From this Yahoo! article about shoplifting pregnancy tests, we get this line:
Many little boxes can be stuffed quickly into a bag in one fail swoop.
Um, yeah. I'd call it a "fail," too, when you can't even get a cliché right. *rolls eyes* It's "one fell swoop." Duh.
That's not even a mixed metaphor; it's just dumb.
But it IS irony.
Tuesday, June 11, 2013
Sunday, June 9, 2013
The Greek Fountain Dance -- Part II, With Video!!
Okay, so there was this post that got your attention, as I described spitting on my fellow teachers.
Then I gave you a photo of the scene.
But this weekend, I found that someone had posted our lovely dance (the first assembly version, anyway -- the one wherein kids run in fear, rather than curling up into fetal positions) onto youtube. I thought I'd share:
But, we are far from original.
Youtube is filled with other versions of the same dance, most of them quite long, and most of them featuring only men. Here's one:
And here's another (with younger, less pudgy guys, which makes it less funny, in my humble opinion):
I still think we got the best audience reactions. No other group has kids screaming and running for the exits. :D
Then I gave you a photo of the scene.
But this weekend, I found that someone had posted our lovely dance (the first assembly version, anyway -- the one wherein kids run in fear, rather than curling up into fetal positions) onto youtube. I thought I'd share:
But, we are far from original.
Youtube is filled with other versions of the same dance, most of them quite long, and most of them featuring only men. Here's one:
And here's another (with younger, less pudgy guys, which makes it less funny, in my humble opinion):
I still think we got the best audience reactions. No other group has kids screaming and running for the exits. :D
Friday, June 7, 2013
A Novel Just Waiting To Be Written
A couple finds a fully-stocked, 1960s-vintage bomb shelter in the backyard of their new home.
If I ever finish the four books I'm currently writing, this one might be the next in line.
If I ever finish the four books I'm currently writing, this one might be the next in line.
Monday, June 3, 2013
Which Song Is The Voice Of This Generation's Memories?
Today was the year-end assembly for our 9th-graders. This is always a point of mixed emotions for them: they're happy to go; they're scared to move on. It's one of those few moments where you can see in their eyes the knowledge that we old folks understand, that we've been there, too.
When I was in high school, the year-end assembly was an actual slide show. You know; the kind with SLIDES on a projector and music played from a cassette over the auditorium sound system. And the song of our generation's pain at losing the past was this:
"Bookends" by Simon and Garfunkel
The words are so very poignant:
Time it was/ And what a time it was, it was./ A time of innocence. / A time of confidences./ Long ago, it must be./ I have a photograph./ Preserve your memories; they're all that's left you.
Wow.
Then I started teaching school, and technology improved! We actually had THREE SLIDE PROJECTORS timed with a CD to show the blurry photographs.
And the song for years and years? This one:
"Good Riddance" by Green Day.
The words are still pretty poignant when applied to ending a huge chunk of one's life. (Yes, 3 years of junior high constitutes a "huge chunk" when one is only 15. That's a fifth of a life for them.)
"It's something unpredictable, but in the end it's right./ I hope you had the time of your life."
By now, of course, the slide projectors are things of the past. Some of my students have never seen one before. The photos we saw today were all jpeg files (many of them taken by me on Shakespeare night, actually) set to various MP3 downloads and put into sequence with a video program, shown with a computerized projector onto the big screen. Many of the songs chosen seemed to have nothing to do with what was being shown, but the one that made the kids sit up, the one that resonated with them emotionally, was this one:
"Some Nights" by fun.
It's a song about confusion rather than about memories. Odd, that. But the harmonies are exquisite and powerful, so perhaps that is why it was the song that made them grab each other's hands and stop joking for just a few minutes to take in the seriousness of the step they're taking in life right now.
And I, long past making similar steps, left the auditorium humming this one as well.
