The Origin of the F-Word

We're having some rather dubious weather here right now, and so some co-workers and I found ourselves with some excess down time today because even if we had to leave the building, no one wanted to go out in the icy mess. So like the intellectuals we obviously are, we sat around a table with hot tea and discussed terribly interesting things...like how swear words became swear words. Now I don't know about you, but I have often wondered this. Who decided that you can't say "shit" in civilized company without being reprimanded? Why are euphemisms for the male and female anatomy considered uncouth? And why is the most used and taboo word, "fuck," considered so taboo? So we did what any educated group would do: we consulted the internet. And lo and behold, we found something that explained all anyone might want to know about the origin of the f-word. Here's the info:

Probably the most used and common swear word is the F-Word (FUCK). Many others as the M-Word (MOTHERFUCKER) derive or are complemented by the F-Word, and most of the others (like Ass Hole) and (cunt) have an actual meaning but have become swear words.

So, the only interesting one to research is the F-Word. Here some theories about its origins:

1. The American Heritage Dictionary says its first known occurrence in English literature was in the satirical poem "Flen, Flyss" (c.1500), where it was not only disguised as a Latin word but encrypted "gxddbov" which has been deciphered as fuccant, pseudo-Latin for "they fuck."

2. When doctors wrote a diagnostic notation on the documests of soldiers in the British Imperial Army reporting sick and found to have Sexual Transmitted Diseases., the abbreviation F.U.C.K. was stamped on his documents. It was short for "Found Under Carnal Knowledge."

3. In the 15th Century, when a married couple needed permission from the king to procreate. Hence, "Fornication Under Consent of the King" (F.U.C.K.).

4. May be an acronym of a law term used in the 1500s that referred to rape as "Forced Unnatural Carnal Knowledge" (F.U.C.K.).

5. Referring to the charge for prostitution in England : "For Unlawful Carnal Knowledge (F.U.C.K.)."

Interesting, isn't it?

So the next time you drop an F-bomb, you're a little bit smarter for it. And if anyone gives you any shit, tell 'em to go fuck themselves.

Keeping It Real...

I think I've mentioned that I moved to the backwoods (close to Mayberry) this past summer. It's a quaint place that actually does boast the trifecta of restaurants: Applebee's, Chili's, Olive Garden. Date night in a small town! Woo hoo! But seriously, I can handle small towns for the most part. What I really dislike is the fact that I run into students when I need to do shopping of any kind. Now why should this bother me? Well, I often like to just roll out of bed and head out, often in what I wore as pajamas. However, I have found that in such a small area, the probability of me encountering someone that I work with , work for, teach, taught, supervise, etc has grown exponentially. I mean, I can't really hide my beer and condoms under my frozen peas, can I? Case in point: I was at the Walmart last weekend, just minding my own business, when I felt someone following me. Paranoid much, you ask? No. I stopped and took a left into the toilet paper aisle and then caught 3 students (think nutty buddies) from the campus where I used to be the assistant principal indeed following me. I could hear them whispering and giggling as I grabbed my 9-pack double roll Quilted Northern. As if one's teachers and/or principals do not have a need for toilet paper? When I smiled and said hello, the boys looked wary, as if they weren't quite sure if I'd sprout another head. I decided that I should just keep going, and I thought nothing of it until I got home and caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. My hair was in a scrunchie on top of my head, reminiscent of those classic, kid-friendly Fraggles (the curse of curly hair!). I was devoid of makeup except for the faint smudges from yesterday's mascara. I was nattily attired in a red sweatshirt, my SpongeBob fleece pajama pants, and black Chuck's converse trainers. Frankly, I'm not sure they really recognized me at all and probably thought they were following a bag lady. Either way, I felt a slight flush of embarrassment. This is when I miss living in a real city. No one cares if you go to the market in your pajamas. No one cares if you have make up on, or if you reek of last night's boozapalooza. And the greater square mileage all but guarantees you won't run into the people you work with. But in a small town, people take note of that shit. I actually had a colleague mention to me that they had heard I was wandering Walmart in my pajamas. WTF?? Since when is that news? I mean, it wasn't like I was running around braless or something! Of course, it was a Sunday, and seeing as how I'm not a regular churchgoer, perhaps the shock that I had slept in and forsaken the baby Jesus did not go unnoticed...nor unjudged (yes, I'm making up terms now). So now I'm forced to at least put on some lipgloss, wash my face, and wear street clothing rather than pajamas if I want to dart out to the market. Often I put on a little mascara and tinted moisturizer as well. It's ludicrous, but I've bent to the will of the Mayberry area small minds. Perhaps in a few short weeks, I'll be able to thumb my nose at these rednecks as I prepare for a new employment adventure. One can only hope...and light candles and say 14 Hail Marys and 8 Our Fathers every day until it's a lock. Who knows? One thing I know for sure is that nowhere in the Holy Bible does it say that you cannot wear pajamas or no make up when you shop at Walmart. He who has no sin cast the first stone! And I never shop on Sunday. Never.

**Got an important trip coming up, so start praying bitches!! Momma needs a brand new job!

Welcome 2009...You Bitch!

