Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Finally Got Graded
I FINALLY received my mark from when I submitted that short story about the alcoholic. I got a 97% which is nice, but overall I'm disappointed because it was a different instructor who marked my work. Mildred so-and-so marked my first two pieces, and requested that I send my next piece to her specifically, so I did, but then some person named Simone graded me.
I spelled the word focused wrong, (focussed) and I missed one comma. She said wonderful things about my writing, but because she's never read any of my other work, she has nothing to compare it to. She didn't say that to me, I'm just being speculative. I guess I was really hoping to impress Mildred.
Anyway, I guess now that's out of the way I'll actually start to write my next piece. I had a few ideas in mind, some of which include a story about a hoarder, a taboo romance in the newsroom, or lately, I've been thinking about writing about anthropomorphism. The story would be about a crazy cat lady who thinks her feline companion is way more intelligent that he actually is. The story would progress to show just how outrageous the situation is.
Not much else to say, but I know some of you were wondering what sort of feedback I was going to get on the story.
I spelled the word focused wrong, (focussed) and I missed one comma. She said wonderful things about my writing, but because she's never read any of my other work, she has nothing to compare it to. She didn't say that to me, I'm just being speculative. I guess I was really hoping to impress Mildred.
Anyway, I guess now that's out of the way I'll actually start to write my next piece. I had a few ideas in mind, some of which include a story about a hoarder, a taboo romance in the newsroom, or lately, I've been thinking about writing about anthropomorphism. The story would be about a crazy cat lady who thinks her feline companion is way more intelligent that he actually is. The story would progress to show just how outrageous the situation is.
Not much else to say, but I know some of you were wondering what sort of feedback I was going to get on the story.
Sunday, February 14, 2010
Daydreaming
I would have to say that I daydream for more hours in a day than the average person. I decided that I should probably look that statistic up just in case I was fooling myself. On one website (Daydreaming Encyclopedia) The average person daydreams once ever 90 minutes peaking somewhere between noon and 2 pm. Daydreams usually only last a few minutes
I definitely daydream way more than that in a day! Some psychologists estimate people daydream anywhere from 15% - 50% of their day. I'm probably on the higher end of that scale. As many people know, I startle quite easily. The reason why is because I am often daydreaming. Anytime I am jolted away from my thoughts, either by calling my name softly, or a light tap on the shoulder, I usually respond by screaming, jumping, or both simultaneously.
Some people laugh and think it's funny, others are genuinely sorry to have frightened me, but most don't realize that I was deep in thought and daydreaming.
A lot of people consider daydreaming to be pleasant activity. It can be triggered by anything and offers a quick escape from reality. Sometimes it's just the trick you need to relive your brain from a very boring task you are in the middle of. Sometimes daydreaming helps you as an artist; music, literature, art...
I have to say though, not all of my daydreams are pleasant. I often have scary or upsetting daydreams that make me feel paranoid or even cry.
For example, this evening I attended a march in support of Winnipeg's Murdered and Missing Women. When I get back to the station I started googling Winnipeg's most wanted list, unsolved murders, and missing children. I started daydreaming about what would happen if someone were to abduct me from the CBC, take me somewhere remote, hog-tie me, rape me, stab me, torture me, leave me to freeze in a shed, or in a field... What would I do to defend myself or what actions would I take to save myself? If I knew I was going to die, what clues would I try to leave behind so they would catch my murderer? I went through several different scenarios. I didn't even know how much time had passed.
The phone rang and it was a man asking to speak to someone I didn't recognize. I said wrong number and hung up the phone. Then a different phone in the building rang. I answered it and it was the guy who listens to the scanner from his house. He told me about a crash that just happened. My whole body was trembling.
I started packing up my gear and getting ready, all the while terrified of leaving the safety of the CBC. I could possible get kidnapped and killed walking to the van.
I took two steps outside when I heard someone yell, "HEY YOU!" from down the street. I whipped my head around, surly a serial killer had found me and was ready to shoot me on the spot. It was actually a guy in a taxi calling out to his friend on the sidewalk.
I daydreamed some more while driving to the crash location. I daydreamed while getting viz of the crash. By the time I started driving back to the station, my daydream shifted to something more positive: surviving the abduction. I started to feel better about not being on some hit list.
