What I’m Reading
Nov
30
I Did It All For The Prizes
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As evidenced by my foray into commenting madness over at the Daily Tannenbaum yesterday, I like to win. Sometimes when you win you get prizes, sometimes just being the best is prize enough in itself. Of course, you and I both know which of those options is better. Because seriously: there are gift certificates on the line.
And sometimes (like, say, when you win at the Funky Carter) you get prizes, but a full calendar year later. Shipping must be a bitch from New Hampshire.
Regardless, I have kicked NaBloPoMo ass and that is good enough for me. Or so I am trying to convince myself, because I’m pretty excited to not have the obligation of posting on the weekends any longer. But also: prizes! I can feel it. This is my year! Last year I really, really wanted the painting of Viggo the Carpathian and not only did I not win it, I didn’t win anything. Not a single sock monkey. Not even an honorable mention ribbon.
I briefly toyed with the idea of posting every day in December as well, mostly to freak out Aaron who is doing just that over at the Funky Carter, but where would it end? Because once I got to the end of December and we were still tied for consecutive posts, then I’d have to post every day in January, and February, and March… well, you get the idea. And the thought of posting infinitely just to beat that dude, it’s not enough to keep me going forever. Sorry.
In any case, congratulations to everyone who made it through! You all receive the NPW seal of approval and an A+ in effort. As far as I know, no one was committed to an asylum during the month, which seems encouraging. Quite honestly, I very much enjoyed reading everyone’s posts every day. It was comforting to know I would wake up to no fewer than twenty fresh posts each morning from all you loyal NaBloers, plenty of reading material to get me through my first (and second) coffee of the day. I will be sad to see some of you lapse back into posting once or twice a week, and I will also miss commiserating over the every day posting (even though really, it didn’t bother me too much).
So this is it. I am signing off for my final NBPM post of 2007. Thanks to you all for making it a great one.
Nov
29
Poop. I just wrote a lengthy post about my crazy days of working for an airline, when I had the 4 a.m shift but also got to jet-set around the world on a whim any time I felt like it. Then Wordpress decided it wanted to mess with my mind and completely erased any trace of it. To that I have to say, what did I ever do to you, Wordpress? All I ever do is talk about how great you are then out of nowhere you decide to be a complete bitch to me? You’re worse than Melissa Wilson in the 7th grade, when one day we were best friends and the next she told people she wore a bigger size bra than I did so we couldn’t be friends anymore. And maybe I never said it to Melissa but I am saying it now: screw you, Wordpress.
So I am going to attempt an abbreviated post on my brief but illustrious career in airline customer service. The mere fact that you do not have to work at an airport every day should make you a little bit happier inside (and if you do happen to work in an airport every day, my heartfelt sympathies to you). In fact, I only took it as an interim job when moving between one branch of the non-profit I worked for to another. I still maintain that working in an airport is one of the worst jobs in the history of bad jobs, as it was both tedious and stressful. Let me break it down for you.
PROS:
Free travel, when available. Sometimes in first class, sometimes in the lavatory. You just never know with stand-by.
CONS:
Pay comparable to McDonald’s employees
Horrible people
Ungodly hours
Working on every holiday
Horrible people
Lifting heavy luggage
Searching said luggage while trying not to touch a strange man’s underwear
The possibility of getting stuck in an airport somewhere because you don’t actually have a ticket.
HORRIBLE, HORRIBLE PEOPLE
As far as I could tell, there are only two different people in the airport line at 4 a.m.: overexcited 5 year olds on their way to Disney World, already dressed in their Cinderella gowns and Mickey Mouse ears, and wretched business people that came straight from the Super 8 in a rented Ford Focus. There are some shades of gray there, yes, but overall I would say that breakdown is 80% accurate. Throw in some scruffy college kids in pajamas and the occasional old lady with a wheelchair and an oxygen tank and you basically have my life from 2001-2002.
I have long maintained that most people immediately lose about 30 IQ points upon entering the airport. Only the most experienced travelers seem to be able to keep their composure when faced with such difficult tasks as remembering to bring a form of identification and leaving the carving knives at home. Maybe I shouldn’t be so hard on people; I know flying makes some people anxious and the constantly revised lists of what is ok and not ok to bring with you can be daunting. I also concede that it can be stressful when there are delays and bad weather and long security lines. But if you people had ever seen the things that I had seen you would understand where my impatience with poor travelers comes from.
