So if you haven't read the Twilight series, you really do need to. It will be all the talk this year when the movie comes out. And I love how one of the few MAJOR best sellers to happen this year is a YA novel. And it's a love story. Specifically...a vampire love story. And I applaud this. Because frankly, it's about time someone came out of the closet, stood up and said, "I love vampires." When you love a vampire, you have to be true to yourself. So now people will read this book and maybe have the courage to say, "I, too, love a vampire. Fangs make me weak in the knees."

But since this is a book for teens (not that millions of adults aren't reading it because they totally are), I feel it is my responsibility as an adult to offer caution to you vampire lovers. There are some things to consider when you have the hots for a vamp. Or a werewolf, as in book two.

Things to Ponder If You Are Considering Crossing Over to Vampire Lovin'

1. Vampires do not eat "real" food. So when you go on that first date and you order a salad because you want him to think you are a salad type of girl (even though you really want the cheese burger), know that he will eat...nothing. He will pick at his food and try to get you to think he's eating, but he's not. And then at the end of the night you will look at your empty salad bowl and his still-full plate and feel like a total pig even though YOU ONLY ORDERED A SALAD!!! Do you need that kind of abuse on your self-esteem?

2. You cannot watch Jeopardy with him. Keep in mind this dude's probably been around a hundred or so years. Do you realize how annoying he will be at Jeopardy? And what an attitude he'll have? "Um, you don't know that one? Oh, yeah, that's right because you weren't THERE for World War I like I was." Totally obnoxious, even though you might completely clean up if you luck into an entertainment category and Trebek asks something about Britney.

3. You will always have to coach him on his clothing choices. This guy has lived through a lot of decades and a lot of trends. Just when he stops wearing the greased back hair and penny loafers, he'll show up at school in short shorts, Cons, and tube socks up to his knees. Not cool.

4. He's cold. All the time. The book says your vampy boyfriend will feel like hugging on the statue of David. Nothing cozy about that. I know from personal experience...

5. In this series, he sneaks into Bella's room and watches her sleep every night. He moves so fast he's almost invisible. Girls, there are things that boys just don't NEED to see. It ruins our glamorous illusion. Do you really want him to have all access to everything? Bathroom visits, belting it out in the shower, zit popping, our hair when we wake up, your secret Josh Groban CD collection...

6. And as for her fascination and friendship with the werewolf, Jacob? The vampire tells her that hanging out with the werewolf makes her smell like a dog. I had to finally cut off all ties with friends who made me smell like a dog. I know it's hard, but girls are supposed to smell like shampoo or flowers...not like a German Shepherd.

7. Lots of people are really pulling for Bella to choose the werewolf over Edward, the vampire. I tend to disagree. You know even in his human form the werewolf has to be one hairy guy. What if you marry him and have children?
"Which one is your daughter?"
"Oh, that's her. The one with the chest hair."

So read the books and decide for yourself. I think I wouldn't opt for either vamp or werewolf, but if you do, there are consequences to consider. It shouldn't be taken lightly.

Off to watch American Idol. Paula totally needs a date with a vampire...

First of all, thanks to the flu, I taught one single day last week. And even though we got this MIRACULOUS snow day with nothing but rain, which meant I could've gone to the mall guilt-free in between GMA and Oprah, I was logging in more couch time clutching a box of Puffs. Seriously, my butt bonded more time with the couch last week than in the last few years combined. I think there's a permanent sag in the middle.

Here are a few things I found help with the flu.
1. A digital thermometer. I became obsessed with taking my own temp. I would play this game where I would feel my own head, guess a number (101.2!), and then fire up the thermometer. If I was wrong, I would continue checking my temp for a good hour knowing I'd be right at some point. My TV selections were low, so one does what one has to to entertain oneself. And I did have a new Cosmo Girl to read, but Hannah Montana was on the cover, so I couldn't bring myself to read it. Miley Cyrus is a little abrasive when you're sick and your temperature won't cooperate.

2. Diet Dr. Pepper. Sickness is always an excuse to fall off the wagon. Nobody holds you responsible for your own actions. Also nobody holds you to any standard of personal hygiene, but I'll spare you the details.

3. Chips Ahoy. Enough said.

4. Kleenex with lotion. During a break in fever, I ran to the grocery store and bought myself some serious tissues. The man who bagged my groceries starting singing Puff the Magic Dragon. I didn't really have a response to that, so in lieu of kind words, I just tried not to breathe on him instead. It was the best I could do.

