All Kinds of Heroes

As we enter Black History Month, my children came home with assignments to write a report on a famous and/or important African-American. Teachers always get the same reports about the same people like Martin Luther King, Jr., Harriet Tubman, Malcolm X, and Oprah.

Encourage your kids to dig deeper. There are modern political leaders like Barack Obama, Colin Powell (gulp), Al Sharpton, and Condoleeza Rice (double gulp) who deserve some attention.

More to consider:

Dr. Charles Drew
John Standard
Alice Parker
Frederick Jones
Alexander Miles
Philip Downing
William Barry
Lewis Howard Latimer
Daniel Hale Williams

Who am I forgetting?

Safety in Numbers?

I'm not alone after all.

At least one other teacher in Hillsborough County is willing to stand up and shout when the school district is acting in a way that's detrimental to our students.

Freedom High School's Shannon Peck-Janssen dares to ask: Is this good for kids?

We'll see if that matters to anyone besides us.

The Buzz is Building

Once upon a time...

A stiff vice president campaigns on his administration's legacy of unprecedented
prosperity. Looks terrible on TV. Bows out, following a disputed vote count.
Then, two terms later, with no incumbent in the race, he re-enters the fray.
Promises to change the course of a disastrous war founded on lies. And charges
to victory. I'm referring, of course, to the 1968 campaign of Richard Milhous
Nixon. But four decades later, history has a chance to repeat itself for Albert
Arnold Gore.

Should Al Gore run in 2008? I like all our candidates; however, Al might be my favorite.

But Gore's greatest appeal may come, ultimately, from what he represents to
voters fed up with two terms of the Bush administration. "He'll be able to make
the case that he should have been president already," says Carrick. "And that
had he been president, things would have been a lot different, with the Iraq war
being Exhibit A."

Just imagine what the world would look like today with Gore as president. Maybe we can do more than imagine.

Stand Up To Ahmadinejad

I don't really give this guy a lot of credit - he's mostly a joke. Even in the Arab world. But he's got nukes and hates Jews and yearns for our destruction...

so maybe we could take a moment and call him on it.

h/t Becky

Reasons Why Winter Weather Rocks

Tampa is experiencing freezing temperatures today. This is good news, because chills bring with them:

- Goose bumps. From cold weather or hot text messages - doesn't matter. Big fan!
- Rosy cheeks.
- Makeup that does not run down the side of your face when outdoor activities beckon.
- No need to use these. At least for a few days.
- Special treats like hot chocolate, oatmeal and vegetable soup. Rare delicacies in these parts.
- Snuggles.
- The opportunity to wear my Red Sox jacket.
- Curls without a frizz in sight.
- A spring in my step.
- Less crowded classrooms because disruptive students tend to stay home. I know. Wimps. For two days students have said, "Ms. Robinson, this is great! I can concentrate today." That alone is reason to pray for 30 degree weather.
- An excuse to use the fireplace which inevitably leads to shenanigans involving red wine and ice cream.
- Hot toddies for all my friends.

John McCain Blows

And here's why.

No Escalation

Last Saturday, hundreds of thousands of Americans marched on Washington to stop the escalation and end the war. Now, MoveOn.org is launching a national effort that everyone can join from home—yes, even you, sitting on the couch - bringing our message directly to Congress through a massive Virtual March on Washington.

On Thursday, February 1st—just days before the Senate votes on the escalation—we're going to let them know where their constituents stand by flooding their offices with 1 million messages.

Can you join us by signing up for a time to call your senators?

Click here to sign up for a "shift"—a time-slot when you'll call (we're trying to spread out the calls over the course of the day). All you need to do to participate is schedule a time to call your senators and urge them to block escalation.

Please join us.

John Edwards kicking the k-nowledge...

There's no doubt the minimum wage is too low: a full-time minimum wage worker brings in just $10,712 a year, less than half of the poverty level for a family of four.

There's no doubt it's been too long: in the ten years since the minimum wage was raised -- the longest delay in history -- the cost of living has gone up 25%.

And there's no doubt a higher minimum wage is good for the economy: studies show that cities and counties with higher minimum wages maintain or even increase employment levels.

Sign our petition to the Senate urging them to raise the minimum wage right away.

Plus - It's Cheaper to Keep Her

Years ago, I listened to Dr. Laura, Rush, and Glenn Beck for the same reason - to hear how the other side thinks. Helpful when crafting arguments, making me a hit at dinner parties. Unlike the other idiots, Dr. Laura made sense from time to time. Plus her abrasiveness made me giggle.

Dr. Laura was right about the importance of preventing divorce. I'd nod or say "Amen" when she told callers who didn't feel passion or love for their partners to stick it out for the kids.

I know. How 1950s of me.

I encouraged friends who were going through troubled marriages to quit watching the Lifetime Channel and aim for friendship instead. I believe it today. When two people bring children into this world, they no longer live for themselves. They loved each other once and, at the very least, should live as friends united in the noble goal of raising fine and well-adjusted human beings. Kids shouldn't pay the price just because you no longer get it up for your wife.

"Easy for you to say! You still love your husband and the two of you get along and sex is still fun and..."

Calm yourself. Yes, all of this is true and maybe it is easy for me to say. However, I still say it. Unless abuse is involved, fulfill your promise. Treat your partner with dignity. Surround your kids with a healthy and positive environment. Seek comfort elsewhere if you must, just keep it discreet, and our world would be a hell of a lot better off.

Yes, I am a child of divorce and threw a party when my parents split up. Again, abuse was involved. Bio Dad likey the drinkey. And therefore we were better off on our own. We are the exception, not the rule.

Turns out more couples are co-existing in such a matter. More than a few stay together for financial reasons, but the end result is a bunch of folks putting family first. I don't care about their motivations - my hat's off to them. Such couples are showing their kids what it means to be an unselfish parent and I admire the strength it takes to raise kids under less than perfect circumstances. Since Husband has been back and forth from Colorado, single parenting does a number on my psyche and patience. And this is only temporary!

No one should have to go through a divorce. Especially kids.

Monday Monday

A joke to start the week:

Much has been published about the sexual preferences and behaviors of former
Presidents such as Bill Clinton and even Abraham Lincoln. However, little
has been reported on the sexual practices of the current Commander-in-Chief.