When I was in high school, the year-end assembly was an actual slide show. You know; the kind with SLIDES on a projector and music played from a cassette over the auditorium sound system. And the song of our generation's pain at losing the past was this:
The words are so very poignant:
Time it was/ And what a time it was, it was./ A time of innocence. / A time of confidences./ Long ago, it must be./ I have a photograph./ Preserve your memories; they're all that's left you.
Wow.
Then I started teaching school, and technology improved! We actually had THREE SLIDE PROJECTORS timed with a CD to show the blurry photographs.
And the song for years and years? This one:
The words are still pretty poignant when applied to ending a huge chunk of one's life. (Yes, 3 years of junior high constitutes a "huge chunk" when one is only 15. That's a fifth of a life for them.)
"It's something unpredictable, but in the end it's right./ I hope you had the time of your life."
By now, of course, the slide projectors are things of the past. Some of my students have never seen one before. The photos we saw today were all jpeg files (many of them taken by me on Shakespeare night, actually) set to various MP3 downloads and put into sequence with a video program, shown with a computerized projector onto the big screen. Many of the songs chosen seemed to have nothing to do with what was being shown, but the one that made the kids sit up, the one that resonated with them emotionally, was this one:
It's a song about confusion rather than about memories. Odd, that. But the harmonies are exquisite and powerful, so perhaps that is why it was the song that made them grab each other's hands and stop joking for just a few minutes to take in the seriousness of the step they're taking in life right now.
And I, long past making similar steps, left the auditorium humming this one as well.
Murphy's Law As Applied To The Last Week Of School
It's the last week of school. Different grade levels have different assemblies and activities at different times to make it easier for us to manage the crowds but making the kids confused and even more hyper, as they're under the impression that no one is going to make them work this week. Also the kids may no longer use their lockers, so many of them will use this as an excuse to come to class with no materials whatsoever.
Therefore, the copy machine will break down today and refuse to work for the entire week.
It's a given.
Therefore, the copy machine will break down today and refuse to work for the entire week.
It's a given.
Thursday, May 30, 2013
The Greek Fountain Dance
Several days ago, this post made some of you quite curious as to what the heck I meant by posting that I'd been wearing a toga and spitting water on my colleagues, so I thought I'd give you photos to help you understand.
Last week was our annual teacher talent show. True, a few of the teachers actually display REAL talent, like those teachers who play the guitar well, for example. But most kids don't really want to see the teachers do something serious well; they want entertainment. So most of us do funny skits -- and the kids love it.
One year, I got a male teacher to dress up as Tiny Tim and lip synch "Tip Toe Through The Tulips" while faking the use of my ukelele while a few of us female teachers did a very silly dance with plastic tulips. Another year, the librarian helped me make a video parody of "Friday" using teachers to act out the horrendous video.
This year, I was going to do a take on Steve Martin's famous "King Tut" skit, but only 4 of us volunteered, and then the drama teacher begged me to drop it so she could have my people for The Fountain Dance. I agreed.
So, there were six of us, walking slowly out onto the stage to Enya's "Only Time," and wearing very serious expressions. We were carrying plastic water carafes.
We went through several serious-looking poses, then solemnly held our water up to the gods-- and took a mouthful. The next series of poses, we all did as "fountains," spitting the water all over each other.
The fourth of this pose-and-spit series was where we all imitated a Rainbird sprinkler system.
The kids received all this even better than expected -- especially in the first assembly, where they shrieked with laughter.
Then we picked up our water and moved solemnly to the audience. At this point, in first assembly, there were howls, and kids in the front rows got up and ran to the aisles. The kids of second assembly were more resigned to their damp fates and merely attempted the duck-and-cover method of escape.
Overall, ours was probably the favorite act of the whole assembly--- except among the members of stage crew, who had to do the mopping.
(The photos were taken with my camera by the school's yearbook editor. I did the cropping, etc.)
UPDATE: Wait! There's more! Now with VIDEO!