Happy New Year everyone!! I trust you are all recovered from the celebration? Although I normally look for any reason to imbibe large quantities of champagne, I was very moderate this year. Mostly because I didn't want to encourage my pants to text people without permission nor did I want to throw up on Roach Clip. Yes, I spent the evening at a lame ass party at a hotel downtown with Roach Clip. Now, don't get me wrong, I like parties for the most part. There's plenty of people to dazzle with my engaging conversational style and rapier-sharp wit (much less indulge my own delusions, eh?). Now I know what you are thinking: Why is she bitching about actually having a date and plans on New Year's Eve? So okay, I'm not really bitching per se. I just have never had much patience with the eternally pretentious uptown crowd. I'm not really "into" the "in crowd". I'm just not. Perhaps it was all the time I spent in Lost Angeles. Maybe I'm just getting old. Who knows? Very little about such things engages my cerebral cortex. I did enjoy myself the first part of the evening, but once the ball drops, people get entirely too annoying for me. I think I have mentioned my distaste for strangers touching me. Why is it that people think it's okay to try to kiss on complete strangers after midnight? I'm not any kind of big germaphobe, but ewww! Keep your spittle to yourself, bitches! Poor Roach Clip was not the pillar of restraint in the alcohol department, which also annoyed me since I had to deal with his drunk ass until 2am. I finally had had enough and stuck his ass in a cab and sent him home. At least I hope he made it home. I haven't heard from him as yet. Now before you start judging me, I'll have you know that we are not serious. At least I'm not serious about him. We're really just friends, but he insists on trying to segue most every outing into some kind of situation where I might consent to have sex with him. It's not that he's a bad guy. It's not that I don't find him attractive. But I don't wish to pursue anything too serious with him, and I have my suspicions that one night of doing the deed would change him into a Stage One Clinger. No, not because I am so spectacular in the sack (hey, I've not had any complaints, so shut the hell up!). Mostly because he's that kind of guy. Plus, he's hit 40 and doesn't want to be alone. He's said as much in our many conversations, so I can say this with conviction. And quite frankly, I'm not going to be the one some lonely sad sack "settled" for, nor will I settle. But hey, I got semi-molested at a New Year's party, so that's more action than I've seen in..well, a while. Gotta find that silver lining, right?

So, as you know, I always have hopes for each new year. I don't really like the word "resolution", so I have hopes. I won't bore you any longer by posting them all, but I will say this:

I hope you all have a peaceful and prosperous 2009. I hope that you find what you are looking for, meet all your expectations, do what you most desire, or whatever. I'm working on a few hopes myself for this year, and I will build on my hopes from 2008. Thank you all for stopping in once and awhile and making me laugh. I really love to laugh...

XOXO

A Little Bit of This, A Little Bit of That

Whew! Have I been busy or what? Damn! You guys doing okay? Well, I've shamefully fallen behind on my blogging, both reading and writing. But in my defense, the last 6 weeks before school lets out for the Winter Break are brutal. So here's a quick catch up:

1. My trip to the Rockies: Once again, Denver never disappoints. I spent a week with my BFF and her family enjoying the crisp, clean Colorado air and even some snow! Woo hoo! I fucking love snow! We did our usual night before Thanksgiving club appearance, but this time my pants were much better behaved than last time. I didn't get any messages from my sister or friends saying that my pants dialed them or texted them. I guess the new phone helped with that. The Crackberry was terribly prolific without encouragement, but my Blackjack is very well behaved.

Of course, I did meet many drunken strangers, one of which who insisted on buying us girls Patron shots everytime we saw him at the bar. Tequila is so foul-tasting that I wonder how the shit ever sells in shot form. When people tell me that there is a difference between Patron and Cuervo, I wonder what the hell they are really talking about. I mean, straight tequila tastes like shit. Shit is always shit, regardless of what kind of label you stick on it. No good drunken stories this time...damn, I must really be getting old!

2. Job-hunting yet again: I've been applying for several jobs all over the country, both through my recruiter and a new agency. Surely someone will think I'm worth hiring out of this one-horse town. I am actually going to Memphis for an initial interview with a school on Friday. Not sure if I really want it, but hey, if they want to fly me out there, I'm game. I also applied for a job at the Mayberry High School. It's more money and good experience. I will get the courtesy interview, but I have a snowball's chance in hell of getting this job. I mean, if they actually did hire me, Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dumbass might actually have to admit that I'm superior to them in every way. Like that's really going to happen in a assbackwards place like Mayberry...

3. Insomnia: I had a streak of sleepless nights going a few weeks ago that lasted a personal best 6 days with no sleep. I finally got my Lunesta scrip and slept 36 hours straight. The pups sure made me pay for that. Insomnia sucks ass...as does the stress that causes it. As are the people who cause the stress that cause me to become a zombie from my insomnia. Fuckers!

4. Christmas: I LOVE Christmas! Seriously, it's my most favorite time of the year. I love to see all the decorations and Christmas cards and giftwrap. It makes me feel all warm and fuzzy and lovey dovey. Plus, I shop year round for gifts, so I never have to worry about dealing with the idiot last minute shoppers who mow each other down on Black Friday. I can't believe people trampled some poor lady at a store in NY and then actually got pissed that the store managers and employees made them wait so that they could allow the proper officials to remove the DEAD BODY blocking their entry. WTF?? Listen, if you bitches are so desperate for a good deal on a flat screen or Xbox 360 that you would kill someone else without any regard, you got bigger problems than an old tv. God sees that shit, you know...and karma is a bitch too.

