Who can't write?

So, I bitched early on about this class that I am currently taking.  (Thank goodness it's over in a week.)  My big complaint was that I have been in school for a little over 3 years and have NEVER received lower than a 90% on a paper - actually, I do not believe I have ever received lower than a 95%, however, we'll run with the 90%.  Anyways, this "instructor" SLAUGHTERED my first paper.  He gave me a 79% and informed me that I needed to take a course on how to write papers as mine was full of fluff and grammatical errors.  If you know me, you know first of all that I grew up around a bunch of well educated adults.  Both my mother and grandmother were teachers and my mother majored in English.  Needless to say, grammar, spelling, punctuation - ALL of that was beaten into my head at a very young age.  So, I was pissed.  Well, below is an example of the way this fantastic instructor writes...I have posted my comments in red - red as in YOU SUCK JACKASS.




Hope all of you are doing. (Hope you are doing what? Jumping jacks? Eating your veggies? Pondering the price of tea in china?) Before you know it, the course coming to an end. (The course coming to an end?  Do you proof read Mr. Know-it-all?) I know that this course was challenging to some of you, but I am sure you have and will benefit from the knowledge gained from this course.

This week will be a quiet week with no participation requirements so that you can focus your time and energy on the final paper and exam. No DQ responses or participation of any kind will be required, but feel free to ask questions. Please also a post ( as a team ) a summary (I'm sorry, what was that?  "Please also a post a summary?"  Is that English?  Do you need to eemprove your Inklish?) of what you learned from this course under the weekly summary thread as well as the Assignments Folder.


Mmmhmm, and this would be why I don't much care what my grade is in this class.  Obviously teacher be edumacated some country else.

True. Story.

Ignorance is bliss...true story.


So, Rachel answers the phone today while I'm chatting with Carri.  I notice Rachel turned to look at me at which point I assumed there was a moron on the phone.  What I did not know at the time was that Rachel was looking to see where I was because she thought it was me on the phone playing a prank.  I have NO idea why she would think that - do I look like a prankster?!?!?  *snicker*  Anyhoo, the phone conversation was odd and she finally put the person on hold and gave it to me.  This is how the conversation went....


"This is Jamie.  How can I help you?"


"Do you want to help me eemprove my Inklish?"


"Excuse me?"


"Do you want to help me eemprove my Inklish?"


"Do you have an account with us?"


At this point there is unintelligible random babbling.  It may have been "inklish" I don't know as I am not familiar with this "language."  After a couple minutes of random babbling, I interrupted this person.


"Is there something I can help you with?  Do you need to pay a bill?"


"Do you want to help me eemprove my Inklish?"


Obviously, while I am highly amused, it's a little bit annoying.  So, I said, "Do you need to pay a bill?  Do you have money?"


"I have money."


"Are you going to pay?"


"Yes, I pay."


"What's your account number?"


"Do you want to help me eemprove my Inklish?"


Please insert large amounts of eye rolling and sighing.  Really??  So, again, "Do you have money?"  


"Yes, I have money." 


"Ok, let's pull up your account.  What's your name?"


"Ok."


And of course, he hangs up.  WTF.  We laughed and laughed.  What an idiot.  Yep, 10 minutes later he calls back.  I answered and of course it begins.


"You help me eemprove my Inklish?"


"Look, you're calling a business.  You need to call someone else to help you with that."


"What's your name?"


Really?  I already told the idiot my name.  "You need to call someone else.  This is a business."


"What do you do?"


Creeper is now annoying me.  So, I busted out some pig latin....same sentence 3 times, fast, just for kicks.  All I said was "do you speak pig latin" in pig latin of course.  He says, "You say it slower."  But of course - I repeat it again, just as fast, cuz I'm an asshole.  Again I point out to him that he needs to call someone else.  I could have just hung up, but the truth is, I was having fun being an ass.


"You can give me phone number."


WTF DO I LOOK LIKE?!?!?  A DAMN TELEPHONE BOOK???  So, I said, "No, you need to either look it up on the internet or use a phone book."


"You can give me number?"


"Nooooo, YOU find it. K, have a nice day."


That's it, that's the end of my story.  You have a nice day too.