It has recently been learned that the President and Mrs. Bush only make
love with Mrs. Bush on top since George Bush can only F*CK UP.

h/t Mother-in-Law

And the Rest Will Follow

We must stop the abuse of power and return the rule of law. And to those who believe our civil liberties are intact?

Free your mind.

All We Are Saying...

We're not winning. Not by a long shot. Instead we are breeding new terrorists and ensuring the struggle continues for our children to solve.

Enough is enough.

End the war and bring our troops home. Now.

I Ain't Got Nothin' for You Man

More fallout from Bush's State of (Dis)Union. According to the Union of Concerned Scientists,

regarding climate:

To ensure we leave our children and grandchildren a safe climate, Congress and the president need to work together to establish near term cuts in global warming pollution and set long term emission reduction targets aimed at avoiding the worst effects of global warming.

regarding clean vehicles:

Although challenges remain for turning these goals into reality, UCS hopes to see real progress with the new Congress, and we’ll be looking to you for help.

regarding clean energy:

Although President Bush paid lip service to clean electricity technologies, he failed to support critical renewable energy legislation requiring utilities to produce a percentage of electricity be produced from renewable sources like wind and solar.

regarding scientific integrity:

Although the president addressed the need for "technological breakthroughs...to confront the serious challenge of global climate change," developing that technology and understanding the true scope of this challenge requires independent science free from political interference.

Flurries My Ass

They say this winter in Colorado has been the coldest and snowiest since 1997.

Can't wait.

Take Our House. Please.

According to a certain superstar realtor we are bound to hire this weekend, we need to lower our price and paint over every beautifully colored room...
















... with the same horrible neutral shade of pale. Which should we pick - Pasty like Katie or WASPy White?

At any rate, I'll call Merlin again. Watching him work his magic might cushion the blow. (Heh. I said blow.) Downside: It'll cost us. Upside: Dad and Uncle Jimmy are laughing their asses off because they knew those "g*ddamned colors wouldn't sell."

A Clinton Cosmopolitan, Please

Drinking Liberally needs your favorite drink recipes by Feb. 9th.

The Des Moines chapter of Drinking Liberally is compiling a bartender's guide of alcoholic and non-alcoholic beverages to sell as a fundraiser for the 2007 Drinking Liberally National Conference (DLNC), scheduled for September 14-16 in Des Moines, Iowa."Liberal Mixology" will feature new drinks created by Drinking Liberally members from around the country, as well as public domain recipes with a progressive flair.

The book will contain the following eight categories:
1. Non-Alcoholic Drinks
2. Cocktails / Martinis
3. Shots / Shooters
4. Mixed Drinks
5. Punch / Party Drinks
6. Hot Drinks
7. Frozen Drinks
8. Homebrewed Drinks

We'd also like any progressive twists on standard recipes: Turn an "Alabama Slammer" into an "Abramoff Pokey" or a "Boilermaker" into a "Global Warmer."

Please email your handcrafted recipes and include your first name and chapter affiliation by February 9th.

Idiots Rule

Don't we all enjoy beginning the day this way?

Got to work and checked voicemail:

Hi, Ms. Robinson, this Blah-Blah, Junior Blah-Blah's mother. Since Blah-Blah has been suspended for five days, I've sent you three or four emails requesting his work. You have not responded. I am very, very disgusted and contacted your assistant principal. This is no way to treat a child who has been suspended. Please call me back because you are very unprofessional.

I could just throw up when people use the word very all the time. It's like very superfluous.

I called the b*tch back.

Me: Hi, Mrs. Blah-Blah. This is Catherine Robinson, Blah-Blah's teacher.

Her: Hi.

Me: I'm so glad you called and left a message because otherwise I wouldn't have known you were sending emails. You see, I never received them.

Her: Oh? Is your name with a "C" or a "K"?

Me: "C"

Her: Oh, I sent them to the wrong person!

(no shit.)

Me: Interesting.

(long pause)

Her: I was very angry.

Me: I could tell.

(long pause)

Me: I'll make sure your son's work is waiting in Student Affairs at the end of the day if you'd like to pick it up.

Her: Okay. Thanks. What time?

Me: The school day ends at 2:45pm.

I hung up the phone and cursed a little.

When you make an ass out of yourself and your child, the best thing to do is apologize. It's the very polite thing to do.

Just Say No

If you are about to medicate your children - beware. I'm all for better living through chemistry, but perhaps your darling angel should try self-control first. Here's why:

Children are a pain in the ass, especially when they won't sit still. Such children do best with parents who stay on top of them, demand discipline and provide consistent boundaries in which proper behavior is expected. If you choose to take the easy way out and dope 'em up instead, there is a very good chance your kids will come to depend on medication and never acquire the skills necessary to rope it in without pharmaceutical intervention.

Fast forward to high school and said medicine begins to bother them. Side effects include droopy dinkidoos, weight gain, and acne - which combine to make teenage years even more challenging and heart breaking. Plus Druggies get made fun of for exhibiting zombie-like characteristics. So they quit cold turkey.

I watch your children try to make it through a typical class period. These Walking Life Lessons can't concentrate, so instead they:

- fashion silver gum wrappers into grills.
- twitch and stretch and move at least one part of their bodies every ten seconds.
- talk to imaginary friends or themselves or their classmates. Often inappropriately. Almost always despite the fact I've asked them to be quiet.
- put pens into their bracelets and aim them like Spiderman at kids who are trying to concentrate.
- disrupt the class. Every day. Without fail.

This is not high school behavior. So I call home, conference with the kid, move them to different desks - doesn't matter. They take themselves with them wherever they go. So I write referrals, conduct behavior analyses and eventually remove them from a traditional classroom setting.

They've never been taught to sit still and pay attention and when meds wear off, we've got a certain population that cannot function properly.

Once again, parents, do your job. And if popping pills is the only solution, be prepared for trouble later on. Or lifetime addiction. Whichever you'd prefer.

Never Before...

The Humane Society is reporting good news for pigs and pig eaters:

Smithfield Foods, Inc., the nation's largest pork producer with 1.2 million breeding sows, announced today it will phase out the confinement of pigs in gestation crates over the next decade.

To learn more about this remarkable news for these intelligent, social farm animals, click here. Thank you for all you do for animals every day--please consider this your victory as well.

To those who dig on swine - may you devour your sausages with just a little less guilt.

