Since I had to attend an Administrator Academy within this fiscal year to meet the requirements for remaining an administrator I won’t let it go by without note. Aren’t you lucky? It’s like you took the class with me today except you didn’t have to pay for it nor do you get the “lunch provided”. But make some bbq pulled pork sandwiches and some coleslaw and it’s like you’re there! (Put some sweet sauce and some spicy sauce on your sandwich like I did but don’t go for the cookie. The cookie will look good to you at first and then it will disappoint you. Honestly, I look out for you people.)

We had to compile a list of what our Dream School Culture would look like. This is what I came up with:

Leave the building better than when you left it.

Engage all families by contacting them and having an ongoing relationship with them.

Connect with everyone. Every day.

Greet every student everyday. BY NAME. (“Hello, Kristen.” and “Good morning, Anthony.”) ((Best Buy does this. So does Wal-Mart and our local Family Video. It makes me feel welcome! Shouldn’t we all feel welcome in school?))

Believe that the building exists for more than the sole purpose of disciplining students.

Do early interventions and preventative programs tailored to students.

Focus on teaching and learning and if the conversation doesn’t call for anything else as an educator, don’t bother bringing it to the table.

Believe that every child can learn.

Never except excuses; not from students, teachers, parents, or community members.

Require teachers to attend faculty meetings they miss the night before because they coincidentally ALWAYS have doctor appointments on those meeting days. (I hate when someone asks “What did I miss at the meeting?” and people reply “Oh, nothing.” Why would I bother making an agenda and going through it if it were NOTHING?)

Speak to the staff at a State of The Campus address each Fall. It is no secret we’re not doing the best we possibly could be doing so put it out there and challenge everyone to do their best for the kids’ sake.

Ignore AYP and No Child Left Behind. Success isn’t contingent upon the 62.5% you were required to meet this year. Did ANYTHING good happen this school year? Celebrate it. No matter how small.

Control the media when school stories must be told. Fax it to them at 4pm when they can’t “fact check” it. They’ll think they have the scoop and you’ll have told the story YOU want to tell.

Be professional in every manner: dress, speech, expectations.

Create Student Advisory Committees - those kids have some damn good ideas. Listen to them.

Teachers who threaten to quit should be allowed to do so on the spot. Empty threats mean nothing and usually they’re the negative teachers who are harming children so let them go.

Create a family-centered workplace that values our time and efforts for those we teach and those we are raising in our own homes.

Today I smell extra good. My butt looks good in this summer skirt. My hair is curling properly and not puffing up to planetary proportions. My zits have all cleared up. I’m not bloated. My teeth are super shiny and clean.

That must be why three advertisers contacted me today.

What else could be the reason?

Today I’m choosing not to care which is the reason. Because all of the above statements about myself are false save one.

The hair is doing something it’s actually supposed to do for once. I haven’t been able to afford going to get my hair done so we’re going ethnic, au natural, swirly curly. So if you have products you want me to hawk, it’s probably because my hair is so kick ass today. Good hair sells.

No one else was gonna do it and I’m from the school of Do It Yourself. Incidentally, every single freaking time I see “DIY” it takes me a moment to come up with what the letters stand for and I’m slightly pissed at myself for being so slow.

So! I tagged myself! Because I have a blog and I’m not afraid to use it!

The Rules: You highlight the things you can do and you leave in normal type the things you can’t. And it’s a freakin’ free-for-all on snarky comments.  Assign 2 other poor bastards to the task and the electronic equivalent of chain letters is complete. The only thing to do is to sit back and wait for my millions to be mailed to me.