Last week was our annual teacher talent show. True, a few of the teachers actually display REAL talent, like those teachers who play the guitar well, for example. But most kids don't really want to see the teachers do something serious well; they want entertainment. So most of us do funny skits -- and the kids love it.
One year, I got a male teacher to dress up as Tiny Tim and lip synch "Tip Toe Through The Tulips" while faking the use of my ukelele while a few of us female teachers did a very silly dance with plastic tulips. Another year, the librarian helped me make a video parody of "Friday" using teachers to act out the horrendous video.
This year, I was going to do a take on Steve Martin's famous "King Tut" skit, but only 4 of us volunteered, and then the drama teacher begged me to drop it so she could have my people for The Fountain Dance. I agreed.
So, there were six of us, walking slowly out onto the stage to Enya's "Only Time," and wearing very serious expressions. We were carrying plastic water carafes.
We went through several serious-looking poses, then solemnly held our water up to the gods-- and took a mouthful. The next series of poses, we all did as "fountains," spitting the water all over each other.
The fourth of this pose-and-spit series was where we all imitated a Rainbird sprinkler system.
The kids received all this even better than expected -- especially in the first assembly, where they shrieked with laughter.
Then we picked up our water and moved solemnly to the audience. At this point, in first assembly, there were howls, and kids in the front rows got up and ran to the aisles. The kids of second assembly were more resigned to their damp fates and merely attempted the duck-and-cover method of escape.
(The photos were taken with my camera by the school's yearbook editor. I did the cropping, etc.)
UPDATE: Wait! There's more! Now with VIDEO!
Wednesday, May 29, 2013
Cozy Cliches
I read a LOT of mysteries. I always tend to think of myself as a fantasy/paranormal type of gal, but every time I tally up how many books I've read per genre per year, mysteries come out on top.
And many of those mysteries are cozies.
A cozy mystery is along the lines of Agatha Christie, not too violent, short, often meant to appeal to women. But the more cozies I read, the more I'm convinced there's an unwritten list of rules to be followed.
1) Nearly every cozy has a female protagonist, occasionally a senior citizen of the Miss Marple variety, but usually age 30-something.
2) Said female protagonist must have been either divorced or dumped by a man before the first book in the series begins so that she is romantically free.
3) She must not be conventionally pretty or aware of her "natural" beauty, yet nearly every man her age stares at her on the street. She may not diet; sometimes she is a bit chubby (translation: she wears a size 8 instead of a size 2); she eats. But men go crazy for her anyway.
4) She must have at least 2 guys who are truly after her, and she must have trouble deciding between them. Often these guys are the traditional love triangle, with one being a bit of a "bad boy," or at least unexpected: he's younger, he's from a mafia family, he's a rock star, he's a biker dude, he has a questionable reputation.
5) She must be personally acquainted with at least one cop: he's usually one of the boyfriends, but occasionally he's her dad or her neighbor. If she's a senior citizen, then he's her son or nephew.
6) The protagonist likes to think of herself as strong and independent, but she is constantly needing to be rescued by the two boyfriends and/or the cop. Also, the men she knows will treat her as something that must be protected and taken care of, and she will find this endearing and/or romantic instead of nauseating.
7) She must have a best friend, usually another single female (her Bess and George, so to speak), but a gay guy works also. This friend cannot be a romantic distraction to the men who are after the protagonist. The protagonist depends on this friend for a job and/or to figure everything out. Again, the protagonist thinks of herself as independent, but she's always very dependent on the friend.
8) The protagonist must live in a small town where everyone gossips about everyone else. This is how she gets her information.
9) The protagonist may not be an actual detective or police officer, and she must be warned off/threatened off the case by the official forces of the law at least once or twice during each case.
10) The protagonist must work freelance or in a small business in the small town. She may never work in a large corporation or office or have a job that demands a certain schedule.
11) The job is usually the theme for the book. Cozies must have a craft or cooking theme of some kind, and "extras" are often included at the end: recipes, craft instructions, homemaking tips.
