My Cabby just picked my winning lotto numbers

I hope he did anyway! His name is Claudio and from the moment I got in the taxi, he was as charming as could be. (Those Ecuadorian men sure are charmers ya know...) First of all, he said, "Good evening madam and welcome to your taxi." I mean, if all taxi drivers in NYC said that, the general tone of millions of people would be happier every day!

However, he continued by asking about what music I would like to hear. "Anything relaxing - I'm tired," was my quick and pseudo-irritated response. Claudio continued to prod, poke, and insist that I make the selection. I was on my way to getting fully annoyed and just asking him for quiet because I am exhausted - until I suddenly had a moment of clarity and a lack of filter.

 "You are seriously the first taxi driver who has ever asked me what kind of music I wanted to hear! Not to mention, you have been so polite and just tried to please me!"

As the words came out of my mouth, I let any negative thoughts or feelings slip away and I embraced the moment for what it was: a hard working man who is in the customer service industry who is simply trying to do as lovely job as possible in the hopes of pleasing customers, and, therefore, making better tips.

We proceeded to chat and find out a little about each other, and because I told him I grew up in New York (I didn't say Albany, it wasn't worth it...) he searched his satellite radio for "New York" and on comes good old Blue Eyes himself.

I couldn't keep the smile from my face.

I somehow brought up the Mega Millions being $266 million (I think he mentioned numbers...) and this was where it got interesting. Apparently Claudio has phenomenal luck when it comes to picking numbers for other people, just not for himself. So, he insisted on selecting winning numbers for me. I told him I had a pen and notebook, but apparently his pen was luckier then mine - so I grabbed that black ball point and started scribing!

What followed was about 5 minutes of logical questioning and manipulating of pseudo-relevant numbers. "What day is today? Ok, 1 is the first number because today is the first."

"Kind of lame," I thought to myself. But, he got better. Seriously.

I came up with a list of 5 numbers and the mega-ball based on his picks. I wrote down his name and ID number and assured him I would call him Tuesday when I won! I promised him I would make sure that both of our American Dreams would come true if I won because of his numbers.

"They will have it all over the news! 'Teacher and taxi driver hit it big!' And there will be Claudio the driver and Susanna the professora on TV from their new apartments in the Trump Towers!'"

As I was getting out of the car (and pointed out he knows where I live, so if he sees me on the news, but I don't call him, he can come find me), I chuckled, "Let's just assume I will be calling you Tuesday night because I'm going to win!"

And yet, it's up to you, New York, NY.

Ohh nostalgia...

So, a friend of mine from high school posted some redonk pictures of us from high school on her facebook page. I look horrible, obviously, but they are just too funny to ignore. Of course, the people she tagged began a string of comments...and it led to us having so hilarious realizations about some of the dumb shit we used to do back in the day.

What surprises me the most are the things that other people remember about our shared experiences. One of my friends pointed out how she remembered watching movies of our summer reading books on this little white tv I had back then. (Don't tell my 7th graders what a complete hypocrite I am in this regard!) My other friend laughed about how the 1st time she ever watched Conan O'Brian was on that tv, too! The tv wasn't even in the picture!

Meanwhile, I saw the wall paper and all the posters and Absolut vodka ads I had put up on the walls to cover it up and thought, "There's no way my mother didn't know I was smoking weed and drinking all through high school." (Yes, I went to all girls Catholic school.) I also know I forced my friends to watch Conan because I was the only 15 year old who was madly in love with him in 1997 and wrote him a letter propositioning him for a position as either a writer OR his wife.

I wonder why I didn't get a reply?

Sometimes, I like to abuse my power to teach lessons.

For instance, I had a student this morning - let's call him "My sh*t don't stink" - who pulled the classic let-me-use-my-watch-to-reflect-the-sun-in-an-annoying-way routine. I asked him nicely, twice, to stop. Upon the third time of his denial and continued scheming, I said, "Hey YoursStinks, let me see your wrist." he shows me the one without the watch. OK, got me there. "Your other wrist." She slips his hand behind his back, slides off the watch and holds it up. I laugh, and due to sheer determination and creativity, I let it go.

He persists with the watch in his lap. I quietly sneak up behind him with all the other kids laughing, and tap him on the shoulder. Holding out my hand, I smirk and say, "Looks like I have a new watch for the day." I begin to put it on and he replies, "But it's solar powered, I was just trying to charge it!"

"It was kind of you to make sure I would have a charged watch for the day, YourStinks."

"But it's a $100 G-Shock!"

"Even better, then I know I can rely on it telling my the accurate time until 3:00pm. Thanks!"

I wore this thing all day (I hate watches, I wore it on my left hand/writing hand, and it was huge & annoying.) I got compliments from all of the kids. "Dang miss, you got a G-Shock?!"

