CRACK WHORE!

I am now the proud owner of this...

My first baby crackberry!

A STORM is comin' your way! Now what should he wear?

BLACK LIKE ME

Very cool street art on http://unurth.com

I had the lovely opportune to play 2nd grade babysitter/teacher for an afternoon. Inquiring the length until and duration of recess was top priority being I was suppressing my texting addiction. I mean I absolutely HAD to get the latest status updates via facebook, the itinerary for MLKJ weekend, and secret attention from Argentina. With this heavy on the brain, I realized the classroom was still empty post lunch break. Lesson plans called for a supervised stroll/pick up from cafeteria to classroom. But how would I know which kids to pick up? How would the kids know I was their sub? Once I got to the gym various packs of kids were exiting so I just joined a random march, hoping I was leading the right kids back. I was assured by their size and the following statements:

"There she is!"
"Where?"
"The dark one!"
"Yeah teacher said she was dark."
"But she has blond hair like me."
"She's wearing pink shoes."
"I like her necklace."
"I told you she was our sub."

Were the children really preconditioned to know I was ethnic looking?...and stylish?

Once the chaos settled and everyone in correct seats with given correct names, I was to teach about Martin Luther King Jr. Surprisingly they knew who he was and what he did, though to this very Caucasian class the only African Americans they have seen is on TV playing for the Jazz. Leading to this next conversation. CAPS indicate extreme volume.

Me: What race is MLKJ?
Kids: A marathon!
Kids: BLACK!
Kids: LIKE YOU! HAHAHA
Me: I'm NOT black.
Kids: Yeah she's brown!
Kid: I'm Mexican! (she wasn't)
Kids: What are you then?
Me: I'm Native American
Kids: You're an INDIAN?!
Kids: Do you live in a tepee?
Kids: Cowboys chase them.
Kids: How come your so dark?
Me: I went to the beach a lot in Florida.
Kids: My grandma lives in Florida.
Kids: DISNEY WORLD!
Kids: Do black people live in Florida?
Me: No, AFRICAN AMERICANS live in Florida.
Kids: What's African American?
Kids: BLACK people
Kids: Yeah LIKE her
Kids: NO SHE'S FROM INDIA!
Kids: Yeah she's INDIAN!
Me: HEY LETS GO OUTSIDE AND RUN AROUND THE TRACK TIL RECESS!

Now I vividly recollect why I chose secondary education. Huge shout outs to elementary teachers, I would go INSANE!

Once recess and their ADD had ceased, I was able to teach them the correct principles comprising the MLKJ holiday. They learned words like African American, integrate, segregate, Rosa Parks, and "I Have A Dream". I was incredibly satisfied by my teaching skills and was finishing the last question on the worksheet. How would you feel if you lived before the time of integration?

Kids: Bad
Kids: Sad
Kids: Mad
Kid: GREAT! I WOULD LOVE IT! I WOULD BE SO RICH!
Me: What?
Kid: I would have all the money and jobs
Kids: What if you were black?
Kids: African American
Kids: Oh yeah
Kid: Sad cause I would have to use the small broken drinking fountain, but I would get a machine gun and start..
Me: STOP! Okay next question!
Kids: Do you have a boyfriend?
Me: Yes.

Apparently I'm insecure around 2nd graders enough to fabricate this fairytale in my head but not really cause I have many friends who are boys- justified. Though a simple no, would have finited the topic but led to this conversation, away from machine guns.

Kids: Who is it?
Me: A stockbroker
Kids: What's that?
Kids: What's his name?
Kids: Is he Indian too?
Me: No, actually he's African American like MLKJ
Kids: He's BLACK LIKE YOU!
Kids: Where does he live?
Kids: Are you going to get married?
Kids: What's his name?
Kids: Do we know him?
Kids: If you have kids will they be black or Indian?
Me: HEY LETS GO OUTSIDE AND WAIT FOR THE BUS!!!

"YOU'RE A MEAN GIRL...

YOU'RE A B*TCH!"

OMG we love you! You look so fetch! Call me! Let's totally hang out! YAY!

OMG we hate you! You look so gay! Please don't call! Let's not hang out! EWE!

HAHA! I LOVE our before (known) and after (unknown) facial snapshots! When I discovered this revelation on my camera it was ascertained that in fact, we are mean girls!

Together, my bff and I have mulled over this charge for days...HAVE WE BECOME MEANER? or worse yet cynical? Secretly we know we are mean but it has become apparent we can no longer tolerate people, places, things, or ideas that we once loved.

It was further confirmed today via text by someone who loves me... you're not being very nice and definitely not the cool fun Bre! Baffled because I wasn't even doing it on purpose, I thought my previous responses to him were completely nice/normal!

The culprit? Probably our fascination and word for word knowledge of the movie Mean Girls. Our natural witty sarcastic banter and our incredibly Miss Independent status. You can also throw in a few playa haters in the mix.

The evidence? We found ourselves doing and blurting the following:
-why is he/she still our friend?
-he/she is an idiot in that marriage!
-good thing I don't have to get married to learn that!
-so annoying I'm going to jump out of the car
-bailing on a "date" to find "hot chocolate"
-pretending to fall asleep/be sick/loose phone to avoid texting/talking response
-uncontrollable facial reactions

The list could go on and on but those are the most current, and within the last week, and the ones that I actually remember.

The solution? Our goal is to actually be nicer. Dezi is off to a good start. Whereas she is being totally nice letting Page guys go out with her. As I take baby steps and am going to burn Dezi the Katy Perry cd I ripped off from my sister.

AND I WANT MY PINK SHIRT BACK!

Girls I want my sh*t back! You know who you are! I'm so cool, everyone steals from me.

No, I'm not mean, promise.