This was also the period of time when gate agents had to “randomly” search passengers luggage, which to the airline meant anyone with a last name that was not Smith or Johnson or O’Malley got to have me rifle through their personal possessions. I can’t even begin to tell you the strange things people pack for vacation, but I will say there were a surprising number of… well, I’ll let you fill in the blanks. It’s too early to gross you out. The best was when I got to search a drag queen’s luggage and he/she had an entire suitcase full of makeup- he/she had amazing taste in products and we had a good gab about it. The worst was when I had a woman scream in my face that she was GOING to Mexico whether I liked it or not, and it was TOO BAD for me that she had forgotten all her IDs at home and she had packed 250 pounds of crap into one suitcase when the limit was 50, and she demanded that the plane leave RIGHT NOW, she didn’t care that there were 18 inches of snow covering the ground and the plane and none of the flight crew had shown up yet. Yeah, a lot of days were like that one.
There was one other good thing about working for an airline, which was that I was guaranteed to be the smartest person there at any given point. They actually told me at the interview that they don’t usually hire college graduates because they knew that they would not retain them for very long. Of course, during the interview I assured them that would not be the case with me, that I was in it for a career in ticketing. I quit four months later. It is harder than you think, being surrounded by idiots all day long. They had a couple of test requirements during training that you had to pass with a 70% or better. Things like memorizing airport codes (I still know them all- quiz me, I dare you), and knowing what the signs meant on hazardous materials so that you didn’t accidentally play catch with a bottle of nitrous oxide. I also learned most of the ticketing and boarding stuff by watching other people and I pretty much had it memorized by my second day of work. My co-workers were constantly amazed by my prodigious skill in issuing boarding passes, and so quickly!
I also had to learn to drive the tug cart, which was surprisingly difficult since it weighed a metric ton (literally, as it had to push the planes away from the gate) and was dangerous (if you crashed into a plane you were looking at millions of dollars in repairs). The hardest task assigned to me though? Making the end of the gate ramp connect squarely with the plane so that passengers could get on and off without falling 50 feet out of the plane door to the tarmac below. It was exactly like operating one of those crane lift games where you try to lift the prize out. The little levers and buttons would make me sweat with nervousness as I jolted myself around, teetering on the edge of that platform. And in case you were wondering, pilots don’t respond well when you smack their window with the ramp.
But I did get to meet Carlos Santana once. Dude is short.
Ok, so this post ended up being long anyway. Luckily tomorrow is the last post of NaBloPleaseNoMo. Barring a freak accident in which all electricity, satellite, and cell phone towers are cut down, I will come out of this victorious. And hopefully rich with prizes and glory.
Nov
28
So You Want To Be A Nerd Star?
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Oh, Quiz Bowl. Nerdiest of nerdy pursuits. The kids had a blast, I felt like I had run a marathon. It was a lot of work, running around to make sure things went smoothly. The school we were paired up with for the year is run by two bone-headed women, neither of whom has been to any of the (mandatory) meetings, both of whom showed more concern for how their hair looked in the team picture than they did about their actual team. I felt like kicking the blonde one in the shins while she ignored her team and flipped through her cell phone contacts. For the fourth time.
I might have accidentally jabbed a knee into her as I moved down the aisle in the auditorium, but she deserved a real smackdown. The kicker was that she and the other bozo lady from that school forgot there was a match until the bus arrived to pick them up. WTF? How do you both forget you have an event involving 20 middle schoolers? What the hell else do they forget? “Oh, whoops. I’m supposed to have open heart surgery today. But hey, do you think these platinum highlights make me look trashy?”
Needless to say, their team was bad news. Luckily my team was very well-prepared and made up for the bad attitudes with enthusiasm, friendliness, and eagerness. One of my students informed me afterwards that she had been cramming for a week and she knew every country, capitol, river, and ocean in Asia and the Middle East. I thought she was going to have a panic attack on the bus on the way to the meet, but she pulled through. God, I love these little overachievers. The other team didn’t even know what they were supposed to be studying so I guess we’re ahead of the curve.
Despite the disparity in the teams everything seemed to go fairly well. They didn’t give us an actual score so I don’t know how we’re ranked compared to the middle school that usually wins, but I think we’ve got this in the bag. These kids know their geography cold. Go, Team NPW!