Gymnastics, Gymnastees, Gymnicetics

I am well aware of the fact that the majority of the population doesn't get gymnastics.  I am well aware that the majority of my friends don't get gymnastics.  I am also well aware of the fact that I cannot ever make someone understand my passion for this sport.  Only those people who have a true passion for something - anything - can truly understand.  If I could, I would live and breathe the sport. If I could spend my life in the gym - minus the time that I want/need for my family - I would. 

I don't think most people understand the benefits of the sport and the work those kids do and how unforgiving it is.  I know a lot of people who read this aren't going to have a clue about what I'm talking about and I will try to explain.  I think that gymnastics is probably one of the absolute most unforgiving sports out there - save maybe figure skating - and I still think gymnastics is worse.  This morning, while most of you were sleeping, a highly talented, intelligent, all around amazing young woman from DeWitt, Michigan won gold at the World Championships for All Around.  Jordyn is 16 years old.  Jordyn won by .05.  That's not much. 

I had the blessing of coaching in the same gym where Jordyn normally trains.  I had the privilege of watching her go from a little tiny mass of muscle at 9 years old when I first saw her to the amazing young woman she is now.  But I digress, this blog isn't about Jordyn (although you would all do well to either yahoo or google search her and read about her).

I was talking about it being unforgiving.  If you haven't seen the movie Stick It, you should rent it.  It's a cute movie and points out some of the deductions the girls get in competition.  For example, the bra strap hanging out, or not hitting a perfect handstand while swinging around the bars, or stepping out of bounds on floor.  You also have no idea the pain these kids go through.  Try running full speed at a vaulting table only to miss the spring board and smash into the table instead of going over it.  How about doing a simple skill on beam like a split jump and missing the landing so that you end up "crotching" the beam. Let's not forget their hands - the endless bleeding blisters from swinging around the bars and the face plants on the mat when you miss the bar after a release move.

Out of all of that (and so much more....the wrist bone sticking out of your arm after missing the beam on a backhandspring and the broken ankle for landing a tumbling pass wrong) arises the most amazing group of kids - young adults - that you will ever come across.  These kids define discipline and respect.  Do they think they are better than you?  Maybe a chosen few of them, but for the most part, these kids are humble. 

I watch some of the school sports practices on occasion and want to laugh.  All of the parents bitching that "these kids are only 4th/5th graders" or there's no need to push yet, they're only 13 makes me roll my eyes.  I had 5 and 6 year olds busting their asses and crying their eyes out in the gym.  Did their parents bitch?  No.  Why?  Discipline and respect.  If any of my kids had EVER spoken to me the way I hear these kids in (insert sport here) soccer, football, basketball, baseball, cross country, track, volleyball, cheerleading talk to their coaches, I can promise you, they would only do it once. 

Maybe that's part of the reason I keep going back to the gym - well, other than the fact that I absolutely love it - I like the discipline and respect.  I don't ever have to worry about obnoxious snotty kids or whiney parents. 

Bottom line - I love gymnastics (and my all time favorite gym in the world is Twistars) and I love every last one of the gymnasts - past and present.

Damn Tuesdays.

I think it's pretty common knowledge that I hate Tuesdays.  If I could skip them altogether, I would.  It's a wasted day that generally leaves me wanting to cause people great bodily harm.  Today is no exception.  The damn shame is, there's not really a good reason for me to be crabby today.  I just am - it's like the Tuesday curse.  At least at this point I can sort of laugh about it.  So, some of you may know that I have had a bad case of the exhaustions lately.  We're not talking kind of tired - we're talking I can sleep for 10 hours and then turn around and take a nap because I'm still tired.  No, I'm not depressed.  Yes, I realize this is a symptom of depression, but I can assure you that's not my problem.  I've also been a dysfunctional water faucet....as in at any random moment I may burst into tears for no apparent reason.  Now, I am pretty sure I know what's causing both, and I will deal with it, but for now, let's focus on the exhaustion and tears, mostly because it will probably amuse you.

Last night after procrastinating on a paper that was due (of course) last night, I finally managed to take myself to bed at around 10.  Yeah, I know some of you stay up until midnight or later, but I read this study once that said people with larger more active brains need more sleep - so stick that in your pipe and smoke it, biotch!  Who's laughing now?!?!  Anyway, I went up to bed and get all cozy and as per the norm, my daughter comes flouncing in about 20  minutes later.  She tells me she's going to get up at 6:15.  Sounds ok, right?  WRONG, but there's nothing I can do about it so I rolled over and went to sleep. 