I started laughing. I couldn't believe I had worked myself up to a point where I had truly scared myself into a useless frenzy.
I'm not sure why I have such intense daydreams all the time, but it could be linked my childhood. I daydreamed often growing up and played a lot of make-believe games. There were many happy/positive daydreams, but I do remember having some really frightening daydreams as well about things I didn't know much about and scared me: the universe, black holes, death, God, heaven, hell, and many other topics.
Apparently how you daydream as a child affects how you daydream as an adult. Children plagued by negative or scary daydreams will grow up feeling anxiety and that carries through to their adulthood.
Surprisingly, when it comes to nightmares, that's not something I've had many of. Even as a child I didn't have nightmares. I was plagued by having upsetting daydreams just before bed, stopping me from actually falling asleep. I used to be afraid of dying in my sleep. I'd run to mommy claiming I had a nightmare, or else mom thought I was just having a nightmare.
I'd had enough about talking about this. I'm off to bed.
P.S. I bought a "Carmen Electra Dance Pole" if anyone's interested. Cost me $144 altogether.
I definitely daydream way more than that in a day! Some psychologists estimate people daydream anywhere from 15% - 50% of their day. I'm probably on the higher end of that scale. As many people know, I startle quite easily. The reason why is because I am often daydreaming. Anytime I am jolted away from my thoughts, either by calling my name softly, or a light tap on the shoulder, I usually respond by screaming, jumping, or both simultaneously.
Some people laugh and think it's funny, others are genuinely sorry to have frightened me, but most don't realize that I was deep in thought and daydreaming.
A lot of people consider daydreaming to be pleasant activity. It can be triggered by anything and offers a quick escape from reality. Sometimes it's just the trick you need to relive your brain from a very boring task you are in the middle of. Sometimes daydreaming helps you as an artist; music, literature, art...
I have to say though, not all of my daydreams are pleasant. I often have scary or upsetting daydreams that make me feel paranoid or even cry.
For example, this evening I attended a march in support of Winnipeg's Murdered and Missing Women. When I get back to the station I started googling Winnipeg's most wanted list, unsolved murders, and missing children. I started daydreaming about what would happen if someone were to abduct me from the CBC, take me somewhere remote, hog-tie me, rape me, stab me, torture me, leave me to freeze in a shed, or in a field... What would I do to defend myself or what actions would I take to save myself? If I knew I was going to die, what clues would I try to leave behind so they would catch my murderer? I went through several different scenarios. I didn't even know how much time had passed.
The phone rang and it was a man asking to speak to someone I didn't recognize. I said wrong number and hung up the phone. Then a different phone in the building rang. I answered it and it was the guy who listens to the scanner from his house. He told me about a crash that just happened. My whole body was trembling.
I started packing up my gear and getting ready, all the while terrified of leaving the safety of the CBC. I could possible get kidnapped and killed walking to the van.
I took two steps outside when I heard someone yell, "HEY YOU!" from down the street. I whipped my head around, surly a serial killer had found me and was ready to shoot me on the spot. It was actually a guy in a taxi calling out to his friend on the sidewalk.
I daydreamed some more while driving to the crash location. I daydreamed while getting viz of the crash. By the time I started driving back to the station, my daydream shifted to something more positive: surviving the abduction. I started to feel better about not being on some hit list.
I started laughing. I couldn't believe I had worked myself up to a point where I had truly scared myself into a useless frenzy.
I'm not sure why I have such intense daydreams all the time, but it could be linked my childhood. I daydreamed often growing up and played a lot of make-believe games. There were many happy/positive daydreams, but I do remember having some really frightening daydreams as well about things I didn't know much about and scared me: the universe, black holes, death, God, heaven, hell, and many other topics.
Apparently how you daydream as a child affects how you daydream as an adult. Children plagued by negative or scary daydreams will grow up feeling anxiety and that carries through to their adulthood.
Surprisingly, when it comes to nightmares, that's not something I've had many of. Even as a child I didn't have nightmares. I was plagued by having upsetting daydreams just before bed, stopping me from actually falling asleep. I used to be afraid of dying in my sleep. I'd run to mommy claiming I had a nightmare, or else mom thought I was just having a nightmare.
I'd had enough about talking about this. I'm off to bed.