"Obviously, I'm a G. That's how we do."

At 3pm he came into the office and found me. The school aid I was literally just telling the story to pulled out her sunglasses when he came over to talk to me. I nearly peed myself. I told him if it happens again, I am gonna wear it every day until June 28th. "Are we clear & is that fair, YoursStinks?"

"Yes, miss."

"Good, cuz that thing is big and was annoying my wrist."

"They make them in smaller sizes," YoursStinks says with an eye roll as he walks away.

"Yes, but why would I buy a smaller one when I can have yours for free? Those things cost $100 you know."

Sometimes, you gotta let a kid know his sh*t stinks.

7th Graders in the Spring Time

There are so many days while I am going to work, at work, or home from work that I think, "I hate teaching. FML. My principal is schizo. Why am I doing this to myself?!"

Luckily, I spend my days with 12 year olds. Most people would not consider this lucky, but in the grand scheme of all things annoying and bureaucratic in the NYC school system, they are simultaneously the bane of my existence and my little saving graces.

Spring time in the 7th grade is particularly charming. You see, it is this cosmic time in the universe when they lose complete control of their bodies, minds and inhibitions. As mother Earth is bringing things to life everywhere in nature, so is she bringing alive the hormones in my adolescent students.

Spring Hormones = Daily RIDICULOUSNESS = Gut bursting Laughing = I can tolerate teaching

A few examples from today alone:

• Between the change of 1st and 2nd period, an 8th grader sets off a stink bomb in the boys bathroom. My classroom is across from the principal's office and all 3 of my administrators were in the doorway with that "look" on their faces. I overhear things like, "Damn yo! What's that smell?"  "It's your mom!" "Close your legs bitch!" "Dammmm nigga what'd you eat for breakfast!" Amazing.  My favorite class comes in, and I am in just as giddy a mood as the kids and laughing at all the responses. 
• In the midst of this, I realize the Daily Edit I have up on the SMART board still has the corrections on it from the previous period because I can hear all of the kids being like, "Quick, write em down before she notices!" Of course, then I do, and let out a GASP (think, "Oh!" with a "you little cheating f%uckers" sarcastic undertone) and sprint to the projector from the doorway to cover it and quickly delete. Another student I love is grabbing my arm so I can't delete it, but I win. I turn around to see my principal in my doorway with a look of death on her face. When I explain that the answers were up and I didn't notice (while chuckling), she gives me a good laugh, sigh of relief, and walks away. THANK GOD.
• One of my favorite students (I just adore him - dimples and raspy voice and all :) looks me dead in the face and says, "Miss, I don't wanna go to the bathroom, cuz I'm scared of the smell, but I REALLY gotta go!" with the most pained look on his face doing the pee-pee dance in his chair. Roaring laughter commences,  and he gives it a shot. 
• As this kid is coming back from the bathroom - with his face still tucked in his shirt, we all stop to listen to my principal SCREAMING at the obvious stink bomber. "HOW DARE YOU SET OFF FART BOBMS IN THIS BUILDING!" Again. Roaring laughter. We hear her scream the phrase "FART BOMBS" at least 3 more times, and so far we have lost at least the first 10 minutes of class. 
• Before I can even stop myself, I tell the kid, "Dude, you totally just dragged the smell of nasty egg farts all the way back from the bathroom with you." One of my awkward former ELLs starts laughing harder than I ever even thought was capable from her and she falls out of her chair. Another 5 minutes gone and we're still roaring.  (This was just 20 minutes of the day mind you...)
• 7th period, I have a class come in and one of the girls has 2 helium inflated balloons because it's her birthday. Her friend accidentally pops one of them on the screw from the table leg as I am standing right behind her. At the same time, an announcement comes on over the PA system. About 10 seconds later, this girl leans down over the popped balloon, sucks up some helium, and starts talking like a munchkin  - in the midst of an announcement. I tried to get angry and scold her. I laughed. I begged her to stop. I laughed harder. She just kept going. She finally paused - so we might be able to hear the rest of the announcement, but no luck. There was a little left, so my advice: "You might as well finish it off and entertain us since we're already way off task." And she did. About a minute later, she asked if she could get a drink of water. "Why, because your mouth is dry from all the helium you were huffing? You can go, but please don't tell your mother I let you huff helium in my classroom." She was like, "Obvi," and smiled at me.

Man I love some of my students.

Sometimes I wonder who the source of some of the issues are in my classroom. I just can't help myself. There's no sense in getting angry when all you really want to do is laugh. Sometimes, 12 year olds annoy the crap out of me, but it's usually because they're being funny at an inopportune time. In the spring, however, I have learned you just have to laugh it out and move on. Otherwise, I would be screaming angrily about FART BOMBS at the top of my lungs, and who the hell would take me seriously after that?

