My Degree in K.M.Asshat!

You know, sanctimonius academics piss me the hell off.

I am NOT a professor.

I am staff.

I have my terminal degree- HA! Bite me.

Ok, ok so maybe not so much with the "Bite Me", but seriously people who gives a "Rat's Hat" if you have several initials after your name. A.S.S. works just fine not matter HOW educated you are.

Last time I checked, being a professor meant being a teacher, not being an asshat. I don't believe that reducing a student to tears is an effective way of teaching. I'm not sure I believe that the "everyone is a winner" theory works either, but what does it serve to destroy a fellow human being. Oh right, I forgot, it serves the EGO.

Well jackass, I'm not here to watch your masturbatorial rant and could seriously give two shits less about what you have to say, simply because you're an ass.

My students may not be the next shining star or theater god, but so what? The universe will cull out the chaff wheather or not they have your dull-razor wit critiques to cut them down.

I believe that school is where we LEARN, not where we become self serving pricks. I believe in building my students up, using their failures to build upon and moving forward. I believe that even the crappiest actor or tech deserves their turn to try; note I did not say shine, but try. With out trying and allowing those around us to try, we all fail. I believe in the work for the sake of the work, not for the so called "Glory".

I believe there may be a reason I'm "only" staff. I think I can teach a hell of a lot better from where I'm sitting that some of those other "Terminal" ass hats out there.

But then again, I believe those "Professors" are too busy worshiping at the altar of Ego to care about me...

That's ok- I'll keep on keepin' on and know in my heart that I have been the best teacher I can be.

Look Out Tiger!

Don't Look Back in Anger

2009 was at best difficult and at worst tragic, but I survived and have grown stronger. In the end, I decided to look back at '09 and catalog it in a different light..

2009 brought me face to face with the mortality of my parents. My mother under went testing and surgery. She was diagnosed with lung cancer. She under went chemo therapy. She survived. She is cancer free as of now. She has a cute new hair do. She is alive. She is here. That is a blessing.

My father, not to be out done, practically died twice- in two weeks! As, I held his hand in the ER, tears streaming down my face and clutching his hand I promised him I'd take care of mom, something I'd never done before. His eyes, wide with fear, looked back at me and the strength in his never faltered. I've never seen him laid so low and I was terrified. He survived. He is here. That is a blessing.

Annabelle had a rough year. She was changing before our eyes, but we didn't know it. Her behavior slowly changed and she grew withdrawn and tired. Over the course of 6 months things changed so slowly we had no idea our daughter was not her self. After a long vacation and a trying week, I decided to take her to the doctor. Her excessive thirst was not natural. Her need to use the restroom so frequently was a trial. She was so skinny. She is Diabetic. Type 1. Insulin dependent. Needles 4 times a day. Oh god. She is here. She is thriving. I have over come (sort of) my fear. Abby has returned to me, when I didn't know she was lost. That is a blessing.

My job has been difficult. I have a job. I have a job I'm good at and I love. That is a blessing.

Randy's job may evaporate at anytime. 495 people from is company lost their job. He missed the cut by 23 people. He has a job. That is a blessing.

My Mother turned 70 and we had a surprise party! Blessing

Randy took my to Napa for my birthday. Blessing

The kids were both in "The Pirates of Penzance"! If not a blessing, then certainly fun.

We went to Japan and met Randys Aunt and cousin. BLESSING!
I ate sushi in Japan! AWESOME
I saw baseball in Japan! Awesome

Randy had started down a new road and has found aunt, uncles, cousins, siblings and more family... Blessing.

We are blessed. We are fortunate. We are here. We persist. We go on.

I have the love of my family, the love of my husband and children and the love of some of the best friends ever. I am blessed- even in my darkest times, even in my anger, I am blessed.

Mama Said It's Time for a New Post

... and I ALWAYS listen to my Mama...

Ok Maybe not, always, but more often than not...