P.S. I bought a "Carmen Electra Dance Pole" if anyone's interested. Cost me $144 altogether.
Saturday, February 13, 2010
Pole Dance II
Pole Dance roman numeral I wrapped up today! The instructor, Danielle, let me wear her four inch heels during class since some kitties decided to pee in the closet where I keep my shoes. I haven't had time to investigate what all has been ruined, but it looks as though they just peed in a plastic Value Village bag I used to keep my skates in.
In Pole Dance II we learn a lot more spins as well as different ways to get up from off the floor while still looking hot and sexy. To supplement the Saturday class, I've decided to also sign up for Strengthening and Stretching. It's a class that deals specifically with training your hands, upper body, and core for doing pole dancing better and safer.
I've got flabby girl arms, so this class should hopefully help. I have those free weights at home, but I've only been using them once or twice a week, and it's hard to work out the specific muscles needed for pole dancing when you don't own a pole.
I'm blogging this at work and I just tried to look up the cost of buying and installing a stripper pole for at home use, but CBC has blocked all the websites I'm trying to look at. Poles cost upwards of $200 I think. There are different kinds, so it all depends.
I think I might actually get a removable pole for the apartment. It's either that or a $5000 elliptical I've had my eye on, but frankly, I can't afford that right now. A pole, however, is just the sort of thing I'd like to have.
In Pole Dance II we learn a lot more spins as well as different ways to get up from off the floor while still looking hot and sexy. To supplement the Saturday class, I've decided to also sign up for Strengthening and Stretching. It's a class that deals specifically with training your hands, upper body, and core for doing pole dancing better and safer.
I've got flabby girl arms, so this class should hopefully help. I have those free weights at home, but I've only been using them once or twice a week, and it's hard to work out the specific muscles needed for pole dancing when you don't own a pole.
I'm blogging this at work and I just tried to look up the cost of buying and installing a stripper pole for at home use, but CBC has blocked all the websites I'm trying to look at. Poles cost upwards of $200 I think. There are different kinds, so it all depends.
I think I might actually get a removable pole for the apartment. It's either that or a $5000 elliptical I've had my eye on, but frankly, I can't afford that right now. A pole, however, is just the sort of thing I'd like to have.
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Tinctures
I have very poor circulation. I've had poor circulation for many, many years. I never knew what to do it about and honestly, I never really tried that hard to do anything about it. I just thought that I would be like this forever.
Well, not anymore. I have done some research online and have decided to make my own tinctures at home to help alleviate some of my circulation issues. So I don't confuse anyone or propagate wrong information, here's is some information that I've read off the net from these two sites:
http://www.wisegeek.com/what-is-a-tincture.htm
http://www.organicnutrition.co.uk/articles/circulation.htm
Then you shake it once a day. After two weeks you strain it through a cheesecloth into a new jar and save it in a dark cool place. You may consume one teaspoon at meal time three or four times a day. You just mix it in with a full glass of water. I'm not sure how it would taste, but as you can see, it's quite simple to make this stuff at home.
I looked up the price of buying 120 organic capsules with the same ingredients, and that costs £ 16.95 but I don't know what that is in Canadian dollars. The price of buying the same ingredients in liquid form (100 ml) is the same price.
Creating tinctures is very popular with herbalists and homeopathic practitioners because it's an excellent form of alternative medicine. It's all natural. I already use Ginger, Garlic, and Cayenne in my everyday cooking, but it's not enough. Making this tincture will extract out every bit of awesomeness these herbs and spices have to offer.
I'd also like to note that there are two other ways to improve circulation: exercise and the hot-cold water treatment.
The hot-cold water treatment is when you submerge yourself (or body part with poor circulation) into cold water for a few minutes, then over to hot water for a few minutes. You just keep switching back and forth. Hydrotherapy is something you can do everyday for as long as you like. Hot water makes the blood rush to the skin and feed it. Cold water makes the blood rush back to the organs. When you shiver, your blood is flushing out your skin and leaving it oxygenated.
Maybe I wasn't doing it for long enough, but I didn't find this to be effective for me personally.
Anyway, I'm pretty stoked to buy some ingredients and get work on making my tincture. I'll let you know how it goes.
