an amy divided against herself might not be able to stand.

this is a conversation i recently had with myself:

me: i hate this. there is no WAY i can do this for the rest of my life. these little monsters don't want to learn, they only want to be entertained. i'm not a freaking circus performer! why am i even doing this again? all i ever hear anyway is "oh yeah i had french in high school--i don't remember any of it." so what's the point of my career again? oh right. glorified babysitting, with actually about the same wage rate that i got when i was 15. awesome.

me: come on amy. you can do hard things. you are not a quitter. you will not let snot-nosed 15 year olds beat you. even if their french is horrible. it's ok if they couldn't form a coherent sentence to save their life. be realistic. be patient. of course they want to have fun. they're 15. they have the attention span of a chimpanzee on speed. humor them a little bit.

inner struggle. most likely to be continued until november 30th.

deformities vs. verbs

girl: "you know why nursing school sucks? because i spend all day studying about babies with deformities so then i'm scared to have my own babies because they're going to die or be deformed and then i come home and cry because the kids i work with are deformed and handicapped and it makes me really sad."

me: "oh. well...my kids can't conjugate verbs...and it makes me...sad...too..."

fail. my life is not that hard. thanks for the dose of perspective, universe.

boom.

ever wonder what it looks like when i have a mental breakdown? kinda like this:

when the dog bites, when the bee stings, when terrorists try to capture the king in a garbage truck...

last night, i had a dream that maria and captain von trapp got divorced. maria went back to the convent (with an updated 'do), and the captain became a drunken vagrant living on the streets.

i was heartbroken and waited hopefully for the end of the dream when they would reconcile their differences, the captain would sober up, and they would joyfully reunite.

unfortunately the dream switched to an anachronistic plot involving louis XIV being married to marie antoinette, and their lives were threatened by terrorists in a garbage truck that set fire to paris in an attempt to capture the king.

now i'll never know the fate of the broken von trapp family. i'd like to think they got back together. i mean, they fought the nazis with song and dance, and then crossed the alps on foot. that creates a bond that stands the test of time, right? RIGHT???

caffeine wreaks havoc on my body

for a detailed explanation of the origin of this brilliant business plan, please visit: the lovely grace stephenson's blog

also, i had a 32 oz cup of dr. pepper at 9:30pm. this was a bad decision. i hardly ever drink caffeine, so when it hits my blood stream i am like a terrier on crack. my body shakes, i type at the speed of light, and everything is so dang funny i can hardly stand it. this was especially funny, but i've watched it when i wasn't hopped up on stimulants from mcdonalds and it was still funny then too.

MARCEL THE SHELL WITH SHOES ON from Dean Fleischer-Camp on Vimeo.

thank you alison for bringing this to my life.

speaking of alison, i miss you. and holli.


also, my friend katherine had HUGE marshmallows at her house. i stuffed two of them in my mouth and subsequently drooled all over myself. it was really one of the finer moments of my life.



i'm going to crash in approximately 10 minutes. bye.

...this is just how my face is.

today i realized that i generally have four set facial expressions when i observe a class. they are muted versions of rather extreme emotions.

it generally starts out as this:

extreme boredom. notice how i'm trying to appear attentive and interested by the uplifted chin and semblance of eye contact.

then it devolves into this:

this generally happens when the kids speak. it's kind of the tamed version of a "oh my sweet mercy what are they saying?" expression.

which then shifts to this:

which is when i am actually really trying to figure out what language they're speaking, but failing.

ultimately, my face gets stuck in this position:

trying desperately to quell the rising horror at the massacre of my favorite language. bless their little hearts, they try so dang hard.

my days are numbered.

high schools are freaking cesspools of illness and disease.

every day my immune system is bombarded by who knows how many germs. with every cough, sneeze, sniff, and various other sick sounds people produce, i can feel my defenses starting to cave. i can sense the headache, sore throat, and stuffy nose all lurking on the borders of my white blood cell fortresses.

i am a sitting duck.