Of course, I was awakened at just after 3 this morning as my lovely daughter was sleep walking/talking again - only this time in my closet.  -___-  Frickin kids.  Got her back to sleep and I went back to sleep.  My alarm went off at 5:30.  I shut it off - as is also the norm lately since I can't seem to get enough sleep.  I got up at 6. 

If you know me, you know I am not a morning person.  I'm like a raging dragon in the morning.  It is best to leave me the hell alone until I give you the all clear.  That's why I like my mornings at home - everyone is sleeping and I have roughly 30-45 minutes to pull my shit together.  Right, so, I'm in the shower working on the getting nice process and my daughter comes in to go to the bathroom. *sigh*  Fine.  She finishes and goes downstairs.  I carry on with my morning routine only slightly perturbed.  Until she comes back to get some lotion.  Yeah, totally jacking up my routine which makes me fail in the getting nice process.  After the 3rd visit to the bathroom I gave up.  I half-assed put my make up on (read:  looks like the bride of frankenstein today) and rush to the bedroom to find clothes. 

Well, of course, nothing can go right, right?  So, I can't find what I want to wear so I pull out some of my "fat" clothes.  You know, the clothes you wear when you feel like a beached whale.  EPIC FAIL.  It's a great feeling when you put your fat clothes on and they cut off your circulation.  Right, so now I'm too fat for my fat clothes.  F.M.L.  Can you see how my day is going??

I walk downstairs to leave.  Phil notices that I am off and asks if I'm ok.  I think I sorta shook my head or something, idk, but I left.  Got in the car and decided to call him - who better to talk to when having a rough morning than the love of my life, right?  Yeah, that would have worked if he had answered his phone.  *shrugs*  I figured he was probably going to the bathroom so I gave it a few minutes.  In the meantime, a coworker/friend, shot me a text that she wasn't coming in...BOO and people were driving slower than normal.  I called Megan to see if she could get her father for me, but of course, she didn't answer either.  I called Phil about 3 more times and then walked into 7-11 to get a Mt. Dew.  HAHAHAHA, so the guy that hits on me in there ALL the time looks at me and says, "rough morning?"  He's so lucky I didn't sucker punch him.

I get back in the car and call Tracy - my friend and neighbor - to ask if she can have her boys let Phil or Megan know to call me.  Megan finally calls me and I tell her to get her dad for me.  At this point, I'm pretty irrate.  I just needed someone to talk to.  So, I snapped at Phil and hung up on him and then walked into work and had a mini-tantrum.  Thank goodness no one was here.

I'm calm(ish) now, other than the fact that I can't breathe because my fat clothes are too tight.  I could use a nice cold glass of wine, too.  And yes, I realize this blog makes me sound manic and slightly unstable, but the reality is - I probably am. 

You're welcome for your laugh for the day.

The "L" Word

Oh you know what word I'm talking about.  Love.  Is it that hard to say?  It seems now that it is a word that is either left unsaid or that is over used and not meant.  I have no problem with it.  I grew up around of a bunch of people who constantly told me they loved me.  I know that I tell my kids that I love them about 100 times per day.  No, I'm not exaggerating, I really do.  I know that when Phil and I started using the "l" word he had to get use to how often I said it.  I am a firm believer that if you truly love someone, you need to tell them.  Why?  Isn't that obvious?  You never know if you'll have another chance.

I am an incredibly complex simple girl.  Haha, yes, you read that right.  I also love with my whole heart.  If you are someone special to me, chances are you know.  If I haven't ever told you that I love you and you think you're someone special to me...you might be wrong.  I want people to know that I care.  I need those that are special to know that they have impacted my life in some way. 

I, however, cannot stand how these young kids run around telling all the girls in their class that they love them when they turn around two seconds later and tell one of their other friends how much they hate the one they just said "love you" to.  Really?  DON'T SAY IT IF YOU DON'T MEAN IT.

BUT MEAN IT WHEN YOU SAY IT.

I've experienced some tragedy.  I've held back and not told people that are special to me that I loved them.  I've stood over their caskets and said it...too late.  It's not a bad word.  Say it.  There's nothing wrong with telling a friend that you love them.  So, for those of you that have not heard it today, for those of you that I would do anything for, you know who you are....I LOVE YOU.