School Shooting ..My View

Okay, so I haven’t discussed the Connecticut School Shooting because my view is not going to be popular.  But, you know what?  I don’t care.  This blog is my honest opinion.  It is not meant for popularity purposes and other people have to feel this way too and probably don’t want to admit it.  Please remember, it’s an Opinion, Not a Debate.  You can have a different opinion if you so choose.  Here I go:

The children!  The  children!  The poor children!  Yes, he shot the children and I do feel bad about that.  Children are innocent and don’t deserve to die that way.  However, what about the adults that were shot and killed?  The teachers or/and other school administrators?  Do their lives count too?

One Pastor said there were 20 more stars up in heaven now.  Wait, 20?  He is not counting the adults that were killed, he was only counting the children.  So, the adults did not become stars.  One commenter when hearing that said they believed the adults would have stars or patches of light around those stars protecting those 20.  You know those adults have families too.  They were Mothers, Friends, Wives, Sisters, Cousins, etc.  I don’t know if any men died but if so, they may have been Fathers, Uncles, Cousins, Friends, etc. and they were all Co-Workers and School-Administrators or Teachers in some capacity.

And what about the shooters mother?  Did she deserve to be shot in the face by her own son?  From what I’ve heard, she made the wrong choices but she cared.  Obviously, teaching him how to use firearms was not the way to go.  But, she was a Mother, a Friend, an Ex-Wife, and a very, caring person.

In conclusion, although they died and once again, I am very sorry for that.  Why is it all and entirely about the children?  They were not the only ones affected?

 

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Dating Memories #3 – A Friend, Not A Date

A Friend – Not A Date

Our high school held a dance.  I don’t remember if it was Roaring 20’s but it was a fun, dress-up type dance and anyone asked anyone to go. It was not a formal dance.  I asked a “friend”..Renton, not a boyfriend, to the dance.  Renton agreed to going as “friends only” which was great because I was totally looking forward to dancing with Henry if he was there.  Most of the dancing would be “group dancing” anyway but Henry was totally popular and friendly and it was the only time I would ever get to dance with him.  It was agreed that Renton would drive since he supposedly had just gotten his license.  Well, he picked me up along with his mother because he technically did not have his license but only had a permit.  I can’t imagine what his mother thought since he didn’t explain to her what type of dance it was nor why I was dressed the way I was.  Of course, he didn’t dress up.

Then, we went to dinner.  His mother dropped us off at Del Taco which wasn’t far from the school and Renton told me we were going to have to walk to the school from the restaurant.  Nobody else was in Del Taco but I was totally embarrassed and the workers in Del Taco could not believe that’s where we went for dinner before the dance.  Needless to say, I did not eat much and Renton could not help but comment about me being a cheap date as I nibbled on my small french fries.  Walking to the school was not fun in the shoes and outfit I was wearing either by the way.

So, we get to the dance and I figure the night can only get better but it gets worse as Renton gets mad upon discovering I want to dance with Henry.  Hello?  This is not supposed to be a date. Remember?  We are here as “just friends.”  Needless to say, Renton refuses to dance with me the rest of the evening by faking a hurt ankle or something and Henry and I never do get to dance alone.

As the night starts to close, Renton informs me that his mother will not be able to pick us up and we have no way home.  I’m like “What?”  He said, “He could not ask her to pick us up.  It was not part of the agreement…or something.”  Uh…yeah it was.  It’s called, “transportation.”  I was furious.  I wasn’t about to call my parents at 12:30 or whatever time and wake them up because my friend is not living up to his end of the bargain!  As, I sit there fuming and Renton lives in La-La-Land or whatever…a friend comes over and announces that they are going to the beach after the dance and invites us both to go with them.  Renton immediately says, “Yes.”  I responded with, “No., We have no way to get home, remember?”  I explain the situation to D. who invited us and she and her date offer to take us both home before going to the beach.  Problem solved.

The drive home is silent.  I had worked it out with D. to drop Renton off at his place before me.  As Renton gets out of the car and is walking to the door, D. teases me and say, “Don’t you want to help him find the way?” and I said, “He’ll find it.”

Needless to say, that was the worst Non-Date/Date I’d ever gone on.

