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Friday, September 28, 2012

You Are Killing Me

You and my new boss, the president of the PTA. She's practically holding me hostage, I tell you. Ermergerhd! The tasks just keep piling up and the sad news is, nothing gets done because I'm really that disorganized. Lately, when people ask me how am I doing - you know what I tell them? I don't friggin' know!

Since you seem to be stuck here, let me send you on your merry way and you can "not" see me dip into that secret stash place under the floorboard. It's the only reason I'm still here.


http://namzola.com/2012/09/28/where-ever-we-go-amigo/

Monday, September 24, 2012

This Has Got To Stop

Just checking in on my ex and found you here.

Don't just stand there, you were smart enough to B.Y.O.Poison, bring it on over to the party.

 Close the door behind you - I used my Security Deposit as the last month's rent.

Sunday, September 23, 2012

Get There From Here

What are you still doing here?

The newest blog post can be found here:

http://wp.me/p2JqXj-N


or visit namzola.com and poke around while I fix the place up.

See you there!

Thursday, September 20, 2012

300. Bring Your Own Belittlement!

Okay. It's done - I'm outta here. My new address for future billings, barkings and bellowings is (drum roll, por favor)


I got tubs of chilled beer and wine and vodka in the freezer! If you can't make it in person, don't worry. I'll have one for ya!

While you're sipping, check out the "Laugh At My Parenting" page on top. It was the homework assignment that tied me up. Thanks, Vanita. All details on that account will follow - but follow me here because...one good neurosis deserves another.

- Thanks for everything, Julie Newmar!


Tuesday, September 18, 2012

Just A Tippy Tappy More

Almost there with the new website. Just checking in to let everybody know I'm not dead yet - 'cuz I know you ladies are the type to gossip behind my back as soon as I go take a piSSsss.

"Mada shindenai yo."

My geek friends used to answer their phone with that line. If you must know, it's from an obscure movie, "Merry Christmas, Mr. Lawrence" which starred David Bowie, Tom Conti and some Japanese entertainers you probably don't know - or care - about. They are not your typical "Goh-jirahhh" screaming actors, but interesting nonetheless.

The music was awesome. Unlike those 80's one hit wonders like "St. Elmo's Fire," what's that song about, anyway?

So, I'll get back to work so's I can invite you's to my new crib. In the meantime, here's the song "Forbidden Colours" (with a U for Eurotrash) to keep you entertained.


Wednesday, September 12, 2012

I'm Moving

Yes, you read that right. It's time to move on - to WordPress. Prodded by Maureen of Tatterscoops, I've signed up for this course by Vanita of After Bed Time.com and so far, I haven't flunked out. As promised, it's a 101 on making Google love your blog explained in terms that even an idiot like myself can understand.

Of course, I could have learned it from my husband who went to school for this, but if I can't retain how to tie a butcher's knot from him, how am I going to remember tech-jive? It doesn't even make me randy.

So, like Grace of With Some Grace, it will be my third go at blogging. Let's hope I have at least an ounce of her energy to see it through. Then again, she has twin boys. In another year, I figure that playing ground should be level.

I will miss Blogger and it's logo that reminds me of Henry Rollins face for some reason.

This process reminds me of Eric Carle's House For Hermit Crab - I've invested so much loving care publishing posts of buffoonery and found true friends who laughed with me. Now I have to find a bigger shell and hope that retardedness will be big enough to fill the space.

It'll work out. Things always do. Like the light that's always at the end of a tunnel, there's also a monkey or two.


Saturday, September 8, 2012

What A Difference A Grade Makes

Since it's behind us, I can disclose that the second grade teacher Zuki started off with last year, was a disaster. I won't outright say that it was all her fault, but now that he's in a class with teachers who actually give a shit, I see a distinct difference in his progress. He's excited, he's motivated and most importantly, he's confident and figuring things out for himself.

Maybe it was being a seven year old boy. Perhaps it was second grade. Whatever was the case, he's now a completely different person. I feel like going back to her and slap down his notebook in her face (like she did to me, seriously) and say "In your face!".

I remember how smug she was when she compared his handwriting to another student, who was exceptional to the point that it put my mother's precise penmanship to shame. He can't keep up, she said but her face expressed, I want nothing to do with him.

After jumping through hoops, bending over backwards and walking over hot coals, I had him designated to CTT (Collaborative Team Teaching) with two teachers for the rest of his educational term. How do I know he's happy? He came home Friday afternoon asking to do his homework.