1. Give advice that matters in one sentence. Brevity is the soul of wit and don’t try to fix your car yourself. I’m a former English teacher. I know the power of a conjunction.
2. Tell if someone is lying. Having been a mother for 22 years I can safely say that when you repeat my question to you in a higher pitch, you’re gettin’ all Pinocchio up in here.
3. Take a photo. I likey my digital SLR. Seen my stuff? Well, probably not lately, but I’m still taking pictures.
4. Score a baseball game. No, but I can whistle with two fingers and scream like a madwoman for my team.
5. Name a book that matters. “Song of Solomon” by Toni Morrison. I’d like bonus points for being able to deconstruct characters and themes, please?
6. Know at least one musical group as well as is possible. Let’s go with Bob Marley since that’s the theme lately.
7. Cook meat somewhere other than the grill. That stove doesn’t frighten me, plus I have this from Pampered Chef and it cooks all meat until it no longer requires a knife to cut.
8. Not monopolize the conversation. (Nope. Can’t do it. I’m a chatty Cathy.)
9. Write a letter. I think perhaps I’ve proven that one.
10. Buy a suit. Let’s just say that I have an affinity for shopping.
11. Swim three different strokes. Umm, butterfly, breaststroke, and sidestroke. Thanks, YMCA camp!
12. Show respect without being a suck-up. Don’t let the huge ego fool you. There’s humility in this body.
13. Throw a punch. Only once and the bastard deserved it. No, it wasn’t last week.
14. Chop down a tree. My Green sensibilities forbid it. We need the oxygen!
15. Calculate square footage. Yes, my math capabilities extend to junior high.
16. Tie a bow tie. (Sadly, no, but isn’t it always sexy when a woman helps a man do this?)
17. Make one drink, in large batches, very well. I’m assuming we’re not talking coffee, so no. But I order drinks like a pro! (Not like an alcoholic. A pro. Big difference.)
18. Speak a foreign language. Si, Espanol. Enough to get by.
19. Approach a woman man out of his her league. No such thing. I truly believe this.
20. Sew a button. If you can’t? First, shame on you. Second, here… let me teach you.
21. Argue with a European without getting xenophobic or insulting soccer. I try not to argue with any Europeans mostly because I wish I were one. (Not sucking up. See #12.)
22. Give a woman man pleasure an orgasm so that he doesn’t have to ask after it doesn’t have any energy left. If you can’t? Well, sorry. I can’t help you out there. Try this.
23. Be loyal. I try, but don’t irk me. I’ll turn on you like a muthafucka.
24. Know his poison, without standing there, pondering like a dope. I have this trick and I don’t mind sharing it here: PAY ATTENTION.
25. Drive an eightpenny nail into a treated two-by-four without thinking about it. I prefer these 3 precious words: HIRE A CONTRACTOR.
26. Cast a fishing rod without shrieking or sighing or otherwise admitting defeat. Yes, I can, but it’s not my preference. Can kill spiders, too.
27. Play gin with an old guy. Not much gives me more pleasure. They are a hoot.
28. Play go fish with a kid. I lose interest after a bit but I’ll send the kid to the old guy because that’s even funnier.
29. Understand quantum physics well enough that he can accept that a quarter might, at some point, pass straight through the table when dropped. If I say yes will my ass drop straight through these shorts? Oh, look! They did already!
30. Feign interest. My eyes light up and I smile through it all. See #22.
31. Make a bed. I’m a hospital corners kind of gal.
32. Describe a glass of wine in one sentence without using the terms nutty, fruity, oaky, finish, or kick. It’s yummy! (No one has yet taken me to Napa Valley. Why is that?)
33. Hit a jump shot in pool. (Not to save my life.)
34. Dress a wound. With a paper clip and a rubber band if I have to because MacGuyver could, why can’t I?
35. Jump-start a car. Change a flat tire. Change the oil. I watched while Mallory’s car was jump started on Friday. You can bet it’s a “no” on the latter two.
36. Make three different bets at a craps table. I grew up a good Catholic girl. I don’t make bets. But the former Catholic in me? Yeah, see #22. Yes, AGAIN.)
37. Shuffle a deck of cards. Took me until my 20s, but I can do it without looking like a dork now.
38. Tell a joke. More of a storyteller I am. Also, more like Yoda with the way I just worded that last sentence.
39. Know when to split his cards in blackjack. Good. Catholic. Girl. Blackjack is the one with 21, right?
40. Speak to an eight-year-old so he will hear. Lower your voice and smile wickedly. 8 year olds totally get into that stuff.
41. Speak to a waiter so he will hear. I look everyone in the eye and project my voice. Like a good teacher.
42. Talk to a dog so it will hear. Same thing as above.
43. Install: a disposal, an electronic thermostat, or a lighting fixture without asking for help. Reading directions is not my thing unless it has pictures. I love pictures! Pretty much only the lighting fixture. But you have to SEE to be able to do the others so I make it possible!
44. Ask for help. Learning this one more and more. Have I told you I’m seeing a therapist and am on medication. Yeah, the crazies hit me upside the head recently.
45. Break another man’s grip on his wrist. Morgan takes karate so I had to learn this one.
46. Tell a woman’s dress size. I’m too much of a lady to even guess. Why do I need to know any woman’s dress size? I mean, if I’m going to whack her and steal her clothes maybe. I can see this if I catch a woman close to my size wearing a Vera Wang wedding gown, but then there’s the blood and all…
47. Recite one poem from memory. “Stay Gold” from The Outsiders. Dang that Ponyboy.
48. Remove a stain. Hello, Tide To Go pen!
49. Say no. Yes. No. Maybe. Too ambiguous. Ask me again?
50. Fry an egg sunny-side up. Yes, but scrambled eggs made with ranch dressing are MUCH better.
51. Build a campfire. Need materials, but I can get the job done.
52. Step into a job no one wants to do. Do you know what I do for a living? Too many people have told me they don’t want my job.
53. Sometimes, kick some ass. Do you know what I do for a living? On a very. regular. basis.
54. Break up a fight. Do you know..yes, you know. I have done it twice in the last 4 months.
55. Point to the north at any time. My aunt Eileen taught me the directions using the Black Hills of South Dakota when I was ten. I am ever grateful.
56. Create a play-list in which ten seemingly random songs provide a secret message to one person. I’m making out with my iPod right now and there are 17 playlists on it. Each is a secret message to myself. I think this one I can knock out of the park.
57. Explain what a light-year is. No. But I can use The Google!
58. Avoid boredom. Read a book, dude. Expand your vocabulary!
59. Write a thank-you note. On the prettiest stationary. Anybody ever get one from me? Anybody pissed that I didn’t send them one? Sooooo sorry.
60. Be brand loyal to at least one product. Dermalogica face care. Cleared up my high school skin years ago. I kiss the bottles nightly.
61. Cook bacon. Nice and crispy and then I EAT THE ENTIRE POUND MYSELF.
62. Hold a baby. And smell it’s head right before I try to stuff it in my mouth. They’re so delicious.
63. Deliver a eulogy. Thankfully, I’ve not been asked. I’m too much of a crier.
64. Know that Christopher Columbus was a son of a bitch. Your understanding of your heroes must evolve. “Lies My Teacher Told Me”. Excellent read.
65. Throw a baseball over-hand with some snap. I was somewhat of a tomboy, so let’s call it a softball.
66. Throw a football with a tight spiral. Never even tried.
67. Shoot a 12-foot jump shot reliably. In my high school days and then that one time right after we installed a hoop in front of the house. Only during the summer of 1998.
68. Find his her way out of the woods if lost. How did I get there in the first place? I’m a city gal, folks.
69. Tie a knot. I regret quitting Girl Scouts so soon.
70. Shake hands. Wait until the other person lets you know how much pressure, but don’t kill them. YOU’RE NOT THE HULK, OK?
71. Iron a shirt. Collar first, then arms, then front and back.
72. Stock an emergency bag for the car. Lipgloss, hair tie, sunglasses. We’re going on an emergency trip to the beach, aren’t we?
73. Caress a woman’s man’s neck. My Love Language is Touch. I speak it well.
74. Know some birds. Only a few. Why is this important? Just indulge in their beauty.
75. Negotiate a better price. How much is a class on this because I need it. But I can ask for a bargain and get them. Perhaps I’m thinking that this means like on a house or car. There are some adorable Tommy Hilfiger mocha-colored sandals that I got $10 off once and I’m still psyched about it!