5. Dating: I'm "casually" seeing Roach Clip, but I'm not sure it's going anywhere. I mean, he just doesn't understand my addictions to Facebook, my car concerts, or my desperation to get the hell out of Texas. AND he doesn't watch my tv shows. That's a problem, especially since Lost is coming back soon. Plus, I don't think he has much respect for my love of shoes and handbags.

6. Interesting story: I am getting over a pretty bad cold. Actually, I'm almost completely well. However, the Control Freak on my staff was complaining that I should wear one of those masks while at work so that I didn't "expose everyone to my germs." Now what I really wanted to say was that since I was "exposed" to her dumbass shit everyday, it was almost even. What I did say was, "Well CF, how about I get you a mask if you are that worried about it?" She agreed that would be very considerate of me. The next day I brought in an old Monica Lewinsky halloween mask and presented it to her. I wonder if she got the message that I think she sucks?

7. I got this heartwarming Christmas story via email from the Bubbly Brunette today. May you enjoy it as much as I did:

When four of Santa's elves got sick, the trainee elves did not produce toys as fast as the regular ones, and Santa began to feel the Pre-Christmas pressure.Then Mrs Claus told Santa her Mother was coming to visit, which stressed Santa even more.When he went to harness the reindeer, he found that three of them were about to give birth and two others had jumped the fence and were out, Heaven knows where.Then when he began to load the sleigh, one of the floorboards cracked, the toy bag fell to the ground and all the toys were scattered.Frustrated, Santa went in the house for a cup of apple cider and a shot of rum. When he went to the cupboard, he discovered the elves had drank all the cider and hidden the liquor. In his frustration, he accidentally dropped the cider jug, and it broke into hundreds of little glass pieces all over the kitchen floor. He went to get the broom and found the mice had eaten all the straw off the end of the broom.Just then the doorbell rang, and irritated Santa marched to the door, yanked it open, and there stood a little angel with a great big Christmas tree. The angel said very cheerfully, 'Merry Christmas, Santa. Isn't this a lovely day? I have a beautiful tree for you. Where would you like me to stick it?'

And so began the tradition of the little angel on top of the Christmas tree.

That's all I got...I'll catch up on the more interesting ramblings soon.

A Quick List...

I've been absent awhile, but I've returned with a quick list...my Shit List. Since taking this new position, it seems to have lengthened a bit dramatically. Coincidence? I doubt it. I'm a bit irritated right now, so I will apologize in advance for the following. Having said that, here's my current Shit List:

10. Mighty Dyckerson-What else is there to say? Isn't he on everyone's shit list? (Just kidding, Dyckie...you know I love you.)

9. Lying Bitches-What do you get for moving to a small town and away from civilization? That's right! Gossipy, lying bitches who make up what they don't know. Listen you skags, if I WAS having an affair with the married colleague you all have the hots for, I might be in a better mood. But I guess I should be flattered that you bitches even think something's going on. Perhaps you old bags don't remember ever having male friends. The next time you make some shit up, I'll have your fucking jobs. I didn't ask for you bitches to work with, I got stuck with your sorry asses. Stupid, redneck whores!

8. Birthdays- OK, so just MY birthday. You know how I feel about my birthday.

7. Slow Ass Drivers-Listen, can't you fuckers read the speed limit signs? I mean, I can't TAKE it anymore! Get with the program or get the hell out of my way!

6. Jesus Freaks-Look, I'm Catholic. I believe in the Holy Trinity and all that. However, I really wish you bible thumpers would give it a rest. As far as I know, Jesus does love me. I don't need you all quoting scripture and telling me how to vote, much less how to live my life. I'm smarter than I look, and not joining your church isn't going to be the reason I go to hell. There are so many more reasons than that...

5. Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum-Also known as high school assistant principals in Mayberry. These guys make doing my job unending torture. Listen up, dipshits: if you need to go back to school to learn what is legal and what is not in terms of disciplinary action in schools, please do. The minorities in our district could use the relief of not dealing with your stupid redneck asses for awhile. And stop calling me "sweetie" and "darling". I'm done with the condescending bullshit. Oh, and fuck you too. I'm smarter than the two of you numnuts put together.

4. Network News-My good tv interrupted or completely preempted for long-winded gasbag pundits telling us all what we can read and see for ourselves. And who the hell cares if election coverage went all "high tech"? It still fucked up my Tivo schedule. And by the way, if you're going to look for ways to smear some no name from Alaska, at least get your fucking facts straight. How is that any different than these idiots sending out mass emails about the coming of the Antichrist straight out of Illinois? Do you really expect us to believe that you just got "duped" by some guy sending you information from his mother's basement? Are allegations not vetted anymore at the networks? This is why your audience share declines year to year. Your viewers have already gone "high tech" and get their news online. Oh, and the website you need is: www.snopes.com . Check it out.

