Shit! You Should Just Stay Home...

**The above title was given to me by a friend while having dinner. And he doesn't even know I have a blog!**

Recently, I've had the opportunity to travel via airplane twice in the past two weeks. What's that you say? Lucky me? Well, while I would tend to agree with you overall, I seem to have somewhere gotten stuck under the dark cloud of travel. Here's a short synopsis of my trips:

1. I was stuck at the airport in Dallas for some 8.5 hours due to storms and possible tornadoes. When I finally did get my ass on a plane, I missed my connection in Atlanta, the black hole of airport cities. I made it to Asslanta about 1am, and while the airline graciously gave me a discounted hotel room voucher, the luggage jockeys at the airport lost my bag. Finally, at 2:30am, they located my bag (it had apparently been stuck in the chute, and I got to spend a whopping 4 hours at the hotel, sleeping for 3 and showering and such for one, only to have to return to the airport to catch the first available flight to my destination. On the way back, I got delayed again...in Asslanta. That airport sucks huge, hairy balls! Plus, they weren't very friendly. Now this wouldn't have been so bad if I hadn't been on my way for a fucking job interview. So I basically looked like hammered shit for the all -day job interview at some fancy school in Maryland of which I didn't end up getting the job anyway.

2. On my second trip out east, my connection was in Memphis. Memphis, unlike Asslanta, is a great airport full of friendly and helpful souls. My only mistake there was deciding that I needed some coffee at the Starbitches for the first time in over a year. So I'm waiting in line, and there is a couple in front of me arguing. They appear to be Latin, as the expletives were in both English and Spanish. As we reach the waiting area to collect our beverages, the crazy Latin bitch takes her scalding hot coffee and throws it at her boyfriend/husband/lover, whatever. Turns out he's quite agile, and jumps quickly to avoid most of the hot liquid...so the rest hits me on the right side of my goddamn face! Evidently, I must have called out and jumped back, causing me to lose my balance and fall on my ass. As I'm sitting there thinking I've most likely been disfigured by some crazy bitch, the airport people bring the first aid kit and put me in a chair. As it turned out, I had streaked, angry red scald marks across my left cheek and lip. Thankfully, none of it got to my eye. Yep, it was starting to blister and hurt like a sonofabitch! While all of this was happening, myself and about 6 others were being paged at the gate. It was quite a ruckus, and so I was wheeled to the gate (oh, did I forget to mention they put me in a ridiculous wheelchair??), I arrived to find out that the flight I was on was severely oversold, and so they were putting me and a half dozen others on a flight that left later. Fabulous. So when I arrived at my destination, the rental car counter was already closed, so I had no way to get my rental car. Yes, stuck at the airport again. On my return trip, I got another weather delay. I made it home almost exactly 12 hours after arriving at the departure airport. Another fantastic trip, ladies and gentlemen.

So there you have it. And in case you're wondering, I'm looking like some reject from Extreme Makeover with my face all peeling and disgusting looking, particularly the right side of my upper lip. So now, I'm more hideous than ever! Want a lil kiss, y'all?

**Father Liam will most definitely be seeing me this week, but I'm tempted to wait until my lip heals and is less noticeable. I don't want him to think he needs to heal any lepers.

***Some children today asked me if I had a staph infection on my lip. WTF? EWWWW!! I'm a monster!!

Sassy Blondie: Crime Stopper (almost!)

HOLY SHIT, you guys!! I just witnessed a crime! I was coming back from running a simple errand (okay, so it wasn't simple...I went to get bent over at the gas pump), and I turned onto the street that eventually leads to my townhouse "village" (Fucking HOA bastards! I wonder how much that stone and metal sign cost me!), and I spilled my diet Coke. So, I pulled off said street into a bank parking lot to get the lid back on my Route 44 drink (I heart Sonic). That's when I saw it! At the drive up ATM, I saw a Ford Escape parked there, it's owner getting cash. Then as I watched, the perp strolled from behind the hedges and came around to the driver, pulling a huge fucking knife! Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!! I didn't know what else to do but start honking my horn and dialing 911 on the Crackberry! I just laid on the horn, and much to my amazement, I started coasting my Nissan in that general direction! While all of this was happening, I was thinking to myself, "Sassy, you know you'll run that motherfucker down if he starts heading your way, so shut your mouth and hit the gas!" As I hollered into the phone to the police (I was still leaning heavily on the horn), I saw the shitbag criminal run off, and the young guy in the SUV jumped out and started running towards me. I assured him through my cracked window that I had called the police and they were on their way. Then he just sort of crumpled. Being a bit too soft-hearted maybe (or stupid...it's a toss up!) I quickly threw the car in park and got out to go over to our victim. He looked to be in his early 20s, skinny, harmless enough that I could take him in hand-to hand, so I just started talking.

Me: Are you alright??! He didn't cut you did he?

Him: No, uh...I don't think...uh no.

Me: I have water in my car, would you like me to get it for you?

Him: Fuck! That scared me shitless! Thank God you came by!

Me: I can't believe this! It's 10:30am...broad daylight! Are you sure you're okay? What's your name?

Him: Jeff. Did you see that knife??!