Well, not anymore. I have done some research online and have decided to make my own tinctures at home to help alleviate some of my circulation issues. So I don't confuse anyone or propagate wrong information, here's is some information that I've read off the net from these two sites:
http://www.wisegeek.com/what-is-a-tincture.htm
http://www.organicnutrition.co.uk/articles/circulation.htm
Modern research shows that a regular intake of Garlic, along will many other curative properties, lowers cholesterol levels in the blood. It cleanses the blood, tones the heart and circulatory system, helps prevent heart disease, helps in high blood pressure and reduces the risk of atherosclerosis*. Ginger stimulates all tissues of the body and is fantastic for poor circulation. Ginger, Garlic, Ginkgo and Cayenne in a tincture can be easily and speedily absorbed by the body.
Onion being a close relative to Garlic, increases blood circulation and can relax muscles. Eat daily if you are at risk of heart disease or circulatory disorders.
Because the list of ingredients is small and the process very straightforward, many believers in herbal medications make their own tinctures to this day. Homemade tinctures are considerably cheaper than their commercial counterparts, and they remain potent for up to two years. To prepare an herbal tincture, you will need a supply of dried, powdered or fresh herbs; a clean wide-mouthed jar; cheesecloth or muslin; and a supply of vodka or rum.
Place the herbs inside the jar and pour enough vodka or rum to cover them completely. Continue to pour the alcohol until you've reached the halfway point of the jar. Place a lid on the jar and store it in a dark, cool place for up to two weeks.
Then you shake it once a day. After two weeks you strain it through a cheesecloth into a new jar and save it in a dark cool place. You may consume one teaspoon at meal time three or four times a day. You just mix it in with a full glass of water. I'm not sure how it would taste, but as you can see, it's quite simple to make this stuff at home.
I looked up the price of buying 120 organic capsules with the same ingredients, and that costs £ 16.95 but I don't know what that is in Canadian dollars. The price of buying the same ingredients in liquid form (100 ml) is the same price.
Creating tinctures is very popular with herbalists and homeopathic practitioners because it's an excellent form of alternative medicine. It's all natural. I already use Ginger, Garlic, and Cayenne in my everyday cooking, but it's not enough. Making this tincture will extract out every bit of awesomeness these herbs and spices have to offer.
I'd also like to note that there are two other ways to improve circulation: exercise and the hot-cold water treatment.
The hot-cold water treatment is when you submerge yourself (or body part with poor circulation) into cold water for a few minutes, then over to hot water for a few minutes. You just keep switching back and forth. Hydrotherapy is something you can do everyday for as long as you like. Hot water makes the blood rush to the skin and feed it. Cold water makes the blood rush back to the organs. When you shiver, your blood is flushing out your skin and leaving it oxygenated.
Maybe I wasn't doing it for long enough, but I didn't find this to be effective for me personally.
Anyway, I'm pretty stoked to buy some ingredients and get work on making my tincture. I'll let you know how it goes.
Monday, February 8, 2010
The Perks of Being a Wallflower - Stephen Chbosky
I just read the most introspective, beautiful book ever. It was brilliant and sad - in a happy way, if that makes sense, and I'm mad because I always let books do this to me.
I let the book consume my life. I let myself get too involved and I spend so much time thinking about the book and the meaning. For every book I've ever read, I always read the last chapter twice in a row. I finish the book, wipe the tears, and re-read at the very least, the last page or two just to fully absorb the ending. Sometimes several times in a row. Sometimes I re-read the beginning as well.
You know when a book ends and all you want is for that book to NOT be over and to be able to keep reading it all the time? I just get sucked into the plot and the characters' lives and I feel really connected. The book ends. The connection is severed. I cry.
Not because the book is over, but because I'm losing this close bond that the author has imagined up for me. The characters are real people to me, or at least represent someone who could be real. I know everything about their lives and why they are the way they are. It's terrible when that last page is turned and you'll never know another new thing about those characters again!
I wish they were real so I could find them and talk to them some more. And I'm upset that they're not real people and never existed except for on those pages and in my mind.
I'm upset because the stories are written so well and the ending was truly satisfying, but I want more! That's why sequels are so popular. You're emotionally invested.
This particular book felt so real to me. It made me reflect on my own life. It made me cry a lot! Then again most all books make cry, no matter what the ending.