Dating Memories #1

Let’s leave school for a while ((‘ll come back if I remember something) and talk about dating..at least my experiences when dating and how I was raised.  I’m sure a date was a lot different than now; but maybe not.  It was not like Tom Leykis days ((He was on 97.1 KLSX but is now only on the internet..wait, I think he may be on Satellite, I am not sure…Anyway, “Dating did not equal Porking” as he so fondly puts  it.)  I am going to change all the guys names to protect the innocent..er..guilty. ..uh…innocent…err..well, we aren’t together anymore so they had to be guilty, right?  Anyway, all names are changed!  I am not discussing the worst one ever!  He scares me.  I am writing a book about him.  Okay, I may gloss over him but it would be probably super quick.  I don’t want to rel-ive it on WP and in print for my book.  I can’t re-live it twice..plus, this book is taking forever to write and talking about him would be an entire journal.  Anyway..

DatingGames #1

The things you do to impress guys and the ramifications.

We won’t count when I was in Pre-School or 1st grade and my mom got a call from the teacher asking her to talk to me because I was chasing the boys in the yard kissing them.  Oh, the things I did to get the guys attention..

One time, our school had a science fair and the guy I had a crush on was selling baby frogs.   Frogs freaked me out and I was afraid to touch  them but I had to buy them because Snead was selling them.  So I bought some frogs in a jar and brought them home.  My father told me to put them in the back yard.  Well, there were two evils in the back yard.  We had a dog and we had a pool.  There was a gate between the dog and the pool and there were some bushes by the wall on the side of the pool.  I dumped the frogs in the bushes not far from the pool.  Months later, my father asked me, “Do you remember when you got those frogs from school?”  I said,  “Oh yeah, i got them from Snead.  I don’t even like him anymore.”  Dad asked, “Where did you put them?”  I said, “I put them in the bushes by the pool so Pepe wouldn’t eat them.”  Dad said, “Dog’s don’t eat frogs.  Don’t they teach you anything?  That explains why for the last week I’ve found a frog family in the filter of the pool. ”  Needless to say, I felt pretty bad about killing those frogs.

Back To School #8

I made my husband dinner yesterday which he found to be average so I had to try a tiny potato with sauce while knowing full well it was probably going to bother me.  Needless to say, I woke up with a terrible headache and stomach issues.  Oh well, my fault.  I know to stay gluten-free.   I think my husbands main problem is actually the fact that he believes I should not change a recipe.  He doesn’t cook yet believes you need to cook a recipe  by the book every time.  I mentioned I tweaked the recipe and I seriously think in his mind he immediately found something wrong with it.  Even though, I told him I used more Sausage and stuff to make it better for him.

And now to Back To School #8-

I mentioned in a previous post that I don’t go around slapping slow people.  Actually, I alway’s made friends with the Underdogs.  Here are a few examples:

In elementary  while playing in the yard, I saw a girl by herself way in the back so I ran over there and asked her if she wanted to play.  She said, “You don’t want to play with me because I’m fat.”  I said, “I’m skinny, so what?”  Then she said, “Well, I’m Jewish.”  and I said, “So, I’m Catholic. Do you want to play or not?”  Needless to say, we became friends for a while.  Our friendship did not end over our religions or our body types.

There was a boy in one of my classes that got picked on all the time.  At first I felt sorry for him.  The other students went so far as to put rubber bands under his desk (which were forbidden) so he would get kicked out of class and a few girls I know egged him on to show them his penis so he would get kicked out of school.  This was in 6th grade.  (Times were different then.  Things were more innocent and not as strict or menacing as now.)  I made friends with this boy and we have been friends ever since.  I didn’t know his home life but figured he needed a positive person to help him out.

Another boy was Roy (no, not his real name.)  Roy really wanted to learn about sex.  Sex education at school wasn’t much so he brought books to school to read and the other students made fun of him. I remember one was called, “The Woman’s Body.”  Honestly, I thought it was very brave to read and learn about it.  However:  one day he asked me this, “Would you ever take your clothes off in front of me?”  I was shocked, I was like, “Roy, NO!”  He goes, “I wouldn’t touch anything.  I just want to look.” I said, “No Roy, I can’t do that.” and he asked, “Why not?  I thought we were friends.”  I tried to explain that we are but friends don’t do that.  It’s a different type friendship level.  He needs someone like a girlfriend that he is in a relationship with.