5. A library of things recorded or DVRd. The statistical chances of TV being to your liking when you are quarantined to your house are about as good as your fortune cookie numbers matching up with the lottery. I thought daytime TV mostly targeted stay at home moms. If so, then why were my viewing choices Bride of Chucky, The Fog, and an American Haunting? In the daytime! Of course there's always the two hour birthing block of A Baby Story on TLC, a television concept that still eludes me and has me reaching for the remote faster than I can sneeze.

6. Midol. I don't know why, but Midol is just the wonder drug. I didn't have cramps. I didn't have mood swings. But if you want to get a good night's sleep and forget about snot for a while, I highly recommend it. Some people prefer chugging NyQuil, but I refuse to drink stuff the color of antifreeze.

So everyone I know was out this week with the flu. Beware. It's evil, evil stuff. I strongly suggest you gather some movies, some Mylie Cyrus-less magazines, and begin stock piling some things on the DVR. When your day comes you will want better entertainment than water births and murderous dolls with bad dental hygiene.

Finally, a friend (who also has the flu) and I are crazy about this commercial. Top O' the mornin' to ya...

That makes anyone feel better!

Okay, who the HECK gave me this stinkin' cold? Whoever you are, whoever DARED to breathe your germ breath on me, you KNOW who you are, and you're EVIL. My nose is about to rot off from all the Kleenex. And NOTHING was on TV today. NOTHING.

I tried to watch Regis and Kelly, but Kelly is so skinny I got mad. Then on The View they were talking about exercise equipment. YAWN!!! Then I tried to take in some General Hospital, and I haven't really watched it in a few years, and I'm like WHO are these people? Where are Luke and Laura? Frisco and Felicia? Anna and Scorpio?

Then What Not to Wear came on and it was okay. After that some show was on like Ten Years Younger maybe? They put you in a clear box in the middle of the city and let 100 (one hundred!!) people stop by, comment on you, and guess your age, which will be like 50 years older than you really are. And the participant has this horrible sob story of being made fun of and feeling unworthy. And the host says, "Great! Okay, let's take a look at everyone's comments!" And he plays it all back for her on a computer--every hideous comment. AUGHH! The contestant didn't look too scarred, but I wanted to call in a double order of some anti-depressants for myself!

Then Ellen bored me with a cooking segment (see reaction to exercise equipment), and I can't even remember what Dr. Oz was talking about on Oprah.

And in between all that and blowing my nose and chugging illegal OJ (How I've missed you!) I read a lot more of Eclipse. This book bothers me. It just does. I still don't relate to having the hots for a vampire as a teen girl. Of course, when I was in high school, I had the hots for a man named Tom Cruise, so what do I know? But in this book, not only does the main character, Bella, have her vampy boyfriend, but she also has the opportunity to drop him for her best friend Jacob--who's a werewolf. I once dated a guy who didn't wear his seatbelt and thought THAT was living on the wild side.

Okay, we interrupt your regularly scheduled blog for a good nose blowing session, so I will finish my rant on why girls should never date non-humans later in the week.

Before I go, I wanted to share this commercial that STILL makes me laugh. I know everyone's seen it, but the part where the wolf spits that bird out and starts singing without missing a beat CRACKS me up.

Did you see his eyes and facial expression? That's good stuff.

More later.
When phlegm isn't swimming in my head and it's not 60s night on American Idol.

Occasionally there are some funny things in our high school announcements. Like this event:
Second Annual Shark Dissection/AP Biology Lock In

I ask you, who the HECK wants to have a slumber party so you can cut up a SHARK? Of course, I'm the one who took a whole batch of obscure science classes in college so I would never have to dissect anything worse than a tree limb.

One of the students who gave me the illegal Valentine's Day cookies took me to task for not including her original poem on the blog. So I wanted to be sure and remedy that and share her amazing rhyming skills with the world. Prepare yourself for greatness.

Ms. Jones, Oh Ms. Jones
We should go out to get a cone.

You are my favorite teach.
Every day we gave a speech.
You are the host of our Kraft Klub.
We only had one good sub.

You are so great
You make me want to love and not to hate.

You teach us yoga.
You'd look awesome in a toga.

I wrote this poem just for you.
Instead of the boring roses are red, violets are blue.
-Karly K, co-creator of the KK Kraft Klub.

I have to admit, it's hard to find a word to rhyme with "yoga." That's some good poetry, right there.

So I read this book Friday night.