Whenever I finish a really wonderful book I spend a few hours crying and re-reading certain parts, and writing and thinking. I do a lot of thinking. I can think faster than I can type or write or even speak aloud and to try to record my thoughts is futile. For this particular book though, I just needed to get some of what I was thinking out of my system before my head combusted.
I let the book consume my life. I let myself get too involved and I spend so much time thinking about the book and the meaning. For every book I've ever read, I always read the last chapter twice in a row. I finish the book, wipe the tears, and re-read at the very least, the last page or two just to fully absorb the ending. Sometimes several times in a row. Sometimes I re-read the beginning as well.
You know when a book ends and all you want is for that book to NOT be over and to be able to keep reading it all the time? I just get sucked into the plot and the characters' lives and I feel really connected. The book ends. The connection is severed. I cry.
Not because the book is over, but because I'm losing this close bond that the author has imagined up for me. The characters are real people to me, or at least represent someone who could be real. I know everything about their lives and why they are the way they are. It's terrible when that last page is turned and you'll never know another new thing about those characters again!
I wish they were real so I could find them and talk to them some more. And I'm upset that they're not real people and never existed except for on those pages and in my mind.
I'm upset because the stories are written so well and the ending was truly satisfying, but I want more! That's why sequels are so popular. You're emotionally invested.
This particular book felt so real to me. It made me reflect on my own life. It made me cry a lot! Then again most all books make cry, no matter what the ending.
Whenever I finish a really wonderful book I spend a few hours crying and re-reading certain parts, and writing and thinking. I do a lot of thinking. I can think faster than I can type or write or even speak aloud and to try to record my thoughts is futile. For this particular book though, I just needed to get some of what I was thinking out of my system before my head combusted.
Sunday, February 7, 2010
Leo, my love...
I just finished watching the movie Blood Diamond. It was a crazy good movie, but the main thing that I took away from the film is that I very badly want to have sex with Leonardo DiCaprio. I want him to fuck me frontwards, backwards, upside down, and sideways. He is HOTTT in that movie!!! He's hot in all his moves. I would gladly let the R.U.F. chop off my hand if it meant I could have my way with Leonardo DiCaprio all night long while he talks dirty to me in that fake accent.
There were a few moments during the movie where I thought for sure that American journalist was going to jump Mr. Archer's bones. I was mildly disappointed when they didn't because I was hoping to live vicariously through the television set.
I love books and films filled with adventure, suspense, and a good-looking, rugged hero. It has to be an outdoor setting. Death must be imminent.
Indiana Jones - creamed my pants.
Pirates of the Caribbean - creamed my pants twice.
You get the idea.
Leonardo DiCaprio, if you happen to find this blog post or my facebook page, you know, by chance or whatever, just ignore the fact that I'm engaged. I can totally put that part of my life on hold for a day and spend some quality time with you. I'll give you a tour of the CBC. We'll do lunch. Come back to the apartment... role play every dramatic scene in every movie you've ever made... The scene where Jack and Rose have sex in the car on the Titanic can be our finale.
Yours Truly,
An obsessed (but non-violent) fan.
I'm here to love you, not kill you.
There were a few moments during the movie where I thought for sure that American journalist was going to jump Mr. Archer's bones. I was mildly disappointed when they didn't because I was hoping to live vicariously through the television set.
I love books and films filled with adventure, suspense, and a good-looking, rugged hero. It has to be an outdoor setting. Death must be imminent.
Indiana Jones - creamed my pants.
Pirates of the Caribbean - creamed my pants twice.
You get the idea.
Leonardo DiCaprio, if you happen to find this blog post or my facebook page, you know, by chance or whatever, just ignore the fact that I'm engaged. I can totally put that part of my life on hold for a day and spend some quality time with you. I'll give you a tour of the CBC. We'll do lunch. Come back to the apartment... role play every dramatic scene in every movie you've ever made... The scene where Jack and Rose have sex in the car on the Titanic can be our finale.
Yours Truly,
An obsessed (but non-violent) fan.
I'm here to love you, not kill you.
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
Chochy Chump on a Bus
I got on the bus at 3 in the afternoon. I was hoping it would be empty and there would be no one to pick up or drop off because I was late for work. Of course the opposite happened and the bus was busy. Not packed, but I'd say half full.