Ten years from now, I mean. Why ten years to start practicing more humane farming? Oh well, better than nothing I suppose.

Justice and Fair Treatment for All

I started this blog because I wanted to contribute a verse. Sometimes I whine and moan, other times attack. Once in a while, I make you laugh.

Being inherently solution-based, I'd also like to encourage change through social action. You know. Like do something rather than just complain.

For example, I can't think of a reason not to condemn holocaust denial. Such idiots offend me as a Jewish woman and as a teacher as well. Condemning them is quick, painless, and can be done while eating lunch.

Happy lunchtime condemning, peeps!

If It's Free It's for Me

People ask, "Why do you teach?"

Well, in addition to mythical summers off and work day ending at 2pm, we can also say "Free movies b*tch!"

From AMC Theatres:

In appreciation of teachers across the nation who give endlessly and enrich
so many lives, AMC and Paramount Pictures are offering teachers* an exclusive
opportunity to see the highly acclaimed film "FREEDOM WRITERS" for FREE.

Dates: January 26 to February 1, 2007

To receive one free ticket to see the film, teachers must present a
school-issued ID or pay stub and a valid photo ID.

Passes to school teachers will be provided on a first-come,
first-served basis, while supplies last at participating theatres in the AMC
system including: AMC Loews theatres, AMC Star theatres, AMC Magic Johnson
theatres and AMC Cineplex Odeon theatres throughout the United States. Limit one
pass per school teacher. Please arrive early.

*Teachers for grades kindergarten through 12 are eligible for
this offer.

I'm not saying get in the door and see Dreamgirls instead. No, you didn't hear that from me.

h/t Tiffany

Might As Well Face It

Bush also dropped the ball the other night when discussing global climate change. Clean coal and nuclear energy? What a crock of sh*t.

According to Greenpeace, the time has come for an energy (r)evolution. Join their campaign and tell your Congressional representatives that we need real solutions to end global warming.

Takes less than a minute. Pinky swear.

It's So On

All kinds of people up in arms about Dubya's State of the Union. Especially people itching to take his job.

Tom Vilsack: "Despite the change of power in Congress and a public appetite for dramatic change, there was simply nothing new offered last night -- and a sincere opportunity lost.

Immigration reform, our growing healthcare crisis, unprecedented levels of income inequality, energy costs and shortages, and the environment -- the list of urgent issues we face here at home goes on and on. He even completed his speech without mentioning the single greatest domestic failure of his Administration –- the federal government’s inept response to Hurricane Katrina.

After six years of talk, still no action and no progress."

John Edwards: "(We've) got a full page ad in today's edition of the D.C. newspaper Roll Call showing Congress that -- despite what Bush says -- their constituents know they have the power to stop the proposed escalation in Iraq, and we expect them to do so. Click here to see the ad you made possible."

Democracy for America has been asking for feedback, input and advice as they put together a plan to end the war and retake the White House. You can review the DFA agenda here.

And finally, because freedom can't defend itself, the ACLU has a menu of items to rant and rave about in the pages of your local paper.

The time is now. Or tomorrow. Completely up to you.

"Relieve the pain without the shame."

I've decided to post more frequently. Cause I've got all this information to share about local and liberal politics, parenting, and underwear that eats gas.

You heard me.

Have my siblings or cousins been telling stories?

Not sure why my friend Sheila thought of me when she saw these abnormally large and unattractive panties. However, maybe we can all benefit from such technology. Does this modern miracle muffle sound as well?

Oh, and I'm done with the Beastie Boys titles. Right now anyway. Check back soon!

Intergalatic

Theology with Seven Year-Olds

"Is God Christian?" Youngest asked.

"How the hell should I know?" I said.

Kidding. Relax.

"I'm not sure sweetie," I said. "God sort of represents everyone. And we aren't all Christian."

"So he's half-Christian and half-Jewish," Oldest reasoned.

"What about Muslims?" I asked. "Doesn't God represent them?"

Youngest smiled.

"Mahdi is Muslim and he's my best friend sometimes. So God's Muslim, Christian and Jewish."

"What about Hindus and Buddhists?" I said. "There's some truth there as well."

Both kids looked confused.

"I don't know about them," Oldest said.

"Listen, I think we should concentrate on life," I said, "and when we die and meet the Big Guy, perhaps then we'll get answers."

"Is that what happens when we die?" Youngest asked. "We go to heaven?"

Christ, I thought. I need a drink.

"Again, I'm not really sure," I said. "Maybe we go to heaven. Lots of people believe that's what happens if we're good. Other people believe in reincarnation. Like if we rock here on earth we come back as rock stars or something."

"And what if we don't rock?"

"Then we come back as flies."

Both kids laugh. I know. Mommy's crazy.

"I don't want to come back as a fly," Oldest said.

"Me neither," I said. "So we better rock."

"Mommy," Youngest said, "why did God make us? And if we die and come back then we won't get answers for a long time."

I silently prayed for a seizure. Could use the rest and all.

"I think we're here to love and be loved. Make the world a better place. And I'm sure the mysteries of the universe will unfold in due time," I said after it became clear that I wasn't going to pass out, no matter how hard I tried.

Silence.

I continued.

"Guys, I don't really have the answers. I'm trying to figure it all out, too. And to be quite honest, how can I explain heaven when the toaster remains a mystery?"

Both kids laughed again. I know. Mommy's crazy.

One Man's Ceiling is Another Man's Floor

Received this email from a friend and tweaked it to make it my own. Enjoy:

Dinner guests were sitting around the table discussing life. One man, a
CEO, decided to explain the problem with education. He argued, "What's a kid
going to learn from someone who decided his best option in life was to become a
teacher?"

He reminded the other dinner guests what they say about teachers:
"Those who can, do. Those who can't, teach."

To stress his point he said to another guest; "You're a teacher, Bonnie. Be
honest. What do you make?"

Bonnie paused for a second, then began,

"I make kids work harder than they ever thought they could.
I make kids sit through 40 minutes of class time when their parents can't make
them sit for 5 without an I Pod, Game Cube or movie rental.
I make kids wonder.
I make them question.
I make them criticize.
I make them apologize and mean it.
I make them have respect and take responsibility for
their actions.
I make them write.
I make them read, read, read.
I make them show all their work in math.
I make my students from other
countries learn everything they need to know in English while preserving their
unique cultural identity.
I make my classroom a place where all my students feel safe.
I make them understand that if they use the gifts they were
given, work hard, and follow their hearts, they can succeed in life.
Then, when people try to judge me by what I make, I can hold my head up high and pay no attention because they are ignorant.
You want to know what I make?
I MAKE A DIFFERENCE. What do you make?"