Yesterday afternoon I was tired out by all the academic fun but I traipsed over to the high school for my Bookmaking class because I am WAY behind in finishing my book. Seriously, these things take a long time, and like I said before, I am not known to be the most crafty person alive. But I got a good amount of it done and headed home to curl up on the couch and maybe finish my book for bookclub, since I had been neglecting it in favor of re-reading the final Harry Potter. I barely made it onto the couch before I remembered the laundry, dishes, and general cleaning that I have been neglecting since Thanksgiving. And then my doorbell rang and it was my landlord with two electricians in tow. And then I realized that I was feeling decidedly achy and tired, my face was all flushed, and I was exhausted.
So I curled up on the couch anyway and Chris brought me tea and we watched the Charlie Brown Christmas Special. And then I went to bed.
The end.
Oh, I just had the realization that we are in the final stretch here of the NaBloPoMo. So far I have not really felt much pressure about posting; it’s unusual for me to post on a weekend or a holiday (and not really my favorite thing to do) but it wasn’t terrible, by any means. Apparently my brain is so chock full of inanity that I can spew stuff out with abandon. I noticed a number of people have fallen off the bandwagon and I say, good riddance to them! More prizes available for me! Or, you know, I’m sorry you didn’t make it and there’s always next year? But seriously: prizes. For me.
Nov
27
Being low man on the totem pole in your professional life can tend to suck. Much like how I am forced on a daily basis to accept ludicrous situations and smile sweetly while doing it (“Why yes, I would love to babysit your four year old while you have a conference with a teacher, ma’am! And all free of charge, while I try to manage my real job!”), I often get coerced into doing things I would not normally agree to. Like the annual Spelling Bee. And hosting the Secret Santa this year. And playing guitar at the faculty holiday party. And doing two jobs on top of being the school webmaster.
One could argue that I should do these things anyway as a show of school spirit, and I admit that some of them I might freely sign up for if left to my own devices. Secretly, I enjoy the Spelling Bee because I am a huge nerd and it’s kind of hilarious. It’s just that when I am backed into a corner about certain things I tend to want to distance myself from them- if no one else agreed to do it, it must be horrible, right? Thus far, the two things that I have truly wanted to avoid I have successfully managed to escape: planning the faculty holiday party and planning the retirement parties.
People, I was an event planner for three years. I am done planning events, unless they are my own, and even then: so done.
So I thought I was doing pretty well, right on track for tenure and the days when I could say NO! to something without feeling nervous that I might be let go at the end of the year with no explanation. (I’ve heard some horror stories.) Then this year I was handed the mother of all pains in the ass: Quiz Bowl.
Quiz Bowl should, in theory, be a piece of cake: you take the smartest kids in the school, let them try out and pick the best of the best, and then you go and compete against other schools in the area and hope that your school in the smartest. Sounds like a dream assignment, right? Wrong! It is not. It is a nightmare of logistics, of buses and permission forms, of scheduling and choosing what the kids should study, of keeping the kids focused and interested, of purchasing snacks and maps and team t-shirts so that the kids are not hungry and tired and bored. There has been a different teacher running it every year I’ve been at my school and every single one of them have quit teaching at my school that same year. Coincidence? I don’t think so.
And then there is the smug son of a bitch at the other middle school in my town who informed me that his school has won the Quiz Bowl the last three years in a row. Oh, hell no. You did not just throw down with me? Because even if I was duped into taking on this responsibility there is no way I am going to let these kids come in second to your (inferior) school. I don’t care if they have to memorize every land mass, tourist attraction, body of water and political background for the entire continent of Africa, they are going to kick your ass. Kay thanx.
Today is their very first match. Guess who they are squared off against? You got it!
So keep your fingers crossed for them because I would really love to keep my job and wipe those self-satisfied smiles off the other Quiz Bowl team’s faces. Now, how many more months till summer vacation?
Nov
26
It’s In… The Alamo
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Why aren’t all weekends four and a half days long? It would really improve the overall quality of my life. It also helps a bit that this long weekend involved a holiday and my birthday, but still. I guess it’s not too far to go till Winter Break when I get 13 glorious days off in a row, but there’s so much to do in the meantime! I am participating in three different Secret Santas, I have to do a bunch of regular Christmas shopping, there are holiday parties springing up left and right, and we are planning a trip to NYC in December. How’s a girl supposed to keep up? And why does everyone around me insist on getting all Martha Stewart in December and making me feel inadequate?! Seriously, people: cut it out. I know I am not as crafty as you; I don’t need that fact pointed out while I am trying to purchase thoughtful yet inexpensive gifts.
So anyway, last week Chris decided to work from home one day so he could take care of a few errands. We had mutually decided that we would get rid of cable because neither of us watches a great deal of television and we already have Netflix. Basically it was just another bill to pay, so when it came down to it he said he would go and return the cable box while he was home. Of course, this was all decided before we got the giant television.