A tall, Caucasian, blond haired man came on the bus. He looked to be in his early 30's. He had dreadlocks pulled back in a ponytail. The shorter dreads that didn't make into the ponytail framed his face like long bangs.
He had long blond sideburns and a beard with an 8 inch dreadlock hanging off his chin. He decorated this goatee with a bead pushed all the way up to his chin.
He wore khakis and tacky, black platform shoes that gave him an extra inch and a half of height.
Instead of sitting down in one of the many empty seats, he decided to talk on his cell phone and stand in front of the back exit door with a large, full backpack on his back. He stood there for several stops, making each person trying to exit the bus wriggle around his enormous backpack.
If that man is not the true definition of chochy, I don't know what is!
A tall, Caucasian, blond haired man came on the bus. He looked to be in his early 30's. He had dreadlocks pulled back in a ponytail. The shorter dreads that didn't make into the ponytail framed his face like long bangs.
He had long blond sideburns and a beard with an 8 inch dreadlock hanging off his chin. He decorated this goatee with a bead pushed all the way up to his chin.
He wore khakis and tacky, black platform shoes that gave him an extra inch and a half of height.
Instead of sitting down in one of the many empty seats, he decided to talk on his cell phone and stand in front of the back exit door with a large, full backpack on his back. He stood there for several stops, making each person trying to exit the bus wriggle around his enormous backpack.
If that man is not the true definition of chochy, I don't know what is!
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
Babsitting
Yesterday morning when I was babysitting, Jordan (8) accidentally stepped on Vicky (10) with his boots on while they were getting ready for school. Vicky started screaming and yelling at him and there was a bit of shoving and more yelling.
I'm just the babysitting. I really don't give a damn if they fight. Kids fight over petty stuff, it's not even worth stepping in. But Vicky was just pms'ing hardcore.
I said, "Both of you chill out. If one of you dies, your mom's going to be pissed at me."
Jordan went outside to wait in the van and when Vicky and I came out, Vicky was hollering at Jordan to go back and lock the door. He was already buckled up. I told Vicky to go lock it herself.
After several minutes went by and Vicky hadn't returned, I went to go see what was taking so long. The kids have a hard time turning the key sometimes.
"Is it locking?"
"NO!" she snarled at me, disgusted.
I mocked her right to her face because she was being such a brat and told her to get out of the way and I'd do it.
I drove them to school and told them to have a nice day. Neither of them said anything to me. They were both in really bad moods.
This morning, everyone seemed to be in a better mood, of course until it was time to leave for school. The kids were waiting for me outside and they started fighting. Vicky claimed Jordan threw a brick at her.
Jordan claimed he didn't and that Vicky threw a snowball at him so he threw one at her and then Vicky pretended to throw the brick at him. I just sighed and said,
"Don't do that then."
Doesn't really make sense, but I could care less.
Then when Vicky was getting into the van she shoved her back pack into Jordan and I guess it hit him in the face. He was crying and I was dusting the snow off the windows.
I got in the van and asked him what was wrong. He said Vicky hit him. I asked him where, because I thought it was just in the arm or something. He said in the eye.
"Is your eye okay? It is blurry, can you see? Are you blind?"
sob sob sob "No, I can see."
"If you're not blind then stop crying. You're fine."
sob sob sob "But it hurrrrt."
"Pain makes you stronger. Let's you know you're alive. As for you Vicky, there was a guy in my school who went blind in one eye because his friend hit him in the face with his back pack and the strap with the plastic piece at the end of it hit him right in the eye. I swear to God I'm not even lying to you. He got the strap right in his retina or cornea or whatever it's called. And now he's blind in one eye."
"omg, really?"
"Yes, really. So don't hit your brother in the face with your backpack, because if he accidentally gets the strap in his eye and goes blind your mom's going to be pissed at you."
There was silence after that. I dropped them off at school and told them to have a nice day. Neither one of them acknowledged me.
The story about the kid in my school going blind was total bullshit. Saying, don't do that again, means NOTHING to a child. Sharing horror stories however works every time.
The teachers at my elementary school always told us not to twist our swings. You know when you wind yourself up and then let go and spin really fast? Anyway, we never listened because spinning on the swing was fun. Then one teacher said to us one day that there was a girl who used to go to our school years ago. One recess she was twisting her swing around, just how we were. She twisted the swing to much and her neck got caught and she strangled herself and died.
