i'm sad.

wanna know why the only color in this picture is me?

because there is no color when i walk out of my house.

whimper.

i think there's an alien in my stomach.

christmas

food
and

family

also, i love zoey.

the year mom screamed a lot.

scream #1: my mom thought that my brother wasn't going to be able to come home for christmas (he lives in missouri). since i got home about 2 weeks ago, she mentioned every day how sad she was that peter wasn't going to be here. little did she know, he already had a ticket bought and paid for.



scream #2: my dad surprised my mom with a cruise to hawaii this year, something she has been talking about (literally) for years.


my mom has an awesome scream. it's even better when she screams because she's so dang happy.

also, this really has nothing to do with my mom screaming, but watch my nephew jaxson totally freaking out. it is also awesome.

books for christmas?!

thank you, mitchell.

the nose knows

sometimes when i play with kids, i forget that they don't understand sarcasm.

but one thing is for sure: my niece definitely understands the command "touch your nose."

bringin the sass back to sewin

today i was crafty. it was the first time i've used a sewing machine since i was...12 maybe? so a good ten years. obviously my mom helped me turn out this sassy apron, however there is no photographic evidence of her help because she literally threatened to bite my nose off if i put pictures of her on my blog.


bam. finished product.

one time i had a childhood

when i was little, i liked to pretend to be a mermaid in the bathtub. it mainly involved letting my hair float around in a mermaid-like fashion, and making my feet and legs into right angles to look like fins. there was usually fin-flipping involved.

my hair in this picture may or may not have been exaggerated.

things i find in my closet, part III

part I: journals
part II: prom dress
part III: grandma's fur coat. this coat is rad. my grandma betty was a classy broad. (any jewelry that i actually wear, i inherited from her.) this fine specimen of old-time glam just solidifies her status as a fashionista. if my arms were 3 inches shorter, i would totally wear this coat.

eating your feelings

this morning, i woke up to this email from tristan:

"I went to the store yesterday and bought a big ol bag of those Lindt chocolate balls and box of that hazelnut kind you got when we were at target. They're all gone now after a binge yesterday, and I feel hungover."



i think it's his way of saying he misses me?

my ultimate fantasy

me + neighbor's dog

karma

being home for the holidays, i have the chance to revisit some old memories. since my mom is an excellent record-keeper, we have books and books of family photos. while working on a project, i came across these two pictures:
(sidenote: check out my dad's face.)

there are two conclusions that i draw from these photos.
1. obviously, i was starved for attention as a child and had to constantly act out to make my presence known.
2. someday, when i have kids and want to have a nice family picture, the family picture gods are going to punish me hardcore.

birthday girl

so today is my mom's birthday. what a fox!

she is cute and i love her.


happy birthday, mom!

a few things

i'm kind of obsessed with my niece.
this picture is especially great because as one of my friends pointed out to me, it looks like one of my arms is regular sized and the other is tiny sized.

i made cookies today. would you like a little jurassic park or fantasy creature with your christmas spirit?


oh yeah. remember how i'm in arizona right now and i don't have to wear shoes while i bask in the sun in my backyard because it's like 80 degrees?

suckers.

the barnacle snowman

let me start off by telling you a little bit about my nephew, gavin. he's almost 8. he's blond. he's got big blue eyes. in short, he's adorable. or should i say, adowable. because he cannot say his r's, and as a result, sounds like he is a boyn and bwed membuh of "jersey shore" (minus the profanity).

tonight at our family christmas party, gavin was playing with a stuffed snowman. suddenly he turns to us, and threatens: "bewayah the baahnacle snowman--he's toychuhwuss!"

(translation: beware the barnacle snowman--he's torturous!)

we're pretty sure he meant to say the abominable snowman, who is treacherous, but we're also pretty sure that his original way was pretty freaking funny.

so, you've been warned.

home sweet home

my pantry:


my parents' pantry:

44 pages of blood, sweat, and tears

it's 12:58 am. i just sent off my teacher work sample to be reviewed, and hopefully accepted. because i swear, if it's not accepted and i have to go back and do any sort of editing,

i will drop out of college.

responsibility fail.

i meticulously cleaned my room. i folded and put away my laundry. i changed my sheets, and made my bed. i took a nice long shower, and carefully did my make-up. i made myself a well-balanced meal. i changed the lightbulbs in grace's room. i sufficiently stalked probably my entire friends list on facebook. i did the dishes. i caught up on the news, and checked the weather forecast for the next ten days.

did i start working on my teacher work sample, the only thing that actually really needs to get done?

negative, ghostwriter.

word vomit.

so "the man" tells me to like so-and-so, the "anti-man/establishment/whatever it is that you're anti for the mere sake of being contrary" tells me not to like so-and-so. either way, someone is trying to tell me what to think. so why not just decide what i actually do like or dislike, rather than just saying "well i can't conform to what 'the man' wants me to do, so i better do the opposite." at the end of the day, who the crap cares? if you like it, like it. if you don't, don't. but don't let your decisions be based on the logic of "everyone else is doing it, so i should too," or "everyone else is doing it, so i should do the opposite." if that miley cyrus song makes me want to move my hips like yeah, i'm going to freakin' move my hips like yeah. i'm not going to refuse to listen to the song because it's on the Top 100 and i'm "so above that mass-produced drivel." whether you dedicate your life to fighting or following the oh-so-nebulous "man," the sad fact of the matter is this: your life revolves around him.