I came home that day to find him perched on the couch with his eyes glued to some super high definition nature show that he was recording. On our new DVR, with our new high definition cable box. Wait, what?!
I honestly tried to feign consternation but I, too, am enthralled with how awesome everything looks on this screen. And how much do I love being able to record whatever is on when I’m not home? A lot. Maybe too much, considering the crap that is on during daytime programming. In fact, I have spent more time on the couch in the past few days of vacation than in the last month combined. But it’s so worth it. Plus, through some glitch in the system we seem to be receiving all the premium channels, so I’ve found myself watching things like The Incredibles and Pee Wee’s Big Adventure and Tombstone. Why? Because I can. I’m almost ashamed to admit it, but I know I can confide in the internet without fear of reprisal: the DVR is already over 60% full. That’s like, I don’t know, a million hours of television just waiting for me to watch it whenever I want! Woot!
Good thing I have all that vacation time coming up, I can knock out at least 120 of those hours in one go. It will seriously eat into my Christmas shopping time and I might not get any of my 30 for 30 list completed, but I think it’s a sacrifice worth making. I just hope Chris has the money to pay for the crane that’s going to have to lift me out of the house after I spend the next three years laying on the couch eating mini pigs in a blanket and ice cream.
Nov
25
Thirty for 30
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I am now officially a year from 30. One short year. Well, technically 364 days, but really, who’s counting?
Thank you to everyone for your lovely birthday wishes yesterday, both here, on Facebook, in text messages, phone calls, ecards, and real birthday cards. You guys are the best. Chris also brought me flowers and treated me to a lovely dinner which made turning 29 seem pretty darn bearable, maybe even (gasp!) pleasant.
I’ve been thinking a lot about it and I decided I wanted to make 29 special in some way. So in honor of making the last year of my twenties the best it can be I am going to attempt to write a list of thirty things I would like to see happen before I hit the big 3-0.
1. Finally get out to Denver to visit Megan and Co. (2008 is the year, I can feel it!)
2. Volunteer.
3. Start to learn how to make all the recipes my Mom knows but are not written down anywhere.
4. Convince Chris that he should not leave every light in the house burning all day and all night. (Note to self: check if Al Gore makes house calls.)
5. Have lunch at Dave’s Fresh Pasta, as I have been walking by it every day for the last two years and it is seemingly never open.
6. Beat Zelda Phantom Hourglass on my DS.
7. Practice rolling grape leaves so they don’t look ridiculous after I cook them.
8. Host a dinner party.
9. Do something randomly and unexpectedly nice for someone.
10. Send more actual letters and postcards.
11. Replace dresser with one that matches bedroom AND has drawers that open.
12. Buy more fresh spices.
13. Get a puppy.
14. Decide whether I want to continue renting and save money for house, or whether that is an impossible idea in the Boston area.
15. Spend less time stressing about things that do not matter.
16. Attend at least one non-school related class on something of interest.
17. Join fun pick-up sports team. (Note to self: not kickball.)
18. Attend the BlogHer conference in Boston.
19. Meet at least one of my blog-related friends. (Does it count that I’ve already met Kelli?)
20. Win a blog contest that is not on Funky Carter.
21. Change blog design and layout.
22. Get new masthead.
23. Go on a Duck Boat Tour.
24. Go on the Haunted Trolley Tour.
25. Walk places more often.
26. Decorate for the holidays.
27. Knit something that involves an actual design.
28. Try to see old friends more often.
29. Try to visit family in England this summer.
30. Achieve world peace. (Ha!)
Hmm. It seems 29 is going to require a lot of effort. Maybe I should have added “Become lazier”. Anything else you can think of that I might have forgotten?
PS- Wee! Already one down! #5, Dave’s Fresh Pasta has amazing food, just as I suspected. Too bad it’s open at the most bizarre times. Must try to get there again.
Nov
24
They Say It’s Your Birthday
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It’s true. Today I am 29 years old, the first day of the last year I am a twenty-something. I’ve heard a number of jokes about how this is only the first time I’ll turn 29, but I’m not one to lie about my age. I guess I’m just happy that I still get carded occasionally and most people would guess I’m closer to 25 than to 30. Good enough, right?