Back To School #7

Explanation/Continuation of #6-  I just realized my last post made it sound like I go around slapping slow people.  That is not the case at all!  You would have to know A.F.  He and I were actually friends although it was a very odd friendship.

Today’s Post: 

There was an elective  class (a class other than the classes required that you could sign up for if you wanted) titled ‘Bible As Literature’ .  Now, I really wanted to take this class.  My sister recommended it and she had the same teacher quite a few years prior to me (she is 8 years older than I) plus, I alway’s read the Bible but not from the literary stand-point and was very curious.

This class was only offered as a Junior. or a Senior so as soon as I got to registration line, I beelined for that class to register.  Now, my last name started with H.  How the heck was the class filled by the time I got to the table every time?  That seemed impossible.  When this happened again as a Senior, I immediately went to the counselor’s office who told me to keep and eye on the Class Board and as soon as someone transferred out, I would get the next seat.  I checked that board before school, every break, lunch, and after.  Imagine my surprise when……

I’m sitting in Mythology bored as ever and one of the Foreign-Exchange-Students gets a note from the office before standing up and announcing, “Yah, I’m out of here!”  I said, “Great, Where are you going?” and he said…..Wait for it……”Bible As Lit.”

As soon as break/lunch came I went to the counselor’s office and demanded to know why he got in the class and I didn’t.  The counselor was walking around the yard so I followed her with my question.  “Why did ‘Juan” (probably not his name) get in the class and I didn’t?” ..she said, “You needed to watch the board.”  I said, still following her.  “I watched that board every morning, break and after school.  Why did Juan get in the class when you said I was next?” ..we kept walking.  She’s walking toward the Smoking Area.  I don’t go in there.  I don’t smoke, I hate that area but I am following her.  She said, “Well..he is a Foregn-Exchange-Student.”  We are in the Smoking Area.  I said, (Yes, I did say this…Remember, this was the 80’s.)  “I don’t care if he is from Saudi Arabia.  Why did Juan get in the class and I didn’t?”  Now, she is really flustered.  She said (remember this is High-School and we are Seniors.)..By the way she is really fustered and practcally stuttering; probably wishing to heck she hadn’t dealt with me  “Uh.Uh…His mother wrote a note.” ..I smiled and said, “Thank you very much.” and I left.

I went home.  I told my mother to “Call The School!  His mother wrote a note.  If you call the school, I have to get in the class.”  She agreed but said if I get in the class, I better get an A.  I said “Mom, its English.  Of course, I’ll get an A.”  The next day I was to report to the counselors office.

The counselor said she would meet with the teacher but if there were no spots, she did not want to hear anymore about it and I agreed.  Everything was perfectly cordial.  Imagine my surprise when she came back and said there were two spots left.

So, I got in the class and I came out with an A+ and the other thing.  I got some attention from the popular guys at the time because they didn’t know how to look up verses in the Bible and I did.. so they asked me to help them.  It was a great class!

Back To School #5

9th/10th Grade- Mr. Yatlor (Man, I enjoy making up  or messing up names..)..Mr. Yatlor was really cool.  He taught English and Art.  I was in his English Class in 9th grade and TA ed for him in 10th.  As you can see, that was sort of trend with me.  Anyway, I remember in Mr. Yatlor’s class when I really liked this guy and we were coming up to reading Romeo and Juliet in class.  I was going to read the part of Juliet and I so wanted Jack to read Romeo.  So, I talked to Mr. Yatlor one day and asked him to make Jack read Romeo.  On my gosh, it was funny.  I read my part with such feeling and he was like a brick (if bricks could read.)  He hated every minute of it, you could tell.. but I secretly won that round and I was in the clouds.  Yes, Jack really was my Romeo…or so I thought.  We actually dated after high school and that’s a whole nother story.  It turned into a nightmare of sorts because Jack was a drug addict. ..but I digress;

The students called Mr. Yatlor; “Little Hitler” behind his back because he sort of looked like him.  He was a short man, and he sort of wore his hair and mustache the same way.  He was really nice though and would let you have some fun but.. if you didn’t do the work, your grades fell short..that’s just the way it was.  He was sort of stickler that way.

