TMI

Dear reproductive system,

Really?

I mean...really?

First, you run a week and a half late and yet now you're right smack dab to-the-hour on time?

Two and a half weeks, reproductive system.  I want more than two and a half weeks.

No love,

Me

Closer and Closer

A couple of weeks ago, I got dreadfully behind.  I was spending most weekends trying to catch up on enough work just to get the kids through next week.  I'm not complaining, really -- I'm proud that I offer my students age-appropriate and yet functional activities.  It just takes a lot of work to get there.

Each week, it's been something.  First, it was being sick.  Then, it was finding out about New Boy B (who's been at school once since last Wednesday).  Then, it was...I don't remember what it was last week.

This week, it was the training Primary Teacher M and I went to on Wednesday.  Mileage-wise, it's about an hour a day.  But rush hour on the 210 was not something I wanted to contemplate, so I stayed at a hotel in the area.

Which, of course, effectively knocked out one night of work.

Then, when the conference (at the hotel near the Pomona Fairplex) was over, I chatted with Teacher M a while about what I'd learned about creating visual schedules for students with autism at another training.

I'd already had vague notions of zipping down the 57 to go to Sonic for a slush, and at one point thought that having dinner by myself at Disneyland might be fun -- 'cause, you know, what kind of crowds could there be on a Wednesday afternoon?

Anyway, I'm driving down the 10 when I see the outbound traffic from either the 210 or the 57.  Yeesh.  Off to Anaheim I went.

Only to be presented with a parking structure that was 5 out of 6 floors full.  On a freaking Wednesday afternoon.

Okay, I think, more and more people have annual passes...who knows?

The number of school-aged kids in the park was staggering.  What was even more so was the number of people I heard marvelling over random things like they'd never been there before.  What the heck?

Anyway, I got a lot done -- rode Soarin', then went to Taste Pilots Grill for dinner (I wanted ribs, which I never order when I'm wish someone 'cause they're kinda expensive, but they were out), then caught some of the new Pixar Play Parade.  So I headed over to Disneyland, where I rode Buzz, Space Mountain, Big Thunder Mountain, saw the Tiki Room, and did Pirates.

Plus, waited in a godawful slow line for a Dole Whip Float only to have the Tiki Room start and have to get out of line with ONE PERSON IN FRONT OF ME (Patrick never wants to see the Tiki Room, and I figured since I was by myself....).  So afterwards, I got a churro and sat on the drawbridge for the castle for a fairly nice, though somewhat tree-obstructed, view of the Parade of Dreams.

My thinking, of course, was: if I'm not going to get home until 8:00 anyway 'cause I'll be sitting in bumper-to-bumper traffic, why not go do something fun for a few hours, and get home at 9:00?

But of course, I got nothing done that night.

To be fair, while I was at the hotel, I got the following accomplished:

*  News-2-You for next week

*  Page 1 of journals (today is, yesterday was, etc.)

*  Name/signature practice for journals (2 days a week)

*  Math pages for journals (2 days a week)

So the fact that I got everything else done tonight but homework and vocabulary practice for journals for next week is good, right?

Ewwww

Okay, so, I know that actors do not equal characters.  Really, I do.

But it's still squicky to be flipping channels (all 7 of 'em here at the hotel I'm staying at to go to a training tomorrow) and see someone who is firmly entrenched in my mind as M's mom, in the middle of a sex scene.

And He's a Better Writer, Too!

A while back, I tried to explain why I had misgivings about the J.J. Abrams Star Trek movie.

Wil Wheaton -- yes, Wesley Crusher -- just explained it so much better than me.

I Have No Words

Seriously.  No words.

(Well, I suppose, "To each his own," but...yeah....)