So Chris and I will celebrate tonight at a place about which we’ve heard nothing but rave reviews, and then next week I’ll do a little more celebrating with my family and friends. As a side note, Chris is usually not so good at keeping secrets that involve presents. I don’t think there has ever been a time he’s been able to keep something exciting from me for longer than a day or two, but that’s just part of his charm. He really wants to give me fun things, and he JUST! CAN’T! WAIT! Because he is awesome like that.
What typically happens is that he will inform me he bought my present and then encourage me to guess what it is until I get it. Or he will just keep asking, “Do you want your present now?!” And of course, I do. And I know he only does it because he hates surprises himself, but sometimes I enjoy a good surprise, you know?
Then two days ago he came home with a giant brown bag from an undisclosed location and he claims it is a Christmas present but I know he won’t be able to hold out a whole month so I’m pretty sure I’ll be getting whatever is in that bag today. I would like to note here that I am impressed he hasn’t already blurted it out already. I’m sure whatever it is I will love it.
As long as it’s a puppy.
Just kidding! As long as it’s a new MacBook.
Kidding! Geez.
Nov
23
Sleep Deprivation Is For Fools
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Chris had never been shopping on Black Friday, which I found both amazing (he loves a good deal, especially on electronics) and admirable (I hate crowds and lines). Unfortunately, he had been perusing the ads for the last two weeks and there was no way I was going to convince him that a $99 GPS system was not worth waiting in lines because, frankly, it was.
Worth it, that is.
Anyone who lives in Boston but has not lived here their entire life knows that you need a GPS to get around. Even with the Big Dig (mostly) completed there are constant detours, construction, new rotaries popping up out of nowhere, lanes that suddenly do not exist anymore, all the product of a city built for horse drawn carriages and not so much for millions of people and their cars. I would estimate that 50% of the roads have actual road signs on them, and that’s being generous. To make matters worse, most of those roads have multiple names, so you’re never quite sure if you’re in the right place even when there are signs available. I’ve lived in or around the city since roughly 1996 and I still have a difficult time finding places that I have not already been to 57 times. And giving someone driving directions? Forget it.
Anyway, rather than going into a long-winded diatribe about the evils of traffic in Boston, suffice it to say $99 for a navigation system and free traffic updates for life was definitely worth waiting in line. And so we prepared for a very early morning in the cold. We woke up at 4:30 a.m. and made coffee. Right before we headed outside, though, Chris decided to check the store website to make sure they didn’t start selling them early online. Lo and behold, 30 minutes and a whole bunch of the old F5 refresh later, we were both proud owners of a GPS. Then we went back to bed until 11.
So, yeah. That’s my tale of Black Friday shopping. God, I love the internet. Oh, and hey! If anyone wants us to come visit, I totally know how to get to your house now! That’s right, suck it, mapquest.
Nov
22
The real reason everyone loves Thanksgiving is because it is the holiday on which you are allowed and encouraged to eat unlimited quantities of food, nap shamelessly on the couch afterwards, and then get up and have seconds, all without any pressure other than which dessert to sample first.
And if anyone deserves a nap, it’s me. Seriously, I’m not even hosting the dinner and I’ve still been cooking for two and half hours already.
Then there is the fake reason that everyone loves Thanksgiving, which is to give thanks for all the wonderful things in life and let everyone know how much you appreciate them. Yawn.
Kidding! I know everyone and their mother is going to write a list of things for which they are thankful, and I am no exception.
I am thankful for my friends, who do fun things like pieluck dinners and Freedom Trail pub crawls and book clubs. I am thankful that they make me want to defy my introspective nature and go out and party like it’s 1999. I am grateful that they like to explore the city with me, that we can have a discussion about art or movies, that they’ll indulge my love of Indian food. I am grateful that I have friends all over the country at different stages in their lives, some married with children, some single and loving it, but all of them amazing.
I am thankful for a family that has always supported me in whatever I chose to do with my life. I am thankful for my aunts and uncles, my cousins, and my godson, all of whom I adore. I am thankful for my father, who, despite having an uncanny knack for knowing exactly what will annoy me the most, can always be counted on for an intelligent conversation and a candy bar or two. I am thankful for my sister, who sends me twenty seven emails a day, most of them one word each, but who can always convince me to do something I might not do otherwise. And mostly I am thankful for my mother, who always says the right thing at the right time, can make me laugh the hardest, who cries when I cry, who calls me to tell me the morning news, the person who most shaped who I am today.