Me: Yes, Jeff, I did! I'm Sassy. You're so lucky though! Why don't you let me go get you that water? You gonna be okay for a minute, sweet pea? (patting his shoulder)

Him: Uh...yeah...okay, thanks. I need to call my parents.

So as I went to the car to grab a water bottle, the cops showed up. One was African-American, the other Hispanic (you'll see why this is relevant as you read on). As I was bringing the water over, I heard the young guy say, "That lady saw the whole thing! She scared him off honking her horn and driving at us!" At this point, I start to think that maybe I should have just called the cops and then took off! I mean, I don't have the best track record with the city's finest.

Cop: Ma'am, did you see what happened?

Me: (pausing to decide if I should admit it or not) Um, yes sir, I did.

Cop: Can you start from the beginning?

Me: Told him the story.

Cop: Can you describe the man you said had a knife?

Me: I think so, but you're not going to like it.

Cop: I would just like a description if you can remember, ma'am.

Me: He was either a lighter-skinned African American or Latino man (I was really hating giving my statement, and I wanted to be as politically correct as I knew how), about 6 feet tall, wearing a red shirt, white hoody with some writing on it that looked silver, and blue jeans. He had on red basketball shoes. (What the hell? How did I remember all of that???) I have no idea how old he might have been.

Cop: Could you see his face?

Me: No sir, he had the hoody on, so I didn't even see if he had hair.

Cop: Any tattoos, earrings, a watch?

Me: Not that I recall. Sorry. I know that sounds like just about anyone. How much did he make off with?

Cop: The kid said he took out $200, the guy took that, but then ran when you started driving up and honking.

Me: Well, at least no one got hurt. I can't believe he was out robbing in broad daylight! What the hell? And surely he realizes there are cameras at ATMs??

Cop: Yes, ma'am. We have seen quite a few of these lately, and based on the ones we catch and the victims who get the same thing while pumping gas, we believe a lot of it has to do with people desperate for gas money.

Me: Excuse me? Are you serious? That is unbelievable! What the fu--uh hell??

Cop: I know, Ms. Blondie. We've apprehended teenagers, old men, women, you name it.

Then he took my information and said I could go. I checked on the kid again, he thanked me for the water and my savvy crime-busting skills (not really...just thanked me for helping), I gave him a quick hug and pat, and I got in the car and made my way home. As I walked into my money pit, I began to feel a little bit more proud of myself. I mean, I did act when I saw a crime happening, when most people these days don't even think twice about ignoring it. I hope that poor kid is okay. I thought he was going to pass out, and he had the shakes and was crying a little too. Poor baby!

So there it is! My crime-fighting skills at work! Whew! That was pretty scary though. I hope they find that slapdick criminal, but I don't have much faith in that. I mean, how many resources are they going to use to find $200 for that kid? I fucking hate criminals...

*I know I promised a post about my misspent youth, but this JUST HAPPENED! Watch yourselves at the ATMs and the gas pump! Be safe my babies!

I'm A Failure (At Least Right Now)

So as I'm sure you have surmised by now (and if not for the fact that I've said as much already!!), I've been extremely busy in Mayberry. Because I am currently the only AP, I'm doing the job of 2 people on a campus with 800 kids. Then, the Alliance (which is my new moniker for upper admin) went and moved our lady counselor to another school that is "in crisis", leaving us even more so short-handed. So I'm now splitting counselor duties (did I mention that I'm nowhere near being qualified as a school counselor?) with Big C. And I'm failing at all three jobs miserably. There just isn't enough time in the day to deal with all of my work, and it's getting to me. Not because I now have 3 months worth of important paperwork backed up. Not because I'm over scheduled with meetings and other campus duties. Not because I've fallen behind in my teacher appraisals, which should have been completed in February. Not even because I can't seem to do anything that pleases my teachers. What's really getting to me is that I'm failing my kids. (And by "my kids", I'm referring to the students on campus since everyone knows I'm a childless spinster.)

I'm behind in discipline. I've been unable to meet with my at-risk student mentees regularly. Matter of fact, I saw one for the first time in 2 months today, only to notice that he's literally walking out of his shoes because the family is so poor, he doesn't have any others. This sent me over the edge. So I left the building and cried all the way to Wal-mart to buy the poor boy some decent shoes. Then I cried all the way back. Several students came in today asking why I didn't want to see them. The lump in my throat almost choked me. I tried as best I could to explain that it wasn't that I didn't WANT to see them, but that I had not had sufficient time. Who tells a bunch of little kids that they don't have the time to care? I hate not being on top of the things that matter most.

As we approach Spring Break, I have another week with a ridiculous schedule. And I'm even going to work over Spring Break to catch up on the mountains of paperwork that must be entered into the computer. My only hope is that I can somehow do something right this week that will make a positive difference to someone on campus.

No, I'm really not whining. I'm a realist and understand that this is just temporary until the new guy comes on board with us in April. I just don't like feeling like such a failure, when only I know how fucking hard I've been working.

*Sorry that Debbie Downer got a hold of my blog post. I hope everyone is well, and I'll stop in and read y'all when I can!

**I promise a post detailing ridiculous stories from my misspent youth very soon.