'll meet with the intermediate group once a week, and we'll run a few miles every Monday night. So being May, I guess it's time to dust off the running shoes and prepare to lag behind the rabbits (runners not road kill).

Speaking of animals, have you seen the movie, Jumanji? When running, I often think of the panting hippo at the back of the stampede. Yep! That would be moi; but, I figure running behind the pack beats snoozing on the sofa. Although someone once told me it is better to be like an elephant than a fly. The elephant moves slowly and lives a long time, while the hyper fly zips around the window and is dead by morning. Personally, I wouldn't want to be either . . . nor do I want to be the hippo from Jumanji, but that's life in the runner's world.

Stylish Blogger Award

I was given a Stylish Blogger Award  from Rhonda several weeks ago, but I'm just now getting around to taking it.  Having Style is new for me!  I never really considered the humor genre to be elegant but maybe I make it that way. ;)  Then yesterday she gave me the Versatile Blogger Award. I guess if I can have style, I must be versatile too. The awards have the same rules, so I'm awarding them together to some wonderful bloggers. You may choose the one that fits you best or have them both because I'm giving them to those on the list below.

                                 ♥ Thank You Rhonda at http://www.laugh-quotes.com

With these awards come a set of rules. Rhonda and I are not crazy about rules, but here they are:

1. Thank and link back to the person giving you the award.
2. Share 7 things about yourself.
3. Award 10-15 blogs you think deserve this award.
4. Contact these bloggers and let them know about the award.

Here's my seven "things" in case you're interested:

• I love to write for children.
• I'm currently working on my fifth kidlit novel.
• I have a story published in this month's issue of AppleSeeds magazine.
• I have queried and am hoping for more gigs.
• I am currently enrolled in my second course at the Institute of Children's Literature.
• My all time favorite authors are Gordan Kormen and Margaret Peterson Haddix.
• I am an active member of the Midsouth chapter of SCBWI.

Here are some wonderful blogs that deserve the Stylish & Versatile Blogger Awards:

Anna at Green Talk http://www.green-talk.com

Shelli's  at Market My Words http://www.faeriality.blogs.com
Christina at Hungry Meets Healthy http://www.hungrymeetshealthy.com
Crazy Mommy at Evil Eyebrows and Other Oddities www.evileyebrows.blogspot.com
Talli at Talli Roland http://talliroland.blogspot.com
Aimee at Seeking the Write Life http://www.aimeelsalter.com
Debbie at Inkygirl http://inkygirl.com
Pamo at Pamo Blog http://pamoblog.blogspot.com
Karen at Following the Whispers http://karenfollowingthewhispers.blogspot.com

The Humor Smith http://www.humorsmith.com

Quirky Loon http://www.quirkyloon.com
Jodi at Rants "N Rascals http://www.rantsnrascals.com
The Chronicals of Rico and Regular Appearances From...  http://ricoswaff.com


Please check them out.

Teacher's Curse

We've all heard of the mother's curse, "I hope one day you have a kid who acts just like you," but did you know there is also a teacher's curse? Although most of my students have liked me, I certainly would not be so vain as to claim that I've pleased all of them. In fact, I had one little stinker years ago who absolutely despised me.

I'm not sure what I ever did to make her hate me so much. Perhaps it had to do with her having problems with her mother, who I was friendly with, or maybe it was that she was so gifted that I struggled to meet her needs. Whatever the mystery reason, this girl had it out for me unlike any student I've ever taught.

Now you might be thinking, No. She didn't really hate you, you just think she did, but I assure you, this child hated me enough that I had multiple conversations with her parents about how she hated me and the mystery as to why. Even her siblings would go out of their way to be kind to me just to aggravate her. She was also a sly one who was usually passively aggressive in class just enough to bend the rules without breaking them. For example, she once asked me if the dress I was wearing was one I'd worn when I was pregnant. She knew what she was doing!

I don't see most of my students outside of class, but her family tended to run in the same circles as us, so I was always and forever running into her around town. When seeing me outside of school, she would literally fling her nose in the air and walk by, no matter how her parents tried to persuade her to say, "Hello."