12) The climax of the plot will usually involve the protagonist going off to find the villain alone --- making some crucial and stupid mistake, such as leaving her cellphone in the car or walking down a deserted street at 2:00 AM -- and it will require her life to be in danger so she can be rescued by one of the men in love with her and/or by the cops.
That's about it.
They're not great literature, but I'm rather addicted to them. Unfortunately, many of them are really poorly written, with dangling modifiers, characters that are built up as important then never seen again, and gaping plot holes. But I usually read them anyway. They're sort of like comic books for middle-aged women.
If I can ever get myself through my 4 current writing projects, I think I ought to try a cozy. Just to be a rebel, I think I'll make the protagonist a teenager. Or maybe I'll make her a school teacher and give lesson plans as the extras! Funny!
Either way, you can bet your booty that no protagonist of mine is going to wait around to be rescued.
And many of those mysteries are cozies.
A cozy mystery is along the lines of Agatha Christie, not too violent, short, often meant to appeal to women. But the more cozies I read, the more I'm convinced there's an unwritten list of rules to be followed.
1) Nearly every cozy has a female protagonist, occasionally a senior citizen of the Miss Marple variety, but usually age 30-something.
2) Said female protagonist must have been either divorced or dumped by a man before the first book in the series begins so that she is romantically free.
3) She must not be conventionally pretty or aware of her "natural" beauty, yet nearly every man her age stares at her on the street. She may not diet; sometimes she is a bit chubby (translation: she wears a size 8 instead of a size 2); she eats. But men go crazy for her anyway.
4) She must have at least 2 guys who are truly after her, and she must have trouble deciding between them. Often these guys are the traditional love triangle, with one being a bit of a "bad boy," or at least unexpected: he's younger, he's from a mafia family, he's a rock star, he's a biker dude, he has a questionable reputation.
5) She must be personally acquainted with at least one cop: he's usually one of the boyfriends, but occasionally he's her dad or her neighbor. If she's a senior citizen, then he's her son or nephew.
6) The protagonist likes to think of herself as strong and independent, but she is constantly needing to be rescued by the two boyfriends and/or the cop. Also, the men she knows will treat her as something that must be protected and taken care of, and she will find this endearing and/or romantic instead of nauseating.
7) She must have a best friend, usually another single female (her Bess and George, so to speak), but a gay guy works also. This friend cannot be a romantic distraction to the men who are after the protagonist. The protagonist depends on this friend for a job and/or to figure everything out. Again, the protagonist thinks of herself as independent, but she's always very dependent on the friend.
8) The protagonist must live in a small town where everyone gossips about everyone else. This is how she gets her information.
9) The protagonist may not be an actual detective or police officer, and she must be warned off/threatened off the case by the official forces of the law at least once or twice during each case.
10) The protagonist must work freelance or in a small business in the small town. She may never work in a large corporation or office or have a job that demands a certain schedule.
11) The job is usually the theme for the book. Cozies must have a craft or cooking theme of some kind, and "extras" are often included at the end: recipes, craft instructions, homemaking tips.
12) The climax of the plot will usually involve the protagonist going off to find the villain alone --- making some crucial and stupid mistake, such as leaving her cellphone in the car or walking down a deserted street at 2:00 AM -- and it will require her life to be in danger so she can be rescued by one of the men in love with her and/or by the cops.
That's about it.
They're not great literature, but I'm rather addicted to them. Unfortunately, many of them are really poorly written, with dangling modifiers, characters that are built up as important then never seen again, and gaping plot holes. But I usually read them anyway. They're sort of like comic books for middle-aged women.
If I can ever get myself through my 4 current writing projects, I think I ought to try a cozy. Just to be a rebel, I think I'll make the protagonist a teenager. Or maybe I'll make her a school teacher and give lesson plans as the extras! Funny!
Either way, you can bet your booty that no protagonist of mine is going to wait around to be rescued.
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