He asked when he could get to do his homework.

Teachers have a hard job - they deserve more than recognition, they deserve awe. I hate to say anything bad about any one of them because I'd hate to think a bad one existed among them. But you wind up learning something regardless. What I've learned is that there are people who truly care about our kid's education and are willing to go above and beyond to make sure they get a damned good one. To them I owe my life. A mind is a terrible thing to waste and I thank them for finding a way rather than trying to bang a nonagon peg into a square hole.

For us, the second grade Hell is over. Perhaps it's a little too early to celebrate, but when it seems like the air is a little more breathable, the future is more pliable and finally - finally the talented little person is emerging with all the wonder education has to offer, what can you do but treat him to some Fish n' Chips.

Way to go, Zuki.


Friday, September 7, 2012

Would You Believe, Terrified?

Sometimes, it just doesn't get any easier. The first day of school will always be the first day of school for some folks. Zuki, the social butterfly, can't wait for the chance to mingle and connect, he's a happy camper when it's time to return. Samu on the other hand - well, this is him as we were leaving:

After 7 tries, Zuki gets his brother to smile
He couldn't bring himself to smile. "I don't wanna go to school," he said as I walked him to his drop off.

"If you don't go to school, you'll have to go to work in a coal mine," I told him.

"Okay," he said.

I let out sigh thinking he meant okay to going back to school. But then, he said, "I'll go to work."

As we got closer to the mayhem in the schoolyard, I felt the palm of his hand in mine getting sweaty and limp. "Let's just go home," he whimpered.

Poor guy.

In the belly of the beast, which is the schoolyard the first day of school, there was the usual chaos. There was also the fleeting joy of seeing former classmates after two long months, then discovering they are in a different class. At this point, Samu doesn't know whether to laugh or cry. So he does both.

In the line for his class, he sees a friend - but the friend is already crying. And that makes him cry as he pathetically waves hello. On the first day of school, crying is contagious.

The new teacher consoling the Crying Duo - "I'll only torture you a little bit, okay?"
But education is invincible. That night, he announced that he wanted to be a "cartoonist." He grabbed a wad of plain paper and went to work on his book.

"I'll go to bed after I finish this last chapter!"
I hate being out-written!

Wednesday, September 5, 2012

Burger King Butterflies In Our Stomach

New York City public schools don't open until tomorrow.

I know, right?

It's like being the last competitor, the final act - the butterflies multiplying in our stomachs with every passing minute. We watched the Catholic School kids go off in their uniforms and reviewed the school supply list for last minute items. I posted the September Menu for the PTA website and thought, my kids aren't going to eat that crap.

Seasoned pinto beans, garlicky green beans, Racheal Ray's Yum-O?

Yesterday morning, the boys came with me to the school office to tend to some administrative stuff. Just being in the school made them unusually nervous and they read their books quietly while they waited for me.

Yes, I said, read their books quietly.

As we left the building, they meekly asked, "What are we going to do today?"

They probably expected me to say homework, but instead I said, "How about having breakfast at Burger King?"

They waited for me to say, "Just kidding," but I didn't. After a whole summer of fresh fruit and yogurt, Cheerios and egg sandwiches - I was finally allowing them to have junk for breakfast.






Let's see if they eat "Yum-O" with that much enthusiasm.

Saturday, September 1, 2012

Emotions Eleven

I meant to post this on our anniversary, but our anniversary got in the way. Eleven years ago, I got hitched to this:

The Sharpie Tie
This is a recent picture but it wouldn't matter if I had one of him eleven years ago - he hasn't changed a bit. By that, I mean he's the same age at heart as when I met him: three years old.

Note: he drew a necktie on his shirt because I told him he was wearing a rag. Do I look classier now?

Is it any wonder he produced boys like these?


Oh yeah, they're normal mentally
That was on the Staten Island Ferry. Yes, I took them to Staten Island but it's not like it's New Jersey - sheesh. Besides the ferry ride there is free and you know what that means...more money for beer! And look what a success it was, konked them right out.

I don't know these kids...

I look highly unnatural in this picture because a gorgeous young man offered to take it for me. He looked like a Rutger Hauer under drinking age. Seriously, if he asked, I would've said I was their nanny or something.

Just kidding, Daddy. I wouldn't leave you for Rutger Hauer...he's kind of old now.
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