Put that in your pipe and suck it.

You've Gone Wet Look Crazy

Stalkers are apparently a problem.

The Tampa Tribune featured a story about one such animal who called his ex-girlfriend over 7000 times. Brother needs a life. Favorite quote: "You will choose to allow me to love you or will choose to have us destroy each other! There is no halfway point in my entitlement with you."

Sounds like my parents' 1969 marriage vows.

There are those who believe we need stronger anti-stalking laws. Nonsense! We need stronger women. Granted, I don't have the "come stalk me" vibe or measurements (yet); however, how hard can it be to get rid of someone? I have plenty of ideas. Work with me, girls.

If someone is lurking,

- pick your nose or ass. If they are in the car next to you with a camera, wipe your fingers on the window and laugh hysterically until they drive away.

- pretend you are a cow and get down on all fours. Then start eating grass. Tried this once when I was in high school. Dude thought I was *insane*. I blamed it on mushrooms.

- wear Daisy Dukes - two sizes too small - support hose and slippers while sweeping the driveway. Bend over. A lot.

- return their phone calls and say, "You know what I was thinking?" and then fart in the phone. Laugh like a crazy woman and hang up. Do this every night for a month.

- find out where they work and call them every day at lunchtime. Cry real loud and blow your nose into the phone.

- wait for them in the parking lot after work with a boom-box blasting In Your Eyes by Peter Gabriel. Tried this once in college. Dude thought I was *insane*. I blamed it on mushrooms. Then we got married. So forget this idea.

- email every hour with inappropriate quotes from The Bell Jar and close-up shots of your labia. Between wax jobs. Under fluorescent lighting. Smoking a cigarette. (Don't ask, just do. Works like a charm.)

- meet face-to-face after you haven't showered or brushed your teeth for several days. Invade his personal space and order salad. Then smile with lettuce between your teeth. Pull his ear hair and scratch yourself several times.

Anyone can be disgusting and unattractive with just a little bit of effort. Trust me, I know. Don't make me show you the pictures.

Respect to the End

Today is the anniversary of Roe v. Wade and progressive bloggers are talking about why they're pro-choice. I invite you to share your own stories. Here is mine:

Like any good raised-Catholic girl, I memorized the anti-choice line to recite to my thirteen year-old friends. Becky wasn't buying it. She countered every theological question with reasoned argument until we agreed to disagree and went back to talking about Duran Duran.

Senior year in high school, one of our friends got pregnant. Daisy* wasn't ready to be a mother and chose to have an abortion. I didn't hesitate to support her decision. I also happened to agree with it. Of course, along the way it occurred to me that Daisy wasn't alone.

And that's when I became pro-choice.

Several years later, during my college quest to find myself, I completed the jump by working at Tampa Woman's Health Center. Started out as a Peer Counselor, holding the hands of frightened women as they faced the most difficult decision of their lives. Taught me a great deal about compassion, integrity, and withholding judgment. I also learned about this controversial procedure from beginning to end and decided that women everywhere should have options. As an advocate for my patients, sometimes they had to be turned away. Abortion wasn't right for everyone and if a woman seemed to be coerced or unsure, no one wanted her in that clinic. Sometimes she came back more determined. Other times - disappeared for good.

I worked with brave physicians who withstood harassment and death threats in order to provide a needed service to hundreds of grateful women. I appeared on local talk shows and argued for choice. I marched on Washington.

Also walked out of a NOW meeting because the speaker dared to label pro-life women "weak and pathetic". Wouldn't have it. You see, pro-life women raised me to kick ass and take names. Not a weak one among 'em. I happen to disagree with them about when life begins and believe women need a safe and legal choice. However, I will not participate in demonizing the other side because that'd make me as bad as Coulter. And I can't have that either.

So here we are. Abortion is safe. And legal. And under attack.

I've said it before and I'll say it again - before Roe v. Wade - the abortion issue was lobbied fiercely. And those fighting hardest for legalization was a group of emergency room physicians. Imagine for a moment what they must have seen to make so many - even those personally committed to being pro-life - fight to take abortions out of back alleys. Just imagine.

And that's why we won't go back.

Dropping Science

"Go Pats!"



From my Boston boys.

And Now I've Got to Pass the Mic

We've got Barack Obama, Tom Vilsack and John Edwards.

Who am I missing?

Not Like a Fever, Not Like a Cold

Teenagers should have access to information outlining basic facts about sex, pregnancy, and sexually transmitted diseases. From NARAL:

Now, I'm asking you to get involved to make changes in school districts across
the country and help fight teen pregnancy by finding out what's really being
taught in public schools. Whether you are a parent, student, or a community
member, as a tax-paying citizen you have a right to know what your public
schools are teaching - and you don't even need a camera crew or a microphone.

Just use these easy-to-follow instructions, and please collect and
mail to NARAL Pro-Choice America the sex-education curriculum from your local
school by February 8.

In the months ahead, NARAL Pro-Choice America
will work with key members of Congress to build support for medically accurate
sex education. With the new leadership in Congress, we've got our best chance in
years to make a difference!

Let's seize this unique opportunity to give Congress the real story! Click here to
get started.

h/t Elizabeth

Gonna Stun and Amaze

I have it all. Almost anyway.

Kind, healthy and happy children. A loving husband and family. Friends who get me. A rewarding career where I reach out and touch the future. Writing that kicks people in the ass and is respected by writers I respect. The balls to affect change through social action. A winning smile. Hell of a rack. And you.

What else can a girl ask for?

A tight tummy and an even better rack.

I exercise every day - hard core routines where I get all sweaty and Jennifer Beals-like. Back to my pre-pregnancy weight and, thanks to maximum-strength undergarments, I look fetching in a miniskirt. However, I carried twins and nursed them simultaneously. Therefore when I take my clothes off and strike a pose, innocent bystanders might notice blood leaking through their eyeballs and then BAM! Instant blindness.