i think what i'm trying to say here is that sometimes, the whole struggle between conformism/nonconformism is a joke. being contrary for the sake of being contrary doesn't make you an independent thinker--you are just as much of a slave to the masses as everyone else, because your opinions depend on that mass for something to oppose. i think it's the constant need to feel unique or special that gives rise to this myth of nonconformism. i dunno. here's my take on it--if you can wake up and go to bed feeling happy and comfortable with who you are, regardless of how many people like or dislike the things that you do, regardless of how many people do or do not do the same things that you do, or think the way you think, you're good. i daresay that being "unique" is highly overrated, while owning who you actually are is woefully undervalued.

i'm hungry.

♥

true friends are the ones that literally carry you on their back so that you don't ruin your shoes walking through the snow.

thanks, grace.

al...most...therrrrre.....

how to avoid getting murdered by imaginary serial killers and/or furnaces

so i've had the house to myself since wednesday, which all in all, has been pretty nice. i can play my music as loud as i want, i can leave my socks all over, and i can even walk around naked if i want (whether or not i have chosen to do so is entirely my business and not yours).

however, all this revelry takes a sharp turn into pure terror whenever the sun goes down. then my house starts making all sorts of noises that i didn't seem to be aware of during daylight hours. with every creak and crack that older houses are wont to make, my mind recalls more and more scenes from every horror movie i have ever seen or heard about, and i become more and more convinced that there is a killer in my house and i am inevitably going to be murdered. then it turns out it's just my heater. or is it? i came up with a plan to avoid the basement, because that is the scariest part of the house. but herein lies two problems: one, my room is in the basement, so i eventually have to go down there at some point (to sleep or get more socks to put on and then leave lying randomly around the house), and two, the bathroom upstairs is out of toilet paper, so if i have to pee, i have to go downstairs.

so then what i generally do is this: turn on every light in the house, and close every door. that way, if there's a killer lurking in a room, i'll hear the door open as he tries to creep out and kill me. in general though, i just try to stay in one spot (preferably in a corner so nothing could surprise me from behind) until i absolutely have to move. like last night, for example, when it came time to move from the upstairs couch into my bed downstairs, i tried to streamline this process as much as possible by just running downstairs to my bed. bam, done. but then, i was like "dangit, i have to pee." nope, stayed in bed. then woke up three consecutive hours in a row this morning, really having to pee. but i didn't go until it was light outside. because i am one of the most neurotic people you will probably ever meet.

thanksgiving recap

so as it turns out, even though i didn't go home for thanksgiving, it was still about the things that it's always been about:

food


and being with people you love.


thanks for helping me have an awesome thanksgiving, meg.

dear "blizzard,"

you were more overrated than "titanic." don't bring that weak crap around here anymore. when the weather forecast says there's 100% chance (although that, as my cousin julie pointed out is rather oxymoronic) of snow, i expect more than a powder-sugar dusting. don't get my hopes up that school will get cancelled and that i'll get to spend the day cuddled up in a blanket reading harry potter 7.

you're lame,
amy

this is not something i like to see.

about how i almost died three times.

so two people almost killed me on the freeway today. both were big trucks that tried to switch into my lane WHILE I WAS STILL THERE. hell-O have you ever heard of side mirrors? i honked my horn twice in the span of 40 minutes.

the third time i almost died was at my own hands, but i maintain that it was not my fault. so i'm driving home, and i look over and i see...

A SPIDER HANGING FROM MY CAR CEILING. i literally screamed. this was my thought process:

"what do i do. what do i do. do i pull over? what do i do. i can't keep driving with this spider 7 inches away from my head. if i let it crawl away i'll be paranoid for the rest of my drive home. what do i do."

this is what i did: i took of my shoe (the left one, the right was still on the gas pedal). i waited until the spider safely landed on the passenger window. i carefully took aim while watching the road out of the corner of my eye, then BAM! killed it. dead.

then i forgot about it and when got home 20 minutes later and i was like "hey...where's my shoe?"

freeway-0, amy-3. booyah.

notice that crazy look in my eyes?
one. more. real. day.

monday is my last day of real teaching. then tuesday and wednesday are party days. then thanksgiving break.

i am so close i can almost taste it.

sweet, sweet victory.

the weak boy.

so today i made a sweet slideshow for my students. it's a fairy tale. i'll paraphrase.
weak boy wants to be strong, goes to see the local witch.


witch is ugly, boy buys potion to get strong.


potion is gross, boy is scared but drinks it anyway.


boy turns into velociraptor and he's like "whaaaa?"


then he eats the witch. because he's a dinosaur.