People have been telling me for YEARS to read the Stephanie Plum series by Evanovich. I just never got around to it. But Friday I picked up a copy and gave it a try. And I really liked it! I didn't like how minimal the mystery was, but this girl is snappy, sarcastic, and funny. Somebody you'd want to hang out with. So if that's your style, then definitely check it out. Okay, I know everyone on the planet's already read it, but if you're one of the five (like me) who haven't, then you need to get with it. Because we have a lot of catching up to do. I think there are 489 more books in the series.

So before I move on to another Stephanie Plum novel, I'm trying to read book three in the Twilight series. (Soon to be a movie. Check it out on imdb.com if you want to see who the lead characters are. Not sure how I feel about them yet.)

I liked book one, Twilight. Book two, New Moon, was okay. And book three...well, all my students SWEAR it's great. So I will continue. But I'm not loving it. I'm sorry, I don't relate to wanting to give up your life so you can be a blood sucking vampire for all eternity like your boyfriend. Girls, if you find yourself in this kind of situation, do not give into vapmire peer pressure. And I know, it's been a while since I was a teenager and times have changed. I feel that is a touchy topic though and probably one best discussed with your mothers.

Okay, going to get ready to greet Monday.
Have a great week.

Teaching has it's moments, it really does. One of my favorite birthdays was made special because a group of my drama kids took it upon themselves to throw me a party in class complete with a sash, crown, beautifully tacky jewelry, Jones Soda, and my own director's chair.

Today two students shared some Valentine's Day cookies with me. We all have this mandatory study hall at our school 2x a week. It's 90 minutes of torture (er, homework) for everyone. So even though Karly and Kenslee are not in my study hall, they have adopted my room as the place to have their "craft club." Or more specifically the Karly Kenslee Kraft Klub. (Translation: Ms. Jones lets us avoid our homework under the disguise of knitting, Valentine making, cookie icing and any other random thing they can pull out of their ninth grade ears.)

Anyway, they decorated their cookies during KKKK time, and I thought I'd display them on the blog.


Aren't they cute? Some of their designs are rather, um...clever?
Here's what I teach. Also known as Speech.
These two have no problem speaking. None. They speak quite well. And often.

This one is an artistic representation of my hair. Or what they found in their cafeteria burrito. Not sure which.


Know what this one is?

It's the Love Boat.

And the U + the blob?
Yep, it's "You Rock." They were going to write, "Thank you for getting us out of an hour and a half of pretending to do homework" but it wouldn't fit.

Here's one I like to call Barack and Hillary.

Or if you squeeze your left eye shut and only look with your right it's George and Laura Bush. (Actually it looks more like George and Lindsay Lohan, but that would just be silly.)

And it's cookies like this that will get them a pass to come back next week.



And you know I can't eat this stuff. So I was really good. I didn't have one.
Nope.
I had four.

I finished my book today. Sent it off to the publisher. Free at last! And I celebrated by getting illegal fajitas with illegal guacamole and illegal chips. All that was missing was an illegal Diet Coke! But there's always this weekend...

I then topped off the memorable day by a shot to the butt. Because why let the fun stop with fajitas?

I will stop talking about shots eventually, but I'm still in the "I'm so proud for being able to administer self-inflicting pain" stage. Though I'm about ready to tattoo a bulls-eye on my bum. My aim is not so good...

So check out TitleTrakk.com HERE if you'd like to see a few authors' take on Saint Valentine's Day. I really like Creston Mape's response, and frankly my own smarmy little quote just doesn't even compare.

Also I have a new reviewer. It's seventeen year old "KT" and I totally choked up at what she had to say about In Between. If it's not too obnoxious to share, you can read it HERE. And I appreciate her proud mom for pointing it out to me.

Okay, have a great Valentine's Day. Buy your sweetie some of those conversation hearts. Because nothing says I love you like heart shaped chalk. Yum.

It's been an interesting week of a down-scaled diet. I dare you to look at this picture and NOT shed a tear.

That's an entire trash bag of "no-no" foods. I practically chased the trash truck down the street as they carried it off. But I knew I had to let it go. Set it free.
Plus I have contraband snacks stashed throughout the house, so whatever.

I'm a total grazer. I'm used to eating every few hours. Love me some food. And since there's a pretty short list of things I can eat right now, I'm drinking more water out of sheer boredom. Instead of opening my fridge and seeing the good stuff, this is the sad sight I face daily.

"Oh, I'm hungry. I'm going to go raid the fridge. Do I want water...or water?"

And since I drink all that water, I spend a lot more reflective time here.