Apparently, the negativity of my last post is due to expire and I need to move on. She's right. Time to get over it and put on my Big Girl Pants. Goddamn pants are a size bigger than they were last year, crap. Everyone who actually reads this nonsense already knows what is going on in my life, so, I guess I should try and put some good vibes out there in the universe. Of course the vibes you feel might be from the button of my new Big Girls Pants flying off and hitting me in the head... oh well, here goes...

I am taking a tap class.. yes, my grown ass self, is learning to falap-ball-change and shuffle off to Buffalo. I'm not great at it, but I'm not too bad. I go every Monday for an hour and work it, along with 5-7 other women. Women of varying ages and levels of experience. We have our first recital coming up and I'm proud to say that I actually invited non-family to attend. We are performing to "Baby It's Cold Outside" by Petula Clark and some creepy sounding dude. We are wearing circle skirts and cute little tops. Should be fun. We have been practicing and preparing with a few extra rehearsals.

I am really enjoying it and always feel good after class. We learn new things each week and it gives me a sense of accomplishment whenever I am able to conquer a tricky or complex step. I like coming home and sharing it with Randy. Perhaps I can convince him to take lessons with me. (Yeah I doubt it too)

Let's see what else... Well there is lots of other stuff going on too, but Mama said this needed to be positive, so I guess that will have to wait... Yeah other good stuff is going on too, but I can't think of it right now, my mind is too busy remembering how to do the Cincinnati and the Maxi Ford...

5,6,7,8...

My Head Hurts

2009 can go ahead and end as far as I'm concerned. I am SO over it... It has been a very difficult and rude year. Not one I'll be thinking of with Auld Lang Syne in 2010. Holy crap...

Those of you still reading already know WHY 2009 blows chunks. No point in reiterating it again. Really... no point.

I'm angry. Really fucking angry. Mind numbingly angry. It's stupid to be that angry. It fixes nothing and chokes the soul, but oddly I'm finding solace in the the frisson of being this angry. It kind of numbs things. Like a persistent white noise blocking out the pain.

Yes, it's lame to be this angry, but you know what? I'm tired of being scared. Tired of worrying and tired of failing so I'm gonna be really good at being angry. I come from a long line of angry people. I've perfected "Angry Old Lady Face" years ago. The face where the lines of disappointment form a halo around razor thin lips and the furrow of the brow has Grand Canyon depths. I'm REALLY good at that face- ask Randy.

I sometimes wonder if Grandma was as bitter and hard as I remember. If she was really that severe and if she was, was she always that way? Was she born with some kind of aggro-gene that formed her or was she worn down like a glacier. Sorrow and disappointment wearing on her like little erosion filled rivers. Siphoning all the happiness of life from her face.

I KNOW Grandma was happy. I remember her as happy, but I also remember how severe she seemed and how she is remembered. Remembered by her family- very different than how she was seen by her fellow church goers and collegues.

I can remember the day we buried her. A dark and dreary day. Her Memorial was an event for her church. HUGE really. There I stood shaking hands with people I'd never met and listening to them tell stories of a woman I wasn't sure I'd ever met. A laughing and joyful woman. Person after person giving their condolences to me for a woman I wasn't sure I knew.

At the private burial, we all gathered around her plot. Feet sinking in the water logged grass and the heavens did their best to drown us. And we prayed. We were praying over a large bouquet of yellow roses. It was all very solemn and all I could do was laugh. Yes, laugh. Roses? Seriously? Grandma was a strong and forthright woman of impeccable manners and morals. She was NOT a rose. My mother had to pinch me to keep from laughing too loud.

Terrible I know. But all these years later I still think about it. I still giggle, but at the same time I worry. Who will I be when I die and how will I be remembered. How will my loved ones remember me? Will they too be shocked to hear what people say about me and feel like they are at the funeral of someone they don't know? Or will everyone know me and still not have fond memories? Should I care? Perhaps, perhaps not.

But I'm angry. I'm so angry it hurts and fills my soul. Will it begin to wear me down too? Will I become an embittered old lady? Hell, an embittered middle aged broad? I don't know and frankly, right now, I'm not sure I care.

I think I like being angry and I think that's not a good thing.... my head hurts...