Ppart of my job as Teacher’s Aide was reading the Daily Bulletin to the class and for some reason, this was the time the class decided it would be fun to talk over me.  One day, I had a plan.  Every time they started loudly talking, I stopped reading.  After this happened twice.  I lost it and yelled at them:  “Look, I don’t have to read this!”  They looked at me in shock then looked at Mr. Yatlor as if to ask if I was allowed to yell at them.  Mr. Yatlor calmly looked back at them and said, “She’s right.  She doesn’t.”

Back To School #4

When it’s 10:15 CA time and nobody’s read my blog, I guess it’s time to write a post: so here we go:

7th/8th Grade-Mr. Saksee-Science….   Mr. Saksee was awesome.  I first had him for Science in 7th grade.  He actually made Science fun.  Except the day of the frog dissection which wasn’t fun when some guy cut out the eyes of the frog and ran around like an idiot showing them off to all the girls freaking us out and cutting off the legs of the frog making them dance on his desk.  Gross!

Anyway, Mr. Saksee showed lots of films in his class.  He also had some live animals.  One of those were not fun either.  He had a snake in the back of the room along with live mice.  For some reason he chose our class in which to feed the snake almost Every time.  He would pick a volunteer (boy) to feed the snake and everyone in the class (most everyone, some of us would cover our eyes and practically cry for the mouse) would watch as the snake went after the mouse and ate the poor mouse.  He also had a beautiful Gecko named Spot.  Now, that thing was awesome!  It was beautiful with different colors all over it.  After class, I would stay and talk to Spot and yes, I would talk to Mr. Saksee too.  He had pictures of his previous students in the back room where the water sinks were.

Anyway, Mr. Saksee and I became friends, I think.  I’ll bet he would have made a great Mentor..however:

Boy, could that man embarrass me! 🙂

He nicknamed me “Bunny” for various reasons.  One day, I was sent by another teacher into Mr. Saksee’s room.  The students were in the middle of watching a film and it was dark.  I swear this really happened, Mr. Saksee stopped the film, turned on the light and said with a smile, “Bunny, it’s so good to see you!”  I think I dropped what I was going to give him and ran away.  Later, I had a little chat with him about when it is appropriate to stop films and turn on lights, etc.

Also, from then on, everyone called me “Bunny”.

I still use the nickname, “Bunny.”  My real name is very common.  If I go karaokying and there are to many people with my name, I go by Bunny.  One time, I volunteered to work with disabled children and there were to many people working there with versions of my real name so I said “Okay, you can call me Bunny.”  We had a name tag made up and everything.  The children loved it.  They laughed.  Of course, try saying the word “Bunny without smiling,  it’s a little difficult.

Back To School Story-#3

Mr. Rensk-6th Grade (No Celaniey-Girl, not even close to his name…switch the letters around and figure it out.  No true names on WP.)  Before I get into this one, you need to remember that this was in the 70’s.  Teachers were allowed to touch the students without fear of sexual harrassment all the time.  Teachers were actually trusted.  Teacher molestation was unheard of at those times.

Mr. Rensk was awesome.  He read stories to us and let us sit on his lap while he did so.  He picked different children in the class, not just one so he didn’t play favorites but he had a favorite thing to do with me.  I was the smallest child in the room, heck I was probably the smallest and thinnest child in the school due the metabolic disorder I was born with and being sick a lot.  Anyway, just for fun, Mr. Rensk would see me at at lunch and with the other students egging him on..he would literally pick me up and put me in the nearesst trash can feet first.  Usually, it was an empty trash can or maybe a few papers at the bottom..like before everyone threw the trash away..and he would only leave me there for a minute or so so everybody could laugh and have a good time.  I was way to short to get out by myself and it was always in good fun.  I will always remember Mr. Rensk with fondness.