Tag yourself and tell me about it. If you do it really well then you get a gold star for number 22!

Best snippets of recent conversations:

Talking with my friend about her recent very-long bike ride down in Southern Illinois:

“Yeah, well after 33 miles on my bike my butt hurts. My butt and my bike seat need to have a conversation about that.”

Talking to the barista through the drive-up window during torrential rains:

“Illinois is one big bowl of nasty.”

Talking with Mallory after she had a job interview during yesterday’s flash flood storm:

“So we had to go in the basement toward the end of the interview because of the tornado.”

Later on I was discussing this with Mallory’s boyfriend by telling him that I hadn’t even known we had a tornado in the morning.

“Kelly. We didn’t. What’s today? It’s the first Tuesday of the month. It was at 10 am.”

“Oh, Jeebus. She hid out during the MONTHLY DRILL? We are going to crucify her for doing that.”

After that Mallory tried defending her position to me.

“What was I supposed to do? Everyone else went to the basement! I had to do it!”

“That’s true. If you had refused you wouldn’t want them to write on your interview sheet ‘Hmmm…does not exercise caution. MAY NOT WANT TO HIRE THIS ONE.’”

Talking with some girlfriends:

Finally, I was enjoying some excellent beverages with some girlfriends and the Inevitable Vajayjay Talk came up as we discussed ob/gyn visits, Brazilian waxes, and sex. When we started to do our own Vagina Monologues one of them said:

“My vagina is a book. Read by a lot, but never quite on the bestseller list, ya know? In fact, it’s getting to the point where no one is reading it anymore. It’s just getting all dusty and the jacket’s worn down.”