3. Banks and Insurance Companies-They have been robbing us blind with their fees since forever, and now they've caused an economic collapse. And  they want us to pay up some more because they gave credit to anyone with a pulse at a variable rate and are surprised that people can't pay them back? Shame on you. Just shame on you.  In one week my bank (Wamu) and my insurance company (AIG) bit the dust. What the hell? If Nissan goes under, it'll be a trifecta!

2. Prop 8 in CA and those other states too-Listen, I don't care what other people do in their own lives as long as it doesn't mess with mine. Here's a proposition for you: how about worrying about your own damn marriage instead of worrying about someone else's? I'm not gay, but I don't give a shit who is or whether or not they want to get married. What's next? An amendment to stone single people in their late 30s? I'm just glad to know SOMEONE is still interested in getting married. Other than the Prohibition Act (which was subsequently repealed), what other amendment in history (granted these are state constitutions being amended) was passed to take away rights? Frankly, the inevitable has just been avoided for a few more years. 

1. Abusers-If I have to read one more story about some fucker abusing their kid, their spouse, or an animal, my head might explode. I will never understand how anyone we call human can be so inhumane. People are more worried about "going green" (don't get me started on the tree huggers either) than punishing mean. I'm fast becoming a proponent of vigilante justice. If you see a story about some asshole getting the shit beat out of him in a dark alley, it very well could've been me who whipped his ass with a sock full of quarters. Who needs a gun?

Whew! I guess that counts more as a rant than a rambling. On a more positive note, gas prices are continuing to go down, I got a great price for my airline ticket to Denver, and I've had a few more quality dates with Roach Clip. No real love connection yet, but damn is that man a lot of fun!

*Insomnia robs me of my much needed beauty sleep...and also makes me cranky and particularly foul-mouthed. Perhaps I'll write something much more full of sunshine in a few days once I fill my Lunesta scrip.

Checking In...

Whew! I've been so busy! How are y'all doing? I don't have time to write until the weekend, but if you stop in, please tell me what you've been up to! Seriously, I need to live vicariously through someone!  Be a friend. 

When It Rains, I Certainly Hope It Pours

Hello! How are y'all? Doing okay? Good. I have a couple of things to ramble about today. 

First, it's nearing that time again, and I'm heading to the Rockies for Turkey Day break! Woo hoo! Another Jewish Thanksgiving and hopefully no random pants texting. Denver, brace yourself! Sassy's coming back to town! Are you ready? I'm on countdown...

Second, I had a date today with a guy I knew in high school. Nothing too serious really, just two people who haven't seen or spoken to each other in 20 years having a nice lunch and a few martinis. This guy, we'll call him Roach Clip (mostly because he was a huge stoner back in high school), sat behind me for a whole semester of health class. Actually, I should say he slept behind me. Every day he would come in and be all, "Dude, I smoked most of a bowl this morning and ate like 8 Poptarts this morning. Wanna meet me after 5th period and finish her off with me, Sass?" Shades of Jeff Spiccoli without the surfer motif. Yes, a class act. However, in my limited knowledge of the drug culture and the naivete of being 16 years old, Roach Clip seemed extremely funny and somewhat charming as well. Anywho, the health teacher was also the assistant girls' basketball coach (in other words, one of my coaches), and she was constantly bitching at Roach Clip for sleeping in class. So he and I struck a deal that I would wake him up by kicking the leg of his desk if she was giving our little area of the room the stink eye. One day I was absent, and when I returned the next day Roach Clip had his panties in a twist about how I could not be absent again because Coach Clit (his moniker, not mine) kept on his ass all class. He needed me, he said. I was his buffer. A bit peeved at referring to me as a buffer, I told him to shut the fuck up and stay awake in class. The next day, he was actually in class before I was. Class almost always started late due to it being 1st period and early basketball practice keeping Coach Clit and the rest of the team (including me) running a bit late each day. But anyway, I walk in and see him sitting there all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed (well, I can't really speak to the tail thing), looking so alert that I wondered if his dealer had been locked up and therefore he had not smoked out prior to coming to school that day. As I approached my seat, I noticed a strange look in his eyes. They seemed a bit...well, off. As I set my books down, took my seat, and then turned around, I almost wet my pants from laughing. Roach Clip, an accomplished artiste it seems, had painted exact replicas of his real gaze ON HIS EYELIDS!! Holy shit, I could not stop laughing! When he opened his eyes to see what all the cackling was about, I tried valiantly to ask him, in between gasps, how the fuck he did that! Roach Clip's answer: "Sass, I was smoking some really good shit last night and had a fucking light bulb show up! If Coach Clit is gonna stay on my ass all the time about sleeping, I need a disguise, man. So I took out a picture of myself and totally painted my eyes on one at a time. Pretty bitchin', eh?" More hysterical laughter followed from me until I had to excuse myself to the ladies to get some tissue to try to save what was left of my mascara. I'm not kidding, guys. It looked completely real from a distance. I was fucking amazed! So anyway, I brought up that old story at our lunch because ole Roach Clip has gone legit. He's actually quite an accomplished graphic artist with a rather normal existence. Who knew?? I mean, he was a year older than me, and I hadn't seen him since he graduated. Plus, he's a hell of a lot cuter..rowrh!  So yes, I had lunch and martinis with Roach Clip, and dammit if I didn't enjoy the whole thing! I guess Facebook is good for one thing, eh? We ended the afternoon with hugs, kisses, and promises to get together again real soon, but I did say that I might have to frisk him for drugs the next time. I mean, I can't get caught up in a drug raid if we end up at his place.