then he turns back into a weak boy and he's like dangit. (note: there's supposed to be a picture of arnold schwarzenegger in the thought bubble, but for some reason it didn't work.)


so he starts working out and then wins the mr. universe competition. the end.


they liked it, but after it was over they realized that i was going to make them do work again.

kid: "if you tell us that we're going to have to write our own stories now, i'm going to shoot myself in the head."
me: "well i guess you better get your gun out..."

i just could not help myself. i feel like if i was a real teacher, i'd probably get sued for that.

bloggers, unite!

by the way. if you're interested in making your blog awesome, go read this blog. it will help you.
http://www.bloggingbookshelf.com/
doooooo it.

avoidance maneuvers

you look at the clock. it's 7:24--FHE is at your house at 7:30. people are going to start showing up in 2-6 minutes. what do you do?

step 1: fly into a panic. shut your computer, jump up from the couch, and run downstairs.


step 2: agree to grace's plan to make ourselves truly unavailable by leaving the house altogether to go to jimmy johns.

step 3: look for your coat. don't find it, because it's upstairs, but you can't risk being trapped into FHE to go up and get it, so find the nearest alternative: full-length blue fuzzy bathrobe.


step 4: peek out the side door to make sure you won't be seen running to the car.

do all of this in under 2 minutes.

step 5: go to jimmy johns. while going through the drive-thru, look down after the adrenaline has worn off. then look at grace and say, "uhm...i'm wearing a bathrobe." grace will reply, "yeah...that's why i chose the drive-thru, honey."


step 6: when going back home, do a slow drive-by of the house that you yourself live in, just to make sure that no one who will try to make you go to FHE is still there.

step 7: walk back into your house victorious.

i ain't the pope.

what is an appropriate response to an apology? i'm always at a loss. i see potential problems to anything that comes into my mind to say, because i always feel like anything i think to say would be a lie. or mean.

response 1: "it's ok." i never want to say this, because i don't think it's ok, otherwise the person wouldn't be saying sorry in the first place.

response 2: "it's not a big deal." but what if it was a big deal, to me?

response 3: "i don't believe you." well that just gets us no where.

response 4: "i forgive you." first of all, that sounds pompous. like i'm the pope or something, crossing the offender and sending them on their way. second of all, i'm rarely ready to forgive people when they first apologize, because i'm a vindictive person and sometimes i just want to be mad.

i generally avoid this dilemma by just not telling people that i'm upset, and then i go and take a nap instead. or eat something. but occasionally feelings do bubble over (which may or may not coincidentally coordinate with a certain week of the month), and thus my dilemma is presented. maybe from now on i'll just grunt and punch people in the shoulder, like boys do.

money down the toilet.

i had a thought today, about something that really strikes me as quite odd.

toilet paper. i'm not saying that i don't like it or don't want it in my house. since we ran out downstairs two weeks ago and have been in a guerilla war with the upstairs girls to steal their toilet paper, i have become profoundly grateful when i walk in to see a roll on the...roll...thing. BUT. when i finally caved and went to the store to buy an $8 pack of toilet paper, the thought occurred to me: this is weird. i'm paying money for something that i'm literally going to wipe my butt with*, and then flush down the toilet.

it's kind of how i feel about paying rent, too. except it's less literal, of course. at least i get a place to live, i guess.

also, grace and i just watched four hours of gossip girl. we look like this right now:

judge all you want in your glass houses, haters.

*i apologize for potentially offending your reading sensibilities. but come on. everyone does it.

today: a photo essay.

mischief is my middle name.

let me tell you a tale of how i won over the hearts and respect of my fellow teachers with some witty words and cut-out butcher paper.

it all started when the english teachers were taunting us about how we wouldn't have any fun at lunch because they were going to be gone for the next two days at a conference. we replied that we would have TONS of fun, and we would even bring treats. and we did. and we sent them pictures of the treats. and then we started joking about all the fun we could have with their rooms while they were gone.

so we did. and not to brag or anything, but i pretty much impressed the pants off of the teachers with my mischievous ways. they had no idea i had it in me. probably because i never talk during lunch. i guess the whole "amy actually has a personality" cat is out of the bag now...

the crew and the costco cake:


here are some samples of my handiwork:

for the teacher whose favorite thing to tell other teachers is "gird up thy loins...", on her flip chart to be discovered in approximately 4 days.

and my personal favorite,

in the soccer coach's room

the students have no idea how funny teachers can be.

viva ponytails

recent conversation with one of my students:

student: "miss hansen...do you ever wear your hair down...?"
me: (pause) "no."

i didn't bother going on to explain that when given the choice between sleeping for another 25 minutes or taking that time to do my hair to impress a bunch of kids who will still probably think i'm mean and weird no matter how good my hair looked, there really is no contest. they don't need to know that i look like a normal person on the weekends. all they need to know is how to form coherent sentences (in both french, and english).

(which they don't)

i then realized, i had become one of those teachers. i had them in high school, the ones where i would think "i want to help her! she could be so much better looking if she just...(a,b,c)." and now i am that teacher. and now i understand that teacher in high school. and i salute her.