Unlike your personality defects, my flaws are easily fixed. All I need is about twenty grand and good pain tolerance.

Check and check.

Dr. Berger is scheduled to work his magic on March 12, 2007 and we're counting it down with great fanfare, nip/tuck parties and mammograms. Stay tuned, lovers. Because you don't bounce back from this...


without surgical intervention.

Funky Boss - Part Two

MaryEllen Elia, superintendent of public schools in Hillsborough County, addressed schedule changes recently in The Tampa Tribune. Although she doesn't mention my initial piece, her attempt to cloud the issue on more than one occasion requires my response.

MaryEllen Elia is changing high school schedules next year to comply with new class-size rules and, as a result, more than a few people are alarmed. The benefits she lists are dubious at best. Forcing experienced educators to forgo valuable planning time will not benefit our students. We need more teachers to keep up with a large population, yet Ms. Elia would rather save money. She wants to “use those savings to increase employee salaries.” Such a boast is worded quite carefully. Teachers need help from an increased educating force, Ms. Elia, not empty promises.

It is inconceivable that anyone in education would compare the hardworking but vastly different professionals teaching in our elementary schools with those in our high schools. Elementary teachers deal with 35 – 40 students while high school teachers juggle close to 120 students or more each day. Our superintendent should defend her argument with better examples than pitting teacher against teacher in the court of public opinion.

Ms. Elia also underestimates the awareness of our high school students by suggesting that most won’t notice a difference next year. More than a few teachers are worried they won’t have time to sponsor popular service clubs anymore. How many of our students will notice that?

Our best, most qualified, and most effective teachers are saying enough and yet Ms. Elia dismisses such concerns with a thinly veiled attack, suggesting we don’t take into account what’s best for our students. Is our superintendent so far removed from the classroom that she actually believes demanding more for less from teachers will benefit anyone?

Ms. Elia, this state continues to lag behind others in educational excellence and yet you refuse to take into account the very legitimate concerns of your students, their parents, and most teachers. Take a look around. Who’s saying “yes” besides you?

We're Knockin' Out Teeth - Part Two

"It's all fun and games 'till someone starts spittin' Chiclets."

For the sake of equal time, be it hereby proclaimed that my oldest finally lost his first tooth this past weekend.

Well, not so much *lost* as was *punched out by his brother*.

Apparently when two seven year-olds watch Rocky and Rocky II, they will act out bone-crushing scenes which inevitably lead to punches which inevitably lead to missing teeth.

I missed them so much. Really. I did.

Here We Go Again

Shortly after moving to Florida in 1981, fellow classmates at Young Junior High said I needed to pick a side.

University of Florida or Florida State University. One or the other. Couldn't be both.

Hmmm....decisions, decisions. I looked around at all the Gator fans and immediately went the other way. I know. Explains a lot about me and is fairly consistent with my character. The masses are asses. Therefore I almost always choose differently. This is part of my charm.

I think.

At any rate, I never looked back. Even while attending University of South Florida, I remained a Seminoles fan. After all, we didn't have a football team back then and I enjoyed traveling to Gainesville with Julie and Cathy and sticking it to the Gator guys.

Funny story: One year, we were driving through the crowd filtering out from a game (FSU won) and saw a ninety year-old woman all decked out in Gator garb. She had the Gator hat, Gator sweats, Gator mug, and Gator flag. Julie leaned out the window and yelled,

"Hey Grandma, I'll give you a quarter for the whole outfit!"

The woman damn-near sprinted over to my car, grabbed my little Subaru Justy, shook it and screamed,

"F*ck you, FSU!"

As God as my witness, we barely made it out alive.

You may have heard recently that University of Florida won a fairly important football game. I rooted for UF over Ohio State because I live in Florida and try to abide by this guiding principle in life: Always support the home team. When UF won, I even clapped my hands. A little.

However, enough is enough. Enough with the front pages of newspapers taped to the halls of my high school. Enough with the rallies and knick-knacks. Get along with the doggie nonsense. And if I hear "It's Great to be a Florida Gator" one more time...

Several students have been wearing self-congratulating Gator crap since their most recent victory. New shirts, sweatshirts, pants...every f*cking day. Finally, I said to one of them,

"Okay. You guys are way too proud of yourselves. Wear something different tomorrow. Please."

Asshole turned up the next day in a Yankees shirt.

I hate them all.

Nor Do I Play Like I'm Hard

Everyone expected me to cry before the weekend was over.

"You'll hate being alone."

"After a few hours, it'll seem too quiet."

"Freedom ain't all it's cracked up to be."

Nonsense, my friends. Nonsense.

Every woman needs some alone time to recharge her batteries, bust a move, and clear away the cobwebs. Feel me? When everyone left Saturday morning, I felt momentary pangs of guilt. What kind of person stays home while her entire family - parents, siblings, children, and spouse -hangs in Denver (read: one degree weather) for three days? I watched them walk into the airport and remembered what my sister said,

"Mommy time isn't selfish, Kate. It's survival."

Godd*mn right. So long suckers!

I spent three glorious days getting to know myself all over again. But more on love toys later. This is a family show.

I:

- enjoyed friends I adore and never once had to glance at the clock.

- cleaned my house (second favorite thing to do) and each square inch stayed clean for more than just two hours. A boys' bathroom that doesn't smell like urine is a beautiful thing.

- tried to find a vegetarian Cuban sandwich (Tommy's idea) but gave up after the fifth person laughed and said something dirty in Spanish. I'm guessing. Could have been French.

- fired my realtor because enough is enough. Need an aggressive broker this time who will work his/her ass off and reunite our family - June at the latest. Can I get an Amen? Please?

- watched Dreamgirls (Eddie Murphy deserves an Oscar and Jennifer Hudson made me wish I hadn't boycotted American Idol at least during her episodes) and then snuck into The Holiday (cause Jack Black is hot). Right. That's my defense and I'm sticking to it.

- danced around my house to "Funky Cold Medina."

- treated myself to a manicure, pedicure, and facial at Serenity Spa and walked away feeling like a brand new woman. All serene and sh*t.

- didn't exercise or eat right or wear pajamas.

These are the days to remember. And now I'm ready to welcome my boys back and carry on like a grownup. Lost weekend indeed.

...and not turn away.

Repeat post, but appropriate.

There are plenty of ways to pay tribute to Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. today.