Lastly, I had another date last week that was also a winner. The man is quite handsome, which of course makes me a bit on edge about trusting him. You all should know my stance on beautiful men by now. But he's so nice....I hope he doesn't turn out to be a complete slapdick. I could use a few nights here and there with a beautiful man. And I'm fairly certain he's never done any drugs.  Did I mention that he's not such a bad kisser either? This is a good sign...stupid Father Glen. What does he know?

Dare I say that things might be looking up for ole Sassy? It's been a long, dry summer, but I think I smell rain....

Bless Me Father, For I Have Sinned...I Don't Like You

I went to confession yesterday for the first time in a few months. I forced myself to go in and talk to Father Liam's successor, Father Glen. At first, I thought I might be uncomfortable, but then I just decided that Father Liam thought I was a little off too, so what do I give a fuck with that new guy thinks? 

Here's how it went:

Me: Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It's been awhile since my last confession. Well, since Father Liam abandoned me, and I got stuck with you. 

FG: What is it you would like to confess...since you are stuck with me? (Nope, there was no chuckle with this to convey that he might have a sense of humor!)

Me: Well, I've been having impure thoughts....like constantly. 

FG: Have you prayed about it?

Me: God yes! I pray every night that my impure thoughts will come true! (Insert laugh here)

FG: (Cleared throat in a disapproving manner) I see.  What do you feel is impure? 

Me: Well, I work with mostly women so I don't have impure thoughts about them although I do have some evil ones, but there are a couple of guys that tend to make it into my thoughts, impure as they are.  One is married but the other is a new guy and divorced. I admit to being flirty with them and getting a reciprocal response. Is this wrong? I mean, it's not like I'm touching them inappropriately or speaking in any kind of sexual innuendo, right? But I certainly have had some steamy daydreams involving them. Plus, one isn't even married, so it's okay to flirt with him, right? And aren't they just as culpable since they are flirty back at me? I mean, it isn't like I'm the only one at fault here, right? (Jeez Sassy, guilty much? )

FG: So you are having thoughts of a sexual nature about two men you work with.  Are you acting on these thoughts?

Me: (Long pause wondering if he means acting alone or with them) NO! What kind of gal do you think I am! I'm not a home wrecker or a whore! Jeez! Are you supposed to call me names?! And do you really think I'd be here confessing if I was getting it on with one or both of these men? (Ok..unfair and trashy sounding, but he pissed me off!) I came here seeking guidance and penance. Isn't that why I should come to you?

FG: Sassy, I am not saying these things to be unkind. And I was not calling you any foul name. Is this all you have to confess? (I think he was trying to rush me! WTF?)

Me: Isn't that enough? You want more? Okay, I lied to my coworker and told her that I would be sad that she would be leaving to stay at home with her grandbaby when I really wanted to jump up and down and do cartwheels.  She's a b--witch, and I'm marking off days on my calendar until that baby is born so that I can be rid of her. Then, I was rude to an old lady at the grocery store because she took up the whole aisle, and I was in a hurry. She was in one of those automated carts and wasn't in much of a hurry. Although I did instantly feel bad that I was rude when I walked around here and so came back and got some tomato soup off the higher shelves for her since she couldn't reach it. I also cussed at a salesgirl for overcharging me on an item and then blaming the register. I mean come on, learn how to find mistakes yourself and stop relying solely on the machine. She actually ARGUED with me until I came back with the sign from where I got the item in the store. Then she got pissy with me because she was wrong. Did I get an apology? No. Customer service is dead!

FG: (After a big sigh) Okay, your penance is 3 Hail Marys and 1 Our Father. Go forth and sin no more. May God bless and keep you.

Me: Really? You're using the "go forth" line?  Okay, but--

FG: Make that 2 Our Fathers.

Me: Dammit! Oh! Ok.

Now this was lame, people! What kind of priest is he? I demand a better one! They must bring Father Liam back!! They MUST! Father Glen? Seriously? He doesn't even have a good accent or look fatherly at all! The man is a newbie! I felt more like I was in the principal's office. That confession did me no good! I did my Hail Marys and Our Fathers, yet I'm still having some racy, inappropriate thoughts about those two gentlemen. I got no advice, no thought-provoking anecdote..nothing. Shit! Now I'm going to have to start shopping for a new priest. I miss Father Liam...

*Yes, I'm going to seek absolution for cracking on the new guy. 

**Impure thoughts shouldn't be a sin until you act upon them, right? Right??  Can I get an Amen??

I Love a Chrome Dome

Hey! Don't be making that all nasty, you freaks! I've been having some trouble lately coming up with anything to write. I mean, I tend to write about things that happen to me, and unfortunately, not a whole lot happening here in Sassytown other than my fucked up job.  But when I was out at Happy Hour the other night, a bunch of us were talking about what attracts us to the opposite sex. It was all fun and games until I laid out my love of bald men. Yes, I said I love the chrome domes. I don't know why, but bald men are sexy to me. Not the poor sacks that have the ring of hair...the totally smooth-as-a-baby's-ass bald guys. I don't quite know where this fondness for the hair-challenged male came from. It's not a Daddy thing because the men in my family all have a head of hair..thinning in spots, but nowhere near bald. I mean, I tend to look at eyes first, so maybe it's because without all the action going on with the hair, the eyes stand out. Needless to say when I dropped this little nugget of truth, I heard crickets around the table. Finally, someone spoke up and said, "What? What the hell is that all about?"