If peeing were a sport, I would ready for the major leagues.

So last Friday night I saw Casting Crowns.

A friend got us free tickets on the floor. It was really great. But loud. As in two hours later you're still deaf type of loud. That's some good stuff.
This portion of a concert always makes me a little sad.

It's "shine your cell phone" time. It used to be "wave your lighter" time. Not that I ever had a lighter. I wasn't that cool. (No, smoking is not cool, but taking a lighter to a concert equaled cool.) I just don't find myself caught up in a really good song and think, "You know what this moments needs? My cell phone!" But security really isn't into lighters. Or spotlights. Or MagLites. Or those laser pointer thingies. Or flares. Pity.

Okay, well, I have a book to finish, American Idol to watch, and two different fronts to track on the Super Dopplar. And chips not to eat. And cheese to avoid. And popcorn to throw away...

So a few weeks ago God granted us a miracle in some sled-worthy snow. Schools for miles around were closed for two days in a row. (Some were closed today due to some light ice, but I can't discuss that without crying.)

Anyway my friend Holly has the perfect area behind her house to sled.

You just have to be able to dodge a few of these.


And there were a few wild beasts. Like this one.

And snow affects us all in different ways. Ol' Stormy gets out in the snow and feels the need to. . . poop. Seriously. Like every five minutes. What is that about?

"We all contribute to the snow day in our own ways."

Yeah, lots of yellow snow to be had.
And you're never too young to enjoy a day of sledding.

"Is anyone chaffed? I have some fabulous Boudreaux's Butt Cream that works wonders...Highly recommended."


"Oh, my. I can vouch for that."

And speaking of burning sensations, there were a few accidents.
But that's the risk we're willing to take, you know? Actually, I'm grateful to this person for clearing out a few rocks. Because that would've hurt. And I would've let everyone know about it. I think the rock broke her kneecap, but in keeping with Snow Day Code, article 203b, she did not ask to be taken to the ER. We were burning daylight and had no time for that.

Chance of some ice tonight. I'm hoping for freezing temperatures!!!
Have a great week.

Oprah and I finally have something in common besides curly hair. It’s an amazingly fun thing called hypothyroidism. Today, after years of “what the heck is wrong with me?” I finally got my diagnosis. Turns out I’m not just naturally lazy. There’s a reason I long to take a nap at any given point of the day. I’m now excusably lazy! (And somehow this belongs on a t-shirt)

So today we got some unexpected snow and ice. Not much, just enough to mess up the morning commute. Normally that would thrill me and have me watching the news for closings, but today I HAD to get to this appointment. Had I known what was waiting for me two hours away, I might have stayed home.

I got three shots in the bootay. The first two I had to administer myself. That was camera worthy. (I’m not into pain.) The doctor showed me how it was done, got me set up, needle poised in my hand, and kept saying, “Okay, now. Jennifer, now’s good. STICK THE NEEDLE IN!!!” But when you’re about to violate your own butt cheek, these things take finesse and time. You can’t rush into it. I personally felt like I should’ve said a few words of comfort and bolstering to my back side before inflicting punishment, but Dr. C didn’t agree.

When it was time for the third shot the good doctor took over. She said there would be a little more “stinging.” Stinging? That woman lit my butt ON FIRE. She said, “If I started with that one, nobody would stick around for the other two.” Um, ya THINK? So like eight hours later I’m still not quite right. I have a derrière disability. A gluteus maximum gimping. I don’t know what was in that last shot, besides liquid lightning, but it could be used to torture the truth out of criminals.

And if you’re one of my students reading this and you even dare to mention butt shots to me, I will wipe out your grade, do you hear me??? (Just kidding, parents. I would never do that. That’s threatening a students. That’s wrong.) (Seriously kids, zero tolerance. I have access to our grade server. I can make sure your graduation is light years away.)

Other fun effects of today’s appointment include a new diet I must follow for at least a month. Chocolate is not allowed. WHAT THE HECK??? Is life even worth living? Is there a thyroid transplant wait list so a girl can get some chocolate? And I can’t eat wheat supposedly for like ever. That’s like telling me I’m allowed to only breathe through one nostril. Nearly impossible! So I’ll be eating figs and lettuce and cardboard for the next few months. Should put me in a real fine mood. My first hour class eats Pop Tarts in front of me every morning. I have a feeling tomorrow am. I’m gonna turn into that witch from Little Mermaid on them. Totally hulk out and beg them for their icing crumbs.

After all this, you know what I need? A snow day.
And a box of Twinkies.