Now that I realize my son, his friends, and his youth group counselor have been reading my site I will have to slow down on all the talk about vajayjays. So, if you’re here for that then too bad. This won’t stop me from complaining about MY CRAPPLE WITHOUT A NAME, though I have realized that should I ever get that MacBook Pro I will name her Ophelia because the silver casing reminds me of a watery grave which is exactly where I feel like throwing my current one that pooped out on me at work today. I know - you come here to discuss boobs and lip gloss and I give you this.

But since I have a platform and my son just may have gotten this far in his reading may I shout from the rooftops until the tiles are tingling that HE NEEDS TO WEAR SUNBLOCK I’M NOT KIDDING SUN POISONING ISN’T ANYTHING TO BE TRIFLED WITH I MEAN IT RIGHT NOW, MASON.

If you’d like to chastise my child along with me, feel free to leave horror stories in the comments.

When I asked Mason to please write down the mental list forming in my head I said, “Ok, we need laundry detergent, toothpaste, and sunblock for my blockhead son. GET IT? GET IT, MALLORY? MASON? Sun block? For my block head SON?”

They just let their mouths form all crooked and shook their heads at me. Sometimes, momma ain’t that funny when she’s laughing like a lunatic on leave from the psych ward.

That’s probably because today at school wasn’t a funny day at all.

Twice today I had parents contact me and ask what they should do to help their kids do better in school since they’ve each failed three year-long courses. Tomorrow is the last day of school. They called. Today. Today. If I were allowed to give swift kicks to the head my legs would be sore right now.

Then at around 10 a.m. I had to go “whisper” to the student who has been the most challenging student to me. Some days he’s great and the other days he’s a complete wreck. When “Hank” starts acting up they call in the Hank Whisperer and 99% of the time I can get him to comply and do what he was asked to do, but today I experienced the 1%. His claim to fame is that he’s never taken a final exam or any big test and he started his Super Special Ed behavior as soon as he got to class. When they called for me I knew he was going to make this a difficult day.

Totally unrelated to having a student arrested and having him writhe on the ground because he doesn’t listen to the six adults trying to get him under control: stand back when the scuffle calls for pepper spray. Just a warning folks. Also, blink a lot to reduce the burning and use milk or antacid to rinse out your eyes. Use Vaseline or vegetable oil to rub your eye area with and use saline for the next several hours. You don’t want to know how I know this. You will get a LOT of sympathy for this if that’s your cup of tea.

After spending the rest of the day getting final exam ready for the suspended students I went outside to do my lunch duty and get a little sunshine (oh! SO not good for pepper sprayed eyes!) when I heard my name called over the radio (such fun! to be found wherever you are in the entire building BECAUSE YOU CARRY A RADIO! joy! excitement! the feeling of being needed!) because a parent and student were down in my office to see me.

I pushed to button to talk and breathed an audible sigh into the radio. “Hhhuuuhhhhhh. Ok. Umm…” and then I let go of the button to think a second. “Hhhuuuhhhhh. Well…ok. Tell them I’ll be inside in a few minutes.”

It’s possible that he overheard me say that and then I started to feel guilty, but dangit! Parents showing up in the middle of the day demanding my time! When I got downstairs I saw this father dressed in his army fatigues and his son waiting for me. They were all smiles. The dad spontaneously grabbed me and hugged me. He said he was sorry I had been so sick and was hoping to catch me before summer vacation began and wanted to thank me for being so understanding of his son while their family went through a difficult time this year.

My body released a huge sigh and I thought of tough Hank and his getting in serious trouble. What kind of tough guys were these, though? This big, beefy father who has fought for custody all year long who wanted to show some appreciation.

Most of the rest of the day was spent wondering about tough men. They spend so much energy into being solid in front of other guys. I watch my own teenage boys have pissing contests with each other to mark their territory. This doesn’t bode well for electronic devices. Again, I’m free with all the advice. But they have kicked each other until the other one screams for a court order to keep from coming within 50 feet of their genital area. Resilient rugged men who can take an ass-kicking like you wouldn’t believe.

All these tough guys made this tough gal weep today. I know it’s partly because of the exhaustion of the end of the school year, but what started out today as an impossible-to-feel-good-about-moment ended with me hopeful that these tough boys will grow up to be tough men not afraid to express themselves.

I needed that tough guy hug at that precise moment.