That's when I started thinking. Yes, I was completely devoid of thought until that point in time...it was Happy Hour and there was alcohol after all. Not surprisingly (and mostly because the gals were getting shit-faced), my bald statement started a new line of discussion. Sure, we all want a sensitive (but not crybaby ass), honest, romantic guy who has a job and can step away from his mommy. But the conversation got more interesting when we started talking physicalities:

Friend #1- "I like a nice smile. I can't be with some guy with jacked up teeth." (And she's even British...that just doesn't seem right considering the teeth on sooo  many British guys)

Friend #2: "I'm quite fond of the ass on a man. There's nothing like a nice, tight ass! Woo!" (We all secretly wonder if she's not into woman ass as well though)

Friend #3- "No offense, Sassy, but I like my men hairy." (Yes, I can't believe I have a friend who likes the hairies...eww..just eww.)

Me: "Well, besides the baldness, I'm into the eyes and a man's hands. Nothing like a good set of hands all over you.  And if they can't make me laugh, my panties stay on!" (That's RIGHT! No laughy, no nookie!)

Friend #4: "I like a big dick. Period. I'm a simple gal." (She's the groper of our group...use your imagination there)

So what is it that leads us to focus on particular body parts? I mean, I know guys tend to talk quite a bit about big titties (the hyperfocus there always confuses me), but surely there's more to it than that? I need answers people, and I need them now!  

The Land of Misfits

Ok, so I know I told you all about the "promotion" I just got last month. More money is good. The actual position: not so great. First, I have a crappy staff that no one had the cajones to get rid of in prior years. When I say crappy, what I mean is fucking shitty. These morons would make you question how the hell any one of them could have gotten out of kindergarten much less a 4-yr plus degree program! There are a few bright spots in this vast wasteland, however. *Here's the rundown:

Pops: 65 year old guy who has done everything from coaching to being an interim superintendent for a podunk district.  He's one of the two-man team of certified teachers on my staff. The most capable of the group, but it seems obvious to me that he doesn't really like kids. Particularly the kinds of kids he'll be working with for 7 hrs a day. He's very polite, but he strikes me as the kind of guy who will "Yes, ma'am" me and then rip me to shreds behind my back. He has already tagged me as "too soft on the dredge that will darken our doors this year".  That dredge he's talking about? Kids. Granted, they are the more difficult kind, but I wouldn't ever characterize them as "dredge".  Fucker! I hate people who lack compassion because they have no real understanding of adolescents. I seriously want to kick him in the face every time I speak with him. Asswipe.

Pathetic Pickled Pete: The second of the stellar certificated staff. He's a burned out alcoholic with maybe one brain cell left. The man can't put a coherent sentence together. I'm not exaggerating for comic effect here either. He's famous in the district. He evidently finally kicked his alcohol and drug habit about 10 years ago. Unfortunately, that was far too late. He's not as anti-kid as Pops, but I think that's because he's very possible the only walking vegetable I have ever known. He reminds me of this guy from high school who used to huff paint and freon. He told me this bizarre tale about his mother's garden that was completely out there. He's 45 but looks 20 yrs older. Oh, and he lives in his mother's basement. No people, I couldn't make this shit up! He has to be told specifically what to do like a 4 yr old child. And then still, I don't think he gets it. I live with the desperate hope that he at least remembers some of what he learned before the drugs and booze. The man has a masters degree for the love of Mike! (Oh, and his name is not Pete..even I'm not so cruel as to out him on the internets!). He has an extensive "growth plan" with all kinds of things he has to do by a certain deadline, which he isn't even close to completing. But because this is education, I probably still won't be able to get rid of him at semester. It's fucking ridiculous! Public education, my friends, public education.

The Bossy Hypochondriac: This woman is a teacher's aide. The PC term is "Paraprofessional", but I'm not particularly PC. First, she does have some serious health issues. However, she invents 3 times as many more so that she can bore me senseless with her descriptions of it. That's time I'll never get back, people.  NEVER. To say she is bossy may be an understatement. In the week I've worked with her thus far, she's pissed off 18 different people who have called me infuriated. Did I mention these people range from the Director of Curriculum and Instruction (a bit like an asst. superintendent) to the district textbook coordinator? I've had 25 different conversations with her about her authority (or lack thereof) and professional behavior. She just fucking doesn't get it. I feel like stabbing myself repeatedly in the eye with a sharpened pencil every time I have any lengthy exchange with her. I'm certain to continue to piss her off because I can't imagine she'll make it through the year without me having to write her sorry ass up! She's also told me all about the "bad kids" that are coming and how she'll be laying down the law with them. Talk about someone who really has a distorted view of her own position! Holy Jesus! Pray for me, people! I don't know that I will make it 6 weeks before I kick her in the gut and beat her senseless with an Algebra 2 textbook. I've asked her very nicely on repeated occasions to stop saying, "But that's how we've always done it!" Stupid bitch...I want to shank her with a filed down toothbrush. I'll get to work on that shank the first day of school. 