I ran into this beautiful, young woman about a year ago. Although she took my order at Starbucks, I didn't recognized her. She told me who she was and wanted to know how I was doing. Plus, she acknowledged and apologized for having been a nasty child. She went on to tell me how she too is now a teacher. She teaches math at an inner city high school. Knowing about her teaching situation, I really didn't need to place a curse on her. I'm sure she gets much worse than she gave me. What goes around comes around. I do, however, wish her the best.

Under Visited Posts

If you're a blogger, you know the post. It's that one you spent multiple brain cells developing and when written you thought, this is pretty darn good. Then you posted it and hardly anyone came by for a visit. Maybe it had a bad title, topic, or timing. Who knows? But I have a few favorites that I'd like to re-post to see if they can find new life.

So here are five of my personal faves that are not currently on my top ten list. In fact, only The Eighth Wonder of the World was ever on my top ten more popular post list. Just click on the link to revisit if you missed the post the first time around, and if you are interested.

That Closet Did It to My Clothes Again! #AtoZ

Empty Nest #AtoZ

 

The Eighth Wonder of the World

I'm Going To Be A Millionaire!

 

Trivia Night at Kickin' Chicken'

 

 

Vaseline

You know the stuff! Petroleum jelly. Thick gooey blobs of grease that could be a fun horror movie special affect with a little red food coloring. With a name like "Petroleum jelly," one has to wonder where this stuff comes from. Is there a petroleum plant, run off from gasoline, or what?

Vaseline

Looking at Wikipedia, petroleum jelly is a semi-solid mixture of hydrocarbons with a melting point of about 167˚. Now I don't know about you, but I never tried to melt Vaseline. I mean if you coat your logs in Vaseline then stick them in the fire, will they burn longer? Purer? Send off healing products into the air?

The article goes on to report that Vaseline is tasteless. Thank God they told me that! I was going to spread it on my toast this morning. Also, Vaseline has no known healing effects, but rather works as a Bandaid to keep germs out. What do you use Vaseline for? On second thought, I don't want to know!

XX - The Sex

For those of you who clicked because you saw the three letter word above, get your minds out of the gutter and accept that my post is about females. Men like to call us weak, and us women let those goofballs believe it as we cleverly outsmart our male counterparts. After all, we have an extra leg of chromosome.

Remember the scene from My Big Fat Greek Wedding, where the women manipulated the man into coming up with their idea because after all, "men are smart." But that's just a movie. What about real life male smarts? I bet you don't see many women grabbing their cameras and heading out to photograph a real live tornado when the sirens go off.

I'll never forget college when a good friend had a serious problem and needed my help. He had a hole in his sock, and not one guy in his fraternity knew how to fix it. He wanted me to show him how to darn a sock. It ain't rocket science! And then there's the young man who wanted to heat a can of soup. He lit the burner and put the can on top. Nearly set the place on fire.

So when you're thinking about the intelligent sex, think females - but please don't think of Sarah Palin.

Yours: That's Succinctly Yours - The Old Chair

Grandma Goulash's Weekend Writer's Retreat

I've been challenged to write about this chair. Well, okay. I've written about sea shells, dragons, and dandruff, so surely I can come up with a word or two about a chair--from the chair's point of view. Why not?

What are you looking at? Oh, yeah. I forgot that I have gorgeous scenery out my window. Not that I ever get to look at it. Behind is my magic word. The sea is behind me. You think I ever get to hear the movement of the water or feel the wind against my velvet. All I get is a smelly behind on top of me, and these people aren't lightweights either. In fact, my velvet used to be yellow but I became so flustered from the fat gal, that I turned as orange as an Oompa Loompa. Yet I'm supposed to look pretty and pretend that I don't have the worst job in the house. 


Flush! Err, uh, correction--the second worst job in the house.

 

Click on this icon to see the Grandma Goulash's picture challenge and hop onto other pages.

Zowwy! Here We Go Again.

I just finished the A-Z April Blogging challenge, and now I've signed up for the Z-A in May. What am I nuts? I guess I just need a little direction on what to write about . . . and zowwy, maybe a little time to figure out my posts. Stick with me, and I'll figure this out along the way. Even though May is the longest month of the year--just ask any teacher--I'm going to stay awake and make this blog challenge happen with zest!

Here We Go Again!

