Leftovers- it's Saturday

Saw Harry Potter last night at the Senator, but couldn't convince Mrs Ewen to wear a robe & hood.


Feel like I might watch it again tomorrow.


- JE

Fish Sandwiches

Bannister Plank

Pegasus Plank

Tree Bat

Urinal Plank

10th graders wanna plank? So we're planking. Except Nick. He's "batting."

Hot Dogs vs Italian Sausage

I was reading a bunch of your posts and thinking about what really scares people about high school, and going to college, and going on to whatever follows. At last count I've moved 17 times, mostly from house to house in the same town, but I've lived in 4 states and about 6 different cities. And every time I moved I was afraid of the same things you described in your posts. I was afraid I wouldn't know who to eat lunch with, or that I'd end up having to fight someone, or that I'd be without some vital piece of information that every other kid in the new school or the new neighborhood had in their possession and I'd look like an idiot. I was convinced that I was some sort of weirdo and that I'd be alone.
It's weird how powerfully frightening that idea of being alone can be. Great pieces of art and literature are built on just that fear (Like Andrew Wyeth's "Christina's World" above). Think of George in Of Mice and Men. Think of Dr Frankenstein creating his undead monster. The scariest of all movies are all based on being alone when the crap hits the fan. Boogeymen and serial killers fade into the forest or disappear into an alleyway when someone new walks into the scene.
One friend makes all the difference. A friend makes school an ice cream parlor when it used to be like a freezer full of unmarked leftovers. Having that person to share a look with, or decompress with after a tough test or a weird day banishes all of those lonely fears like music displaces silence. Three or four of you already alluded to this, that you sat with an old buddy then branched out as days and weeks rolled by. That's what life is - stepping out from that safe place that friends and family provide. Those little fears and frayed nerves disappear so fast.

Veal. That's what's for lunch. Gross.

So here's the thing. Veal is baby cows. And not just any baby cows. It's made from baby cows that are denied sunlight and the ability to move and only fed milk. Then they're butchered. And it's sad. Read up and see what you think. I just had the sauce.

On to movies. The best Disney movie ever made is obviously Beauty and the Beast. I mean, The Little Mermaid is awesome, but B&TB has the absolute best character of all time to hate -- Gaston. He's a punk. He's the epitome of everything men should try not to be. He's demeaning and chauvinistic and horribly pig-like. And his lines are awesome. 

The best fighting movie of all time is Bloodsport. That's because Jean Claude Van Damme is hilarious. The man really can't act, but he can punch a hole in someone's head in like five seconds. 

I'm also a sucker for Harry Potter movies - I watch them on Christmas morning when everyone else is opening presents. My least favorite character is probably that janitor guy who carries around the cat all of the time. 

Be Cool to the Pizza Delivery Dude by Sarah Adams

If I have one operating philosophy about life it is this: “Be cool to the pizza delivery dude; it’s good luck.” Four principles guide the pizza dude philosophy.

Principle 1: Coolness to the pizza delivery dude is a practice in humility and forgiveness. I let him cut me off in traffic, let him safely hit the exit ramp from the left lane, let him forget to use his blinker without extending any of my digits out the window or towards my horn because there should be one moment in my harried life when a car may encroach or cut off or pass and I let it go. Sometimes when I have become so certain of my ownership of my lane, daring anyone to challenge me, the pizza dude speeds by me in his rusted Chevette. His pizza light atop his car glowing like a beacon reminds me to check myself as I flow through the world. After all, the dude is delivering pizza to young and old, families and singletons, gays and straights, blacks, whites and browns, rich and poor, vegetarians and meat lovers alike. As he journeys, I give safe passage, practice restraint, show courtesy, and contain my anger.

Principle 2: Coolness to the pizza delivery dude is a practice in empathy. Let’s face it: We’ve all taken jobs just to have a job because some money is better than none. I’ve held an assortment of these jobs and was grateful for the paycheck that meant I didn’t have to share my Cheerios with my cats. In the big pizza wheel of life, sometimes you’re the hot bubbly cheese and sometimes you’re the burnt crust. It’s good to remember the fickle spinning of that wheel.

Principle 3: Coolness to the pizza delivery dude is a practice in honor and it reminds me to honor honest work. Let me tell you something about these dudes: They never took over a company and, as CEO, artificially inflated the value of the stock and cashed out their own shares, bringing the company to the brink of bankruptcy, resulting in 20,000 people losing their jobs while the CEO builds a home the size of a luxury hotel. Rather, the dudes sleep the sleep of the just.

Principle 4: Coolness to the pizza delivery dude is a practice in equality. My measurement as a human being, my worth, is the pride I take in performing my job — any job — and the respect with which I treat others. I am the equal of the world not because of the car I drive, the size of the TV I own, the weight I can bench press, or the calculus equations I can solve. I am the equal to all I meet because of the kindness in my heart. And it all starts here — with the pizza delivery dude.

Tip him well, friends and brethren, for that which you bestow freely and willingly will bring you all the happy luck that a grateful universe knows how to return.

Sarah Adams has held a number of jobs in her life, including telemarketer, factory worker, hotel clerk and flower shop cashier, but she has never delivered pizzas. Born in Connecticut and raised in Wisconsin, Adams now lives in Washington where she is an English Professor at Olympic Community College.

Independently produced for NPR by Jay Allison and Dan Gediman with John Gregory and Viki Merrick. Edited by Ellen Silva. Photo by Nubar Alexanian.

Taken from:

http://thisibelieve.org/essay/23/
6/30/2011

Taken from: 

First Post

Every blog needs a first post. This morning when Leah walked into science class she immediately asked "What's for lunch?" And I had no idea. Every day I get asked that question. And every day little pieces of the puzzle get filled in. I heard during 1st period that we're having pink lemonade instead of the regular lemonade. I heard someone say they thought there were cheeseburgers. There were not cheeseburgers.