The Gentle Hindu: Now this guy just makes me sad. He's a 70 yr old Indian man who was once a college professor in his home country. The man is brilliant and working in a job that is not only entirely beneath his qualifications, but he's so unfailingly kind and unassuming that you rarely notice he's in the room. Not a great match for a disciplinary alternative school. He has a beautiful accent and impeccable manners...all of which render him useless with difficult adolescents. They just won't respect him. I'll be fighting a battle with the kids all year about being respectful to this man who really deserves so much respect that I'm awed by it. He's the other teacher's aide. Yes, that's right. He's a teacher's AIDE. So this brilliant man will be mostly responsible for grading completed work and filing. He's very slow and shows no initiative. He's just a meek guy. For some reason, I feel guilty and ashamed when I have to ask him to do anything. The man is really too old to be working in this setting. He should be enjoying his grandchildren! 

Teacher of the Decade: I love this woman! She's in her 50s and has been in the district for 20 yrs.  She's also a legend in the district. She was a master teacher and could write her own ticket in just about any other district she would even think of choosing, but she stays in Mayberry. She runs the credit recovery program as well as several other programs for home bound students. She's smart and seasoned, but she has a love for kids that rivals my own...if not surpasses it. The credit recovery program, however, is bleeding money. When I got the financials two weeks ago, I went into shock. She seems more than willing to work with me on the changes I have outlined to make the program better. She and I worked together the past couple of years on some other projects, so I feel I have an ally in all of this. We'll probably do happy hours together too. Did I mention I most likely will become a lush this year. The worst part? She mostly works out of an office in a completely different building. Yes, my shit luck just gets better, doesn't it?

The Organization Queen: I love this woman too. She's real. She's the "paraprofessional" that does the day-to-day running of the credit recovery lab. She's been moved out of her little domain into mine and is not so happy about it. Mostly for the same reasons I'm not happy: those top three from above. She has lost her own room and is now relegated to a corner in the main disciplinary program classroom. While she's not happy with that, she's at least happy about having me as her new boss. Thank God for small miracles! She's very outspoken, a bit rigid, but she's willing to see things in a different way. She's quite possibly the most organized person I've ever met, next to my BFF ATown.  I do feel, however, that I'll be breaking up smackdowns between her and the Bossy Hypo. She's in the happy hour crowd with me as well. 

So there you are. Quite a year coming up for ole Sassy in Mayberry. My office is an odd rectangular shape that feels cramped with my stuff in it. I still have no phone or computer. The bitches at the high school will prove to be difficult because they are not at all concerned about the kids they send over. But hey, I wanted high school experience, right? At least they moved in our furniture last week. Finally. Only less than a week before school starts. Yeah.

I'm thinking now that I most definitely should have asked for more money. 

*No names, of course. I have to invent little nicknames that are neither clever nor funny, but they are exactly fitting. 

Under the Bridge

As you may or may not know, I moved recently. And as always when I decide to travel in any way, the dark cloud of travel once again followed me. Let's set the scene:

It's Texas...in August...otherwise known as the 7th level of Hell. To say that it's fucking hot here...well, that's just not enough! It's hotter than two rats fucking in a wool sock, that's what it is! 107 degrees? WTF? This isn't Phoenix, people! 

Anywho, Derk and my BIL along with close friends of the family were kind enough to show up to throw their backs out for me. I had rented a 24' UHaul  monster truck that my BIL was kind enough to offer to drive even though the man has screws in his leg from a recent house painting injury (yes, we're a graceful lot, my family). Now I'll skip the 4 hours of loading all my shit and get to the real issues of the move. Derk, my niece  and FoF are in my car, and my BIL, his nephew,  and Dewey are in the monster truck. About 12 miles from my house, Dewey (strapping young friend of the family) calls me on my cell to tell me that the truck is running hot, and we need to take the next exit off the freeway. So we exit, and as I take the turn to the gas station, we look back and see that there is smoke and steam rising from the monster truck and there is a big bailout by the boys driving. I mean, who knew a guy with a broken leg could move his ass so fast? Yes, the UHaul blew up, which caused my niece to have a panic attack and me very nearly a heart attack! So, we ended up having to park my car under the underpass and wait 2.5 fucking hours for the mechanic from the roadside assistance to show up because you know I couldn't just leave that bitch there. But hey, we had beer and a sense of humor. Of course, we weren't in the best part of town, but several Mexicans waved at us as they drove by, and a Dallas County sheriff asked us if we needed any help. Did I mention it was 2,000 degrees out that day? So, what should have been a 6-8 hour smooth operation turned into a 14-hour nightmare. Yes, the mechanic showed up and fixed the truck. Yes, I called the UHaul place and ripped them a new asshole. Yes, my move was free save for the $37 in gas I put into that piece of shit. Yes, I can hardly move as a result of moving my shit. I hate moving. It sucks big, hairy, dirty balls. Next time, I'm selling everything and starting out fresh!