I thoroughly enjoyed the A-Z Challenge. During the month of April, I picked up a lot of new followers, but unfortunately, I'm not sure how many. Maybe between 75-100. I surprised myself in how I was able to keep up with it and come up with original topics for each letter. I enjoyed the challenge so much that here we go again. I signed up for this new Z-A Challenge at: 

 http://www.writewrongorindifferent.com. Why don't you come join me?

Cetus the Whale (Six Sentence Sunday)

Here's another six sentences from Being Bompsy Carleffa, my unpublished YA manuscript for the Six Sentence Sunday at http://www.sixsunday.blogspot.com. After Ben's kidnapping by the mob, Sarah and Austin are searching for him by studying clues from the internet.

            “During study hall, I conducted further research on the Carleffas.” Austin looked like he’d discovered a cure for Cancer or better yet, found Ben. “They’re worth sixteen billion dollars—claimed money anyway; they probably have more hidden in overseas accounts since their accountant’s a crook with a criminal record as long as Cetus the Whale.”

            “Long as who?”

            “Huge constellation with a M77 that has an active galactic nucleus,” Austin said.

            Since I didn’t speak nerd, I had no clue what he was babbling about, but that didn’t stop Austin from continuing in his excitement.

Mrs. Zimmerman's Donuts #AtoZ

If I ever wish to get published, I guess I need to spend less time blogging and more time working on my manuscript, "Mrs. Zimmerman's Donuts." I was inspired to write this book from Halloween memories as a kid. My mother had repeatedly told me not to eat ANYTHING unwrapped. Being ridiculously  obedient, each year I skipped gooey pieces of grease on a plate of powdered sugar. Boy was I a dumb kid!

Years later my mom said, "Well, you could have eaten something unwrapped from Mrs. Zimmerman."

Why didn't you tell me that sooner, Mom? Since it's too late for me to go back and down a donut--having moved to another city and given up sugar--I invented a character named Knob. He wears a buzz cut that makes his head look like a door knob. Unlike me, Knob has a wild Mohawk wearing buddy who will teach him how to break the rules with style.

I hope one day you'll be able to visit your local bookstore and pick up a copy of "Mrs. Zimmerman's Donuts." Until then, read my blog.

Thanks for sticking around for the AtoZ Challenge. Tomorrow I will be participating in the six sentence Sunday. Now what am I supposed to write about throughout the rest of May? Please come back because I know I'll figure something out.

Real Life YoYos #AtoZ

Being 2011, finding yoyos is much easier with Al Gore's invention of the internet. All you have to do is go to YouTube and search, "The People of Walmart." So maybe after viewing those photos, what I saw wasn't that odd, but still, these strangers remain ingrained in my memory.

My family took a vacation to Chicago when I was a little tyke, and we saw some oddities walking down the street as if nothing was unusual about them. A man had a faucet stuck to his head and I embellished this scene in my writing. I combined the scene with the stranger on the Paris subway who leaned over passengers, flapped his hands like he was dog paddling, and said, "Awook!" No, I didn't make this up. The truth is stranger than fiction. But, I did make up the flash fiction story which I've placed at the end of this post.

I have yet to find a story for the man with feathers sticking out of his hat or Dracula, the man who shared a train with my daughter. But fear not. I'm a writer, so these individuals will make their way into my fiction because a yoyo is worth preserving!

I can't believe tomorrow's post is for the letter Z! This month went fast. Please tune in as I discuss my work in progress (WIP) called Mrs. Zimmerman's Donuts. And finally, if you're interested, here's Faucet Head.

Faucet Head

     A scraggy man with a faucet stuck to his forehead pulled his Harley  into the reststop, while Alanna poked at the busted drinking fountain. Standing behind her, he flipped his hands like a dog paddling through a crusty pond. The stranger, reeking of dead fish, leaned over her shoulder and said, “Awook!”


      Alanna calmly stroked her dry throat and reached for the stranger's forehead. “Mind if I get water?”

       “Aw-oo-ook!" He leaped back. "This thing ain't got no water. You turn that dang crank, and me brains is falling out.”

      “It's ninety degrees, and every fountain's broken."


      “Sorry. Cain't help. Stingy plumber want two-hundred-dollars to fix me head."