I am trying to go by grade but memories are coming back prior so I am going backward a bit with one class I remember.  While I don’t remember the teachers name;  I do remember when I did a bad thing in class.  Now usually, I was a good girl and did the work the best I could but alway’s flunked the tests.  You said the word, “Test” and I would completely blank out and it never mattered how long I studied or what I had known..unless it was spelling because I’ve loved words.  Anyway, in this class..whatever year it was; the whole class planted flowers to learn about how they grew.  Everyone must have been at lunch or left or something because it was me and a boy there and the boy said he had a “magic potion” that would make the plants grow faster if we sprinkled it on them.  All the plants were lined up in the window with the buds or sprouts or whatever starting to show.  Well, What would you do?  Wouldn’t your classmates be excited if their plants grew quicker and they had you to thank for it?  You guessed it..I fell for it.  He gave me some white powder and both of us put it all over the plants.  Imagine my surprise coming into class the next day I think, to find a very, Angry, teacher  telling the class to thank me and whomever the boy was for killing all the plants by putting SALT on them.  Then, when she asked me why and I told her what he said, she asked me if I was stupid.  I remember that.  That’s the day I learned that salt will kill plants.

Just so you know, salt will kill snails too.  My mother taught me that one.

Story #2..Spider & Teacher or Perv

5th Grade- Had a teacher named Mr. N. (Okay, it may have started with a W,  Celaine. I will private e-mail you if you really want to know).  This teacher was weird.  I remember he had a Tarantula in a tank on the counter in the back and he sat me in the back row.  I hate spiders especially big ones and to make it worse, this thing literally kept staring at me.  It never really moved.  It just stared.  I could feel it’s eyes burning into my neck every day.  I remember one day I seriously lost it.  I yelled at the thing..In the middle of class, ” turned around, looked at it and yelled, “Stop Staring At Me!”  Yeah, everybody thought I was nuts but I didn’t care.  I don’t remember if my seat was changed after that.

Another incident with same teacher came about when I was a T.A. (Teacher’s Aid.) I’m not sure I was his T.A.  I doubt it, however, if I remember correctly,  T.A.ing was a great way to get credit without taking an actual subject..   Anyway, my friend Ardyth (who was a T.A. for the next class over) and I were in the  supply room when Mr. N. walked in.  He made a comment about my shirt.   Now I was never into wearing low-cut shirts and my mother used to say if it is to low-cut to use a safety-pin inside where no one could see it so on this day that is what I had done.  Mr. N.  came really close and started fiddling with my shirt and actually said, “What’s this? Is it a Safety Pin?”  I said, “Yes, Mr. N.  It is a Safety Pin.”  I was freaked out and my teeth were like totally clenched.  He was like way to close for comfort.  After, he left, I started to believe that maybe Mr. N. was the Perv that all the school children (I hate using the term “Kids” unless you are a Goat” called him all the time.

What I Learned In History

Since people are returning to school, it made me remember my time in school and I thought I would share a story or maybe a few.  Here is one that I hope you find interesting.

During High School, some of our teachers for general subjects such as History and Science were also the coaches for the athletics department.  This was the case for my History class.   My teacher’s name was Coach N. and he was Fine (if you know what I mean.)  He knew it too and he was a big flirt.  Sometimes the Cheerleaders or some of his ex-students would come visit during class and hang all over him.  Anyway, he would come straight from coaching and would wear these tight shorts while teaching class and he usually stood at the chalk board.

This was a problem.  He sat me in the front row facing the chalk board and my eyes were even with his. crotch.  Yeah, I know..I was supposed to be looking at the chalk board.  I can’t stand History (at least I couldn’t then.  I am into the Holocaust now and a few other things), I have no idea what he wrote on the chalk board.  This man wore Tight…really tight.. Did I mention they were tight? shorts.  He could have taught the history of his shorts and I probably wouldn’t have heard anything he said.  I saw nothing on that board.  I tried to focus.  I really did.  I tried to do the paperwork correctly and I did all the homework but…

I decided to talk to my mom, Seriously,  I said, “Mom, I think I am going to flunk History.”  When she asked me why.  I told her I thought I had a crush on my teacher.  She told me it wasn’t a crush.  Man, was she right!  What would it have been?  A crush on one part of his anatomy?  Sheesh.  She made me promise to get a D and not to flunk.  I think I got a D+ or a C- .  I don’t remember and don’t ask me if I learned anything.

Oh yeah, I learned:

Coaches should not wear tight shorts when teaching class.

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