I am thankful for Chris, who knows the best way to get me out of a cranky mood is to ignore it and make me laugh. I am thankful that he loves me when I am tired or sick, happy or sad, quiet or boisterous. I am thankful that he is hilarious and sweet and thoughtful and intelligent and caring. I am thankful that he gives change to homeless people, that he believes in doing good things, and that he recycles, even though I still can’t get him to stop leaving every light in the house on. I am thankful that we found each other at the exact right time in our lives and that I can love him and not have to worry about whether or not he loves me because I just know. I am also very grateful that we can be silly together because it makes me happy to know we are goofy in the same ways.
I am thankful for all my readers and commenters, whom I have grown to love in my own special internet way. Sometimes a comment can make my day just a little bit brighter. Really, my readers should all consider themselves my friends, as I would be just as happy to have them come stay with me as I would my friends that I’ve known forever.
And, you know, turkey. Because, yeah. That stuff is amazing.
Happy Thanksgiving everyone!
Nov
21
Pieluck Dinner
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Last night I needed a few things at the grocery store because we were invited to a pieluck dinner and unless there is a pie recipe that involves curry and chickpeas I did not have the ingredients to bake anything. You may also be wondering what exactly a pieluck dinner is, and you would do well to wonder, since I wondered the exact same thing. From what I can tell it will involve copious amounts of pie (duh) as well as a sizeable selection of adult beverages. And that’s it! I also just talked to the friend who will be hosting the pieluck and she informed me that we will each be expected to consume at least a half of a pie each, so I guess a nutritious salad beforehand is out of the question as I will need all the room in my stomach for key lime, pumpkin, chocolate cream, apple rhubarb, and pecan. And I guess that will be my reward for making it through a half day of work today.
What was I talking about? I got carried away by the thought of pie. Oh yes, the grocery store! We decided that since most of the grocery stores around here are outrageously pricey, especially when we try to cook organic and/or healthy foods, we would try the “gross” grocery store. Really it’s only me that calls it gross, and that is because when I was younger my grandmother would bring me there and it always smelled faintly like throw up and there was always sawdust sprinkled on the orange- and yellow-tiled floors. And I always imagined that the sawdust was there to clean up the puke I smelled, which, in retrospect, it probably was, but why were people throwing up so frequently in the grocery store? Plus, my grandmother knew the life history of every single person in that grocery store, employee and shopper alike, and going to the “gross”ery store always seemed to be a boring day-long event.
Anyway, there happens to be the same chain of grocery stores not far from where I live, but in the straight gangsta section of the city. We decided to brave it anyway and headed out into the misty night. And so began the descent into madness. The lure of cheap groceries two days before Thanksgiving must have been too much for people; as soon as I hit the parking lot I knew we had made a mistake. I have never seen anything like it, it was mayhem. I wouldn’t have been surprised if I had heard gunshots fired over parking spaces. So, being the geniuses that we are, we parked on the street directly across from the grocery store and walked past the line of cars scouting spots as people exited the store. Seriously, it was worse than the Best Buy parking lot on Black Friday. Worse than the mall on Christmas Eve. Just worse.
Once inside it was no better. Lines and carts and crying babies, by the time I got to an aisle I would forget what I needed in my intense desire to leave. So we grabbed what we could remember and compromised by saying we would pick up the rest today. Because yeah, I’m sure the grocery store will be so much better today. Wish me luck.
The only other thing I have to say is thank baby Jesus today is a half-day at school. Plus, the last period of the day on the day before Thanksgiving, we have an annual tradition at our school: PIG RACES! I swear, if only someone would get it on video I would put it up on youtube for you people because I know for a fact you have never seen anything like it. Even our Principal, who normally wears the same jacket and tie every day of the year and is not exactly known for his reputation as being “fun” dons pig slippers and a jester hat and really gets into the school spirit. Keep in mind this is the same man who claims “there is no place for a mascot at our school” because it might encourage the kids to be competitive. So the pig races are the only time of year that he really lets the kids go all out with signs and screaming and cheering and it is a sight to behold. Some of the teachers hate it because they are all about “decorum” and “not losing their hearing”, but of course I think it’s hilarious and it’s one of my favorite events of the school year.
Every homeroom names their pig the week before the race and hangs up signs all over the school promoting him. Here are some of my favorite pig entries from this year:
Hameron Diaz
Lindsey LoHam
Pig Papi
Virgina Baked
Arnold Schwarzenhogger
Jamaican Bacon
Spider Pig
Piggy Longstocking
Shaquille O’Squeal
Ted
Happy Day Before, and safe travels, people. I’ll see you all tomorrow for some giving of thanks.