I didn't want to die. I stopped twisting the swings. Whether that story is true or not, giving someone a valid reason to stop doing something, ie: death, blinding someone, is all the motivation children need.
My girlfriend, Jessica, always wanted her mom to buy Gushers Fruit Snacks. Her mother didn't want to because they were unhealthy and expensive. She told Jessica they were poisonous and she would die if she ate them. It took years for Jess to figure out the truth, but by the time she realized her mom had lied to her, it didn't matter. She didn't want Gushers anyway.
Moral of the blog: I am the best damn babysitter anyone could ever hire. I'm teaching life lessons to children. Lessons that will stick for years to come. My methods have been proven successful and when I become a parent, my gullible children will believe everything I say. They're children. It's our job as adults to teach them the ways of the world.
I'm just the babysitting. I really don't give a damn if they fight. Kids fight over petty stuff, it's not even worth stepping in. But Vicky was just pms'ing hardcore.
I said, "Both of you chill out. If one of you dies, your mom's going to be pissed at me."
Jordan went outside to wait in the van and when Vicky and I came out, Vicky was hollering at Jordan to go back and lock the door. He was already buckled up. I told Vicky to go lock it herself.
After several minutes went by and Vicky hadn't returned, I went to go see what was taking so long. The kids have a hard time turning the key sometimes.
"Is it locking?"
"NO!" she snarled at me, disgusted.
I mocked her right to her face because she was being such a brat and told her to get out of the way and I'd do it.
I drove them to school and told them to have a nice day. Neither of them said anything to me. They were both in really bad moods.
This morning, everyone seemed to be in a better mood, of course until it was time to leave for school. The kids were waiting for me outside and they started fighting. Vicky claimed Jordan threw a brick at her.
Jordan claimed he didn't and that Vicky threw a snowball at him so he threw one at her and then Vicky pretended to throw the brick at him. I just sighed and said,
"Don't do that then."
Doesn't really make sense, but I could care less.
Then when Vicky was getting into the van she shoved her back pack into Jordan and I guess it hit him in the face. He was crying and I was dusting the snow off the windows.
I got in the van and asked him what was wrong. He said Vicky hit him. I asked him where, because I thought it was just in the arm or something. He said in the eye.
"Is your eye okay? It is blurry, can you see? Are you blind?"
sob sob sob "No, I can see."
"If you're not blind then stop crying. You're fine."
sob sob sob "But it hurrrrt."
"Pain makes you stronger. Let's you know you're alive. As for you Vicky, there was a guy in my school who went blind in one eye because his friend hit him in the face with his back pack and the strap with the plastic piece at the end of it hit him right in the eye. I swear to God I'm not even lying to you. He got the strap right in his retina or cornea or whatever it's called. And now he's blind in one eye."
"omg, really?"
"Yes, really. So don't hit your brother in the face with your backpack, because if he accidentally gets the strap in his eye and goes blind your mom's going to be pissed at you."
There was silence after that. I dropped them off at school and told them to have a nice day. Neither one of them acknowledged me.
The story about the kid in my school going blind was total bullshit. Saying, don't do that again, means NOTHING to a child. Sharing horror stories however works every time.
The teachers at my elementary school always told us not to twist our swings. You know when you wind yourself up and then let go and spin really fast? Anyway, we never listened because spinning on the swing was fun. Then one teacher said to us one day that there was a girl who used to go to our school years ago. One recess she was twisting her swing around, just how we were. She twisted the swing to much and her neck got caught and she strangled herself and died.
I didn't want to die. I stopped twisting the swings. Whether that story is true or not, giving someone a valid reason to stop doing something, ie: death, blinding someone, is all the motivation children need.
My girlfriend, Jessica, always wanted her mom to buy Gushers Fruit Snacks. Her mother didn't want to because they were unhealthy and expensive. She told Jessica they were poisonous and she would die if she ate them. It took years for Jess to figure out the truth, but by the time she realized her mom had lied to her, it didn't matter. She didn't want Gushers anyway.
Moral of the blog: I am the best damn babysitter anyone could ever hire. I'm teaching life lessons to children. Lessons that will stick for years to come. My methods have been proven successful and when I become a parent, my gullible children will believe everything I say. They're children. It's our job as adults to teach them the ways of the world.