In the Tampa Bay area alone, events scheduled include the entire family. A parade today, for example. However, I can't help but wonder: Is a parade and celebration the best way to honor Dr. King? Go ahead and roll your eyes, but consider this: Dr. King talked about dreams and ways to make them come true. What would he do with a day off?

Unfortunately, many places require young volunteers to be at least
twelve years old. My kids have another five to go. If old enough and so
inclined, call the Tampa-Hillsborough Urban League at 229.8117 and see if there
isn't some way you can help. In your own corner of the world there are ways to
contribute and push a stroller at the same time.

Go downtown and:
-- Clean up a park.
-- Bring old books and magazines to any assisted-living
facility or homeless shelter.
-- Take some stuff you were saving for a
garage sale and donate the items to Goodwill instead.
-- Serve food at a soup kitchen.
-- Take your kids to a nursing home and let them hang out with
older folks. The stories are better than anything showing on television.

These are just some ideas. Feel free to come up with your own and do
some good for the neighborhood.

Get Funky

My brother's best friend Sloan is traveling the world with his girlfriend Amy and recording their adventures here.

Don't let his snarkiness fool you, Sloan's a good kid. Wish them a safe trip and no more "Dehli Belly".

My cousin and only godchild, Danny, started his own site as well. Check it: the kid graduated from West Point, is currently serving our country, married a girl of Persian descent, and is against bad taste.

He does his godmother proud.

So check out the sites and leave me alone for a while. Gotta nap and all.

You Know She's Hardcore; She'll Show You Good Times, then She'll Show You the Door

Several peeps use the word "shiksa" when describing me. I hear it a lot.

"She's one annoying shiksa."

"Lingerie-wearing, vegetarian shiksa."

"Sorta cute, for a shiksa."

"Once a shiksa, always a shiksa."

But let's leave my in-laws out of it.

What is a shiksa? Officially, "shiksa" is used as a disparaging term for non-Jewish girl or woman.

I don't take offense, though, because I'm down with the hidden affection behind the term when used by men who love me. So there. However, for the sake of truth and wisdom, I must disclose that (no matter what my parents tell people) I am, in fact, a Jewish girl or woman. And, therefore, not a shiksa.

Officially.

So Jewish, despite the fact that I don't:

- wear fur.

- dig expensive jewelry.

- fake orgasms.

- whine or complain.

- jones for Miami in the winter.

Yes, I have Irish eyes and can drink anyone under the table. Yes, I know all the words to Danny Boy. And yes, I once answered to "Catherine Ann".

I am still the adopted daughter of Abraham and Sarah.

So call me "shiksa" if you want - I'll let you cause you're cute.

But I'm not a shiksa. Or a lady for that matter. But that's another post entirely.

In a World Gone Mad

Did you catch Bush's speech the other night? Do you support the idea that we need to send more soldiers to Iraq?

If you disagree, make your voices heard. Say no to Bush, his dirty war, and the failure that is his presidency.

If you stand behind the most inept administration in our country's history, you must not be paying attention. Therefore, sign up immediately for the Army and put your ass on the line instead of encouraging others to do so.

That is all.

Run Home Where You Feel Safe

As a kid, I learned not to go to mom for biting rhetoric. Support, hugs, wisdom for sure. But never a comeback. Wasn't her bag.

She came up with the worst retorts ever. I'm not kidding.

Example:

Sixth Grade - 1980

"How was your day dear?" she asked.

"Charlie made fun of me," I said. "Said I was ugly and no one would ever marry me."

"Tell him he doesn't know what he's talking about," she said.

"He'll just say, 'Oh yeah? Who's gonna marry you?'"

"Say 'John D. Rockefeller's nephew'."

I actually used that line the next day in school. And ate dirt afterwards.

Another example? Try this:

Ninth Grade - 1984

"How was your day dear?" she asked.

"Glenn called me titless in front of the whole class."

"Tell him to watch his mouth. He won't get into heaven with talk like that."

"Whatever you say, Mom. Wow. Meat loaf again?"

You get the idea. Bear this in mind as I relate the following. I am trying to help my children do better in the "Don't F*ck With Me" department. Doesn't every mother want that for her children?

My oldest and I had this conversation last night.

"How was your day dear?" I asked.

"Good. But Peter called me a donkey," he said.

"Oh yeah? Tell him you'd rather be a donkey than a donkey's ass."

That's what I'm talking about, baby.

Another example, this time with my youngest:

"How was your day dear?"

"I had a good day. Except Marshall keeps pushing me during lunch."

"Marshall sucks his thumb and wets the bed. He can't even talk properly. Have you seen his tongue? Tell Marshall to back off before you make his mouth worse."

I know. Mom of the year. My kids will thank me later.

They better. Or I'll have a few choice words for them, by God.

Turn it Out

From Karen Thurman, Florida Democratic Party Chair (big fan!):

At Jefferson-Jackson Weekend last July, I opened my Chair's Address by
declaring, "Change is in the air."

Months later, those winds of change swept through Florida and on to
Washington, carrying a larger and stronger Democratic delegation to
Congress.

Last week, I traveled to the U.S. Capitol to celebrate the swearing in of
Florida's newest members of Congress: Kathy Castor, Ron Klein and Tim Mahoney.
All three landed roles on key, powerful committees. You can read more about that
in our website's news section: www.fladems.com/headlines. They are off to a
fantastic start.

I also witnessed the election of the first female Speaker of the U.S. House
of Representatives. And, let me tell you, as a former female member of Congress,
it brought tears of joy to my eyes.

I am proud, and you should be, too. The Republican-held Congressional seats
Floridians took back, as well as Kathy Castor's election and the re-election of
Representatives Allen Boyd, Corrine Brown, Alcee Hastings, Kendrick Meek, Debbie
Wasserman-Schultz and Robert Wexler all contributed to the new Democratic
majority that created this historic moment. In addition, the re-election of
Senator Bill Nelson to the U.S. Senate will increase Florida's influence on
pressing matters such as Iraq.

Democrats are not wasting any time getting to the business of the American
people.

