I'm a Star, Bitches!

Or, my former student is.

Miles Teller, LHS 2005 grad and former student of yours truly, has just been cast as "Willard" in the remake of Footloose. Why is this significant? Because I was the GENIUS who originally cast him in this part in 2003. He even says as much:

"You, my dear, are a casting director in waiting, and I can't wait for the story of how all of this happened to come out! Who would've guessed that one little musical could've completely changed my direction in life and jump-started what I believe to be a long road of success." -Miles Teller, 6/22/2010

He's been very kind about crediting me with getting him started. But to watch his recent work, you'd know that he is naturally gifted and an honest actor. It gives me goosebumps to think I had even a morsel to do with all this.

He stays loyal and always informs me personally of his roles. We're still waiting for the indy-film, Rabbit Hole, to come out maybe sometime this Fall. That one stars Nicole Kidman.

Footloose is set to hit theaters in Spring 2011.

Here is an article and press release.

I won't embarrass him with a picture of his original portrayal.

Simple Cause and Effect

This



















causes this,















which, in turn, leads to this.



















Time for a new couch.

Well, Ain't That Some Shit?

So, we went to the girls' first swim lesson last night. It started at 7pm at Bicentennial Pool. We got there early and were the first to arrive. As we walked up to the gate, we were greeted with a sign that read the pool was closed due to "contamination." We actually already knew the situation because a lifeguard told us in the parking lot. Another lady and her two children walked up right behind us. She was Hispanic and spoke broken English. A swim instructor walked over to us and tried to explain gingerly what the problem was. Lady wasn't getting it. Finally the instructor stops dancing around the topic and blurts, "someone pooped in the pool."

Well, that sent my girls over the edge. They laughed like it was the most hilarious thing they'd ever heard. Melanie is repeating "somebody pooped in the pool." Belle is pulling one of her favorite tricks: she's bent over at the waist, hands behind her back, making farting sounds. Melanie joins in. More people are walking up at this point. Everyone is crystal clear on the situation now as my girls are providing illustrations.

Melanie wouldn't shut up about poop in the pool the entire ride home. Why is poop talk so funny to a 4-year-old?


I told Chad, "See, I did everyone at Adventure Island a favor by not reporting my incident. Nobody missed out on the fun."

Shameless Plug

Since I know that you, my many (if many can be defined as more than 3) followers are literate and enjoy reading, I thought I'd throw you a tip.

Start reading the Rizzoli and Isles Thrillers by Tess Gerritsen. I started with The Surgeon, which is the first in the series. I downloaded it to my Kindle because it was only $1.99 and sounded interesting. I couldn't put it down. Then I read The Apprentice, which was just as good. Now I'm on The Sinner. There are 8 in the series.

Jane Rizzoli is the only woman Homicide Detective in the Boston Police Department. Maura Isles is a medical examiner. They work together on cases. Rizzoli is tough as nails and puts up a macho front. Isles is well put together and no nonsense. Other recurring characters are the members of the Homicide unit. Every book has a different murder mystery. Isles isn't in the first book. She is introduced in the second, but doesn't play a major role until the third. I get the feeling that the author didn't originally intend to write a series, but kept on writing because the characters were so popular. The books have crime, suspense, thrill, forensics, romance, but best of all, really solid characters. They're like crack. I'm hooked.

The series is being made into a drama on TNT called Rizzoli and Isles starting this July. Here is a conversation with Tess Gerritsen about the series.



This is her website.

When I read a really good book, I want others to read it too so we can talk about it. I'd loan it out, but that's the one downside of a Kindle.

Enjoy!

5 am. Oh, How I Hate Thee.

Belle has a nasty habit of climbing into our bed somewhere between 3-5am. We've been lazy about curtailing this because of work. Now, that I'm off, this has to stop. When Chad gets up for work, she's up and wants her "ceweeal." Translation = I'm up at 5am on my "summer break."

Melanie got up unusually early this morning as well.

Aside from being tired, I don't mind getting up really early. I can usually do some reading and hop on the internet while they watch their morning programs.

This morning, however, was go time.

A transcript of my dialogue with Melanie:

I'm on the computer.

“Hi, Mommy. Can I stand here by you?”

“Sure, baby. What is that smell? Is that my….? BELLE! Melanie, why didn’t you tell me?” Probably because she helped. Belle is covered head-to-toe in lotion.

“Mommy! Belle has makeup!

“Thank you for telling me, baby.” I lock everyone, including myself, out of my bathroom.

“Mommy! Belle has a marker!”

“Mommy! Belle has Chapstick! I told on her 3 times.” I hate that f'ing kitchen drawer. It’s an abyss of shit toddlers should never touch.

“Mommy! Belle has nail polish!”

“Mommy! Belle has nail polish again!” Benny Hill music should be playing. We're all repeating the same cyclical motions. Belle goes into her bathroom; hauls said item out to the living room. I walk over to her. She hands me said item. I put it out of reach ( I think.)

“Mommy! Belle has more lotion!” I lock us all out of their bathroom. I’ll pick both bathroom locks later.

Time is now 6:45 am.

I hear a chair being dragged across the tile. This means she wants something completely (or so I think) out of reach.

Oh no you didn’t! She’s messing with my Kindle.

Looks like we’re going to school early today.

How can you be mad at this face, though?

Just When You Want to Kill Them...

They go and do something sweet and angelic. 

Mayhem

This week's events:

Melanie slathered body lotion in Belle's hair.

Which was followed by their favorite pastime, rifling through my drawers.

Yes, that's a tampon.

No, it has not been used.

Yes, I was here when this happened.

Belle also flushed a 3 inch hard fishing lure down my toilet. In a slow motion "NOOOOOOOOOO," I fished in after it (pardon the pun). Away it swirled.

A few days ago, they'd gone into the refrigerator, taken out the ham for dinner, hauled it into my bedroom, and were jumping on it.

Yesterday morning, they kept getting into the freezer. I found Melanie with a tub of ice cream in the living room. They each helped themselves to a popsicle. The coup de grace was a bag of frozen chicken on the living room carpet.

My solution.

Their response.

I'm thinking of full-time preschool during the summer.

Isn't it Ironic?

Literally a few hours after I finally signed my contract for next school year (the Teamsters would have been proud of my 3-week holdout), I got another job offer. I don't think I'm going to accept.

It's a tutor coordinator for an SES tutoring company. I'd be in charge of student and tutor recruitment in 3 counties, including Citrus. The work is from home, which is good. The biggest negative is that the pay isn't consistent. It's based on the number of students enrolled. If I were to leave my current job, I'd need to be guaranteed a certain salary with a set number of hours.

I'm still waiting to hear if my request to work 3/4 time will be approved. Things don't look optimistic. I'd take a pay cut, but wouldn't report to work until 9:00am. I'd teach the same number of classes, but with no planning period. The Union has issues with that. If I didn't sign the contract soon, it was going to expire. I may have been out of a job altogether.

I feel like the only way I could justify leaving is if a full-time virtual teaching position came my way.

The mornings aren't getting any easier, though. Even going in 30 minutes later (students are gone), we had a meltdown over socks, or something insignificant like that. Yesterday, I asked Melanie why she was crying. She said she didn't know. I don't either. At least she's honest.

At any rate, today was my last day. I don't report back (maybe) until August 2.