I am FREAKING over LOST (in a good way :)

I think that Jack for sure is the NEW Jacob, but I think Hurley is the new Richard and someone is going to kill Richard so he can finally be at peace. There just hasn't been enough development with Frank to make him that important...I think. You never know. Though, they did make it clear he was supposed to be on the island - Ben even said it.

I am also with the, "I don't give 2 craps about Ilana," school of thought. She is a gun toting know it all right now and I want her to spill it!

Someone mentioned that the choices being made off-island seem to shape the on island choices. Can we assume that because the scene with Ben helping Alex in LAX world occurred BEFORE the Ben making the right choice with Ilana scene, that - time wise- it happened first? I am not so sure that we can.

I think that the H-bomb created this simultaneous parallel universe and the characters are making the same right or wrong choices in both worlds at the same time. Juliette said, "It worked," before she died. I think she was right, only not in the way we had hoped or thought possible.

The only issue with this is, what happens if they get off the island now? They can't go back to LAX - there would be 2 of each of them there at once - WOAH - no.

This makes me wonder if everyone left is either going to die on the island, or stay there making good or bad choices while their bizzarro world selves in LAX go on as well. But, I might be really going out on a limb here.

I just want there to be a rational explanation for all the weird stuff. Like, how the hell are they gonna explain the smoke-monster? I want this to be less sci-fi I guess so it can just make sense!

Please let Desmond be on the submarine with Whidmore!! If he is, then I think Whidmore is going to be on team Jacob and help eliminate the darker elements on the island so Jack can protect it. It seems Whidmore has been all about protecting the island all along. And, before, Ben seemed to be a threat to the island because he was a threat to the Oceanic crew. If Whidmore comes in with Demond to save the day, THEN, maybe, the Oceanic 6 can live there happily and their LAX bizzarro-selves can live and die in peace.

Whoever made the Napolean Dynamite reference about Ben's dad - TOTALLY!

Ugh, I can't wait for next week.

Oh, and I have been re-watching from season 1 so I can go through and trace back any hints I might have missed.

There was a scene in the Pilot episode with Locke on the beach playing backgammon. Walt asks him to explain, and Locke holds up 2 pieces saying, "There's a light one and a dark one" (or piece or team he may have said).

Either way, we see a nice close up shot of Locke, holding up a white thing and a black thing, just like the rocks on the scales in the caves and just like the rocks that Adam & Eve had.

This really makes me wonder if the writers had this planned specifically all along.

Or, were they working along and think, "Ooh! Remember those scenes from season 1? Let's bring those back in. Locke was the ones who held the light and dark things in season 1, so let's use him as smokey."

It may be a little of both, but either way, I have got to give them credit.

I couldn't pay someone to steal MY identity...

 

So, I got sushi take out the other night. The next day, I see a charge to my checking account that I totally do not recognize (and, I wasn't slamming saki with the sushi, so I know I didn't go online and order anything in a drunken daze). I googled the name of the company, and here is what I found. While I am certainly not one to shy away from sexual exploits, there isn't a snowball's chance in hell that I charged $30 for "services" from this company.

I called Chase bank, they are going to take off the charges and related fees, but I did have to cancel my debit card - which is annoying at best.

The ironic hilarity in this entire situation: I'M BROKE. I literally had $0.46 in my checking account when they made the charge and it still went through (thanks overdraft protection AKA $35 in Chase's pocket). Some dumbass from the sushi place really made a poor choice when they said, "Let's take this girls card info. Suzanne McCormick sounds like someone with money."

HAHAHAHA! Good one! I sound like I should have money because of my waspy name, but I don't. I am a teacher who spent $36,000 a year on college and I live in Manhattan. I am drowning in student loans and credit card debt.  I have the cash and groceries I will need to get me through to pay day next Friday, I have an unlimited metro card, and my bills for the month are paid.  I'm not married, have no investments, no current credit cards, and no money in savings.

You want my debit card or identity - GO AHEAD - it's all yours!

Me and my hoes appear to be bros...

So, I was made aware of this blog today and I think it's friggin hilarious! Some women out there might think it is misogynistic. I, however, agree with much of the sentiment of the Bro who created the site and have realized my girlfriends and I not only hang out with guys like this, but we ARE like these guys. I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing, but you have got to at least appreciate the irony. You also just really have to appreciate the satire here and realize it is a poignant portrayal of a pretty large sub sect of the population that ends up being the doctors, lawyers, and brokers in the U.S. today.

Regardless of how they turn out, they are certainly fun to party with, if you're into that...