Yesterday, our Democrats made good on their promise to pass the bipartisan
9-11 Commission recommendations to improve our nation's security as part of the
first 100-hours agenda. Today, they fulfill a second promise: raising the
minimum wage for the first time in ten years. And there's still more to come
this week and next! I can't begin to explain how excited I am for this first 100
hours. You can read more about the Democrats' agenda at newly-elected House
Majority Leader Steny Hoyer's website: http://www.majorityleader.gov/

I hope everyone had a wonderful holiday season. I'll be in touch again
soon.

Here's to a successful session - both in DC and Tallahassee. For everyone, this time.

Never Let You Down With the Stereo Sound

This past Saturday I was doing the usual laundry/soccer/grocery shopping bullsh*t when I said to myself, "Self - you need a break. Two or three days with no parental responsibilities. A weekend doing something other than watching Star Wars and eating take-out pizza with two seven year-olds. Recharge your batteries a bit."

Right. Never gonna happen.

Then my mom drops this one on me: "If I can find reasonable tickets," she says, "can I take the boys with us on vacation?"

Didn't even hesitate.

"Go!" I said.

So now that tickets have been purchased and I'm going to have a well-deserved break in the not-too-distant future - I'm a little freaked out. What the f*ck am I going to do with myself for an entire weekend? Some ideas:

- Write a piece for the Trib called "How Katie Got Her Groove Back But Then Scared It Away Again"

- Clean

- Watch porn on the big TV with stereo sound

- Take a poop for the first time in over five years without someone knocking on the door to say, "Mommy, I have to tell you something"

- Clean

- Play the part of a local bar fly

I've got options right?

Mark my word, I'll have spent the entire break watching Star Wars, eating take-out pizza...

And cleaning.

My friend Jeff suggested: "You could schedule an evening of seductive, panties-optional ice cream posing. Ben and Jerry's would love that."

To which I replied: "That's a great idea, except I don't know how to work the timer thing on my camera. And the only people I feel comfortable asking would be my neighbor Lou. He's been divorced for *years* and one Big Mac away from heart failure. So I wouldn't want to risk it.

There's always my friend Lynda. Some wine, tasty treats...

Come to think of it. I better stick to Star Wars."

Instant Death

Here is another way to make the world a better place: be an organ donor.

So when you're dead, you're not really dead. Dig?

A dear relative (read: my mother) has been in health care most of her adult life. She's seen it all and if you think hospitals scare the sh*t out of you, talk to her for an hour. You'll suffer through any number of ailments before heading to your local St. Joe's again anytime soon.

Apparently, when a person is recently deceased, doctors quickly cut, reach in, grab organs and sh*t and my mother wonders if the poor b*stard can still *feel* what's going on.

"He/She is barely dead, Catherine."

Okay. Fine. Worst case scenario, you'll endure a bit of pain before death finally lets go. Kinda like your first boyfriend. At any rate, it'll only last about ten seconds and then your eyes, lungs, heart, spleen (I don't know) will miraculously help other people lead fuller lives. Not a bad legacy.

In other words, suck it up cupcake.

Or, more eloquently put (with my additions in bold, in case you were wondering):

Bury Only My Faults
Ed Shirley

The day will come, fingers crossed, when my body will lie upon a white sheet neatly tucked under four corners of a mattress located in a hospital busily occupied with the living, the dying, and my in-laws - dancing their asses
off. At a certain moment, a doctor will determine that my brain has
ceased to function and, for all practical purposes, my life has stopped. Hold your applause till the end.

When that happens, do not attempt to instill artificial life into my body by the use of a machine, (my Rabbit is a miracle worker, but come on), and don't call this my death bed. Let it be called the "Bed of Life" (insert favorite necrophiliac
joke here) and let my body be taken from it to help others lead normal
lives. (Heh, I said 'insert'.)

Give my eyes to the man who has never seen a sunrise, a baby's face, or love in a woman's eyes. No American Idol fans, though. I have standards.

Give my heart to a person whose own heart has caused nothing but endless days of pain. No carnivores, pussies or conservatives either. Work with me.

Give my blood to the teenager who was pulled from the wreckage of her car, so that she may live to see her children play. Just don't be surprised if she takes to "the drink" afterwards. My blood and all.

Give my kidneys to the one who depends on a machine to exist. This one will be a redneck, I know it. So tell him to lay off the cheap whiskey and Hee Haw reruns. Turn on the news every once in a while. Help a sister out.

Take my bones, every nerve and muscle in my body, and find a way to make a crippled child walk. If you'd also find a way to make breasts perky without surgical intervention, that'd be great.

Explore every corner of my brain. Impressed, I know. Take my cells, if necessary, and let them grow so that, someday, a speechless girl will shout at the crack of a bat and a deaf boy will hear the sound of a raindrop against his window. Publicize plans to clone me. Go on O'Reilley and say it's because my ass is perfect. Watch Bill's head explode.

Burn what is left and store the ashes alongside Husband's bed. Next to my life-size picture. In order to creep out fresh-smelling bimbos who come calling, hoping to "make the hurt go away".

If you must bury something, let it be my faults, my weaknesses, and all prejudices against my fellow man. Except that guy who barked at me in high school. F*ck that guy. Oh! And f*ck Italians, too.

If, by chance, you wish to remember me, do it with a kind deed or word
to someone who needs you or just giggle when someone busts ass on the
ice. Somewhere - I'm smiling. If you do all I ask, I will live forever. And I'm all about living forever, b*tches.

Where was I? Oh, right. Making the world a better place.

Be an organ donor. Or don't. Completely up to you.

This Time, I'm Losing My Mind

01.04.07 - worst morning ever.

Went to put on my engagement, wedding, and labor rings. Said rings weren't in my jewelry box. No biggie. Happens all the time. They're usually in my pants from the day before and easily accessible. Went into the hamper, pulled out a pair of pants and searched the pockets.

Nothing.

I sat there dumbfounded. I've had the engagement ring since 1991, wedding ring since 1995, and labor ring (one of those past, present and future numbers) since the boys were born in 2000.

"Mommy, whatcha lookin' for?" my oldest inquired.

"Rings," I said softly.

"Are they up your butt?" he asked, laughing.

I started to sob.

To clarify. I get teary-eyed from time to time. However, only two or three moments in life is it acceptable to cry the kind of cry where tears and snot run together into one's mouth.

That morning, apparently, was one of those moments.

My children rubbed my back and whispered, "I'm sorry" while I succumbed to a nervous breakdown, searching through dirty clothes and way too many panties. After about ten minutes, still nothing. So I continued crying during the entire ride to drop them off at school. I've never seen my kids so quiet.

Should cry every day, now that I think about it.

Called colleagues and asked them to look around my desk.

"There's nothing on your desk, Katie," one co-worker said. "You make Martha Stewart look unorganized."

Another said,

"They'll turn up somewhere. Maybe you put them under something."

"You've seen my house," I snapped. "There's nothing to put them under! No clutter of any kind! I'm allergic to debris! Where the f*ck are they?'

Husband had the best comment.

"Perhaps you left them on someone's nightstand."

Everyone's a comedian when I'm heartbroken and choking on my own phlegm. It occurred to me somewhere on Veteran's Expressway that I didn't check the right pants. A ray of hope that perhaps these sentimental items were not forever gone.

Got home after work and checked the pants. Rings were safely tucked inside. All was right with the world.

Then it hit me.

My six year-old actually said, "...up your butt?"

It's Never Quittin' Time

Seven years ago I was at Massachusetts General Hospital dealing with a ton of medical issues just to bring two babies into the world.

And here they are.

And now I'm in Tampa dealing with a ton of emotional issues just to raise them right.

Happy birthday babies. You sometimes drive me bananas. But I love you more than anything in the world.

Check the Tint

Yesterday I got to work and discovered an envelope in my mailbox - no return address, handwriting screams "special needs", you know the drill.

A hater.


Handwriting looks familiar. Do we have a repeat offender here? Perhaps. I especially appreciate that this person waited through winter break to mail his love letter. That's dedication to the cause.

Which cause? I have no idea.

I'm Going to Tell on You

Dear Disruptive Student,

You:
- are a bully.
- refuse to work.
- make clicking sounds or bang your desk or tap the wall or stomp your feet when I'm helping someone else.
- snore loudly.
- are lazy.
- have lousy taste in friends.
- proudly maintain a zero grade point average.
- snicker when other students ask questions.
- announce after eight weeks of daydreaming, "You don't teach the right way." Then your grandmother calls and say it's my fault you are unmotivated. Sometimes she calls my principal.
- a complete waste of space.
- have parents who don't love you.
- will make everyone pay for it.
- burp or pass gas when the room is quiet and kids are working.
- are lazy, disrespectful and rude
- pretend the ringing cell phone isn't coming from your pants or backpack or purse.
- mumble, "They don't give a sh*t" when I threaten to call home.
- are almost always right.
- enjoy getting a rise out of me or other students. I can control *me* quite easily; however, it's difficult controlling teenagers who want to kill you.

For these reasons and many more, please, stop coming to school. Keep your sad, sorry ass at home with those who are responsible for your particular brand of bullsh*t.

I appreciate it,
Your Annoyed and Nearly-Medicated Teacher

Cause You Know it's Got Clout to It

Maya Angelou wrote and read her thought-provoking poem when Bill Clinton was inaugurated. Inspirational and moving, she brought me to tears.

It was either that or the pot.

Recently, another African-American poet, this time from Tampa, read inaugural verse - for Charlie Crist.

A MEETING OF THE PEOPLE
BY JAMES E. TOKLEY, SR.

From the oaks of
Wewahitchka to the palms of Lauderdale
From the hills of Tallahassee to the
fertile Brandon fields
From the shores of Sarasota, snowy-white,
pollution-free
To the island of Key Largo, as it looks upon the sea
We
have come here as the people
And we stand before you, now
Not
Republican, nor Democrat, but we meet as one, somehow
And our minds are
independent, based upon a greater sight
As one people, we step forward and
prepare to take the mike
As one state, which is united by its greatness yet
to be,
Do we stand here now excited, on the steps of history
Do we claim
a common legacy based upon the kindred goals
of a universal freedom anchored
deeply in our soul!
So, let the voice who speaks, this morning
not
forget from whence it came
Let it resonate a language that bespeaks each
family name
Let its bloodline come from Cyprus, let it habla Espanol
Let
it parle Francais from Haiti, or intone a German brogue
Let its words
bespeak the Native blood that courses through our veins
or the words of
Black Floridians, forged in freedom, unrestrained
And let it draw upon the
spirit of the Florida pioneers
Let the dream that pressed them forward be
the anthem that we hear
And may the one who is about to speak bespeak the
common cause
of a state where love of Liberty is our most precious law
Let our children grow like saplings, planted from a righteous seed
Placed first within the nation, where each one classroom child can read!
May the roof and walls of Brotherhood protect us from the rain
Insuring
through calamity that our living is not in vain
And let whomever wonders
what we feel, upon this day
Be assured by the growing numbers who march with
us, on our way!
For, today, we pray a different prayer and sing a special
song
. . .a song that speaks for Dignity to carry us along
A song that
argues for respect for every human being
That sees in every citizen a noble
king or queen.
From the streets of Ybor City to the port of Tarpon Springs
From the noble town of Archer to the great St. Augustine
From Orlando to
Miami may our voices rise to say/ we
may be twenty million people, but we
speak as one, today
And may the one who represents us never cease to
understand
that we meet here, as the People. For, indeed, this is our land!

Good stuff. I still like Maya's though. Oh. And Robert Frost wasn't so bad either.

h/t to AP

So I Have Someone to Talk To

"I guess it's cool to be alone."

Monday, driving to the Denver airport, we listened to one of my favorite albums. These songs will always remind me of winter in Boston. Walking through the Common with my headset on and discussing the lyrics later with Husband, Ben and Dalia over dinner in the North End.

Did we ever decide what this song is about?

At any rate:

Apathy.
Melancholy.
Bitterness.
Broken Heart.

Just shut your eyes and imagine it's not a balmy 75 degrees. Are there better songs that evoke winter chills? (Please. This will never do.)

Brass Monkey

It's great to be back in Florida.

No seriously. F*cking great.

We're Knockin' Out Teeth

I can already tell 2007 is going to be a banner year.

Last night, my youngest came to me amidst our celebration and said that his bottom tooth hurt. Said he couldn't eat dinner because it was loose and painful.

"Needs to be pulled," I said. "Want me to do it? I'll yank it right out of your head."

Kid said okay and we went into the bathroom. Then he changed his mind, grabbed a hold of it himself and did the deed. No muss, no fuss.


Cutest. Smile. Ever.

Made his mama proud.