But look what I got in the mail as a housewarming gift (minus the puny, girlyman arm):

Dyckie, in the future, I should let you know that I prefer diamonds...

And I'm too tired to make this funny...

*Seriously people, I don't really talk like this in "real life"...I'm not nearly as profane. But it's really fucking hot here!

Soundtrack of My Life...For Now

Recently, I read an interesting post at Okay Seriously where she completed the "soundtrack" to her life. Being quite a music buff, I started thinking immediately what my soundtrack would be. So without further ado, I give you the Soundtrack of My Life as it is now (I can't say how it will be tomorrow):

Opening credits: Extraordinary-Liz Phair
I love this song even though I know she got a lot of flack for supposedly "selling out". With "I am extraordinary/if you'd ever get to know me", I think that's how everyone should feel about themselves.

Waking Up: Here Comes the Sun-The Beatles

Average Day: Everyday America-Sugarland
I work in Mayberry. What else can I say?

First date: Take a Chance on Me-ABBA
God I LOVE this song, and I don't care who knows it!

Falling in Love: I Bruise Easily-Natasha Bedingfield
I also thought "I'll Be"by Edwin McCain. I love him. That song is amazing. And then I also considered "I Think I Love You" by the Partridge Family. Really.

Love Scene: At Last-Etta James
This song has such a sexy vibe. It's definitely on my "sex songs" list along with "Possession" by Sarah McLachlan.

Fight Scene: Eye of the Tiger-Survivor
Other notables were "We Will Rock You" and "Another One Bites the Dust" by Queen.

Breaking up: No Ordinary Love-Sade
Holy shit! This must be one of the best songs ever recorded! I also thought of Puddle of Mudd's "She Hates Me"...I love that song.

Getting Back Together: I Will...But-SHeDAISY
Ladies, if you don't know it, you should really take a listen.

Secret Love: I Love You-Sarah McLachlan
This song just ACHES.

Life’s Okay: I Could Not Ask For More-Edwin McCain

Mental Breakdown: Crazy-Patsy Cline

Driving: Hotel California-The Eagles
I will sing this song at the top of my lungs with all the windows down! I love it! Also in the running was "Drive My Car" by the Beatles, "Heads Carolina, Tails California" by JoDee Messina, or "Fast Car" by Tracy Chapman. And what about the classic Roger Miller "King of the Road"?

Learning a Lesson: Say-John Mayer

Deep Thought: Thank U-Alanis Morrisette

Flashback: Footloose-Kenny Loggins

Partying: Blue Monday-New Order/Blister in the Sun-Violent Femmes
What can I say? I can't tell you how many times in college I was drunk, and the Violent Femmes were playing in the background...

Happy Dance: Pocketful of Sunshine-Natasha Bedingfield
I think I might have a girl crush on her. I also like "Bust a Move" by Young MC and "It Takes Two" by Rob Base for a little happy dance.

Regretting: It's Too Late-Carole King
This was before my time, but the woman is incredible. This song always makes me a little sad.

Long Night Alone: Here With Me-Dido

Death Scene: My Immortal-Evanescence
This song is so depressing yet I still love it. Also, "It's So Hard to Say Goodbye"-Boyz II Men.I'm a sucker for harmonies..

Closing Credits: 100 Years-Five for Fighting

*Bear in mind that there were so many songs that could go with any label. It was really difficult...try it yourself and let me know!

Reversal of Fortune

I have to relay a very interesting story about some things that took place early this week. As you may or may not know, I'm STILL working my contract days in Mayberry. Some genius thought it would be great to make sure all campus offices were open all summer...which basically means that those of us working an 11-month contract had our vacation time broken up so that you end up doing two weeks on and then two weeks off all summer. Anywho, when I got to work on Monday, I received a brief email from the Sheriff's secretary which summoned me to a meeting in his office later that day. CCed in the email was the name of one of the Asst. Big Bosses, so I must admit my fertile imagination began to conjure all types of scenarios as to why this meeting was taking place. 

When my boss, Big C, came in later that morning, she looked a little off. I thought it might be related to the less than stellar test scores we had received back that morning. I asked her if she knew why I was summoned over to Alliance headquarters, and I received a curt, "I was told not to talk about it, " in response. Now this is when I really started to worry about my continued employment.  Don't get me wrong, I have done excellent work in Mayberry. I'm relatively well-known and liked  around the district. However, I have seen 5 people unceremoniously shown the door in Mayberry since the new Sheriff took over. Without any elaboration as to the context of this meeting and Big C slapped with a gag order, I admit I was starting to sweat a little. For 3 agonizing hours I wrung my hands over what I could have possibly done to get terminated. Did they find out I'd violated the acceptable use of technology policy when I blogged that one time from work? Did I forget to sign something that had resulted in a lawsuit against the district? Had I managed to fly so far under the radar that he thought I was just coasting along without doing any real work? Had (God forbid) there been some kind of accusation been made against me of inappropriate conduct? Time just ticked by painfully slowly, and I was thinking up all sorts of horrible outcomes. You can imagine how I worked myself into a fucking lather waiting for this mystery meeting!

Now cut to me arriving at Alliance headquarters for the ill-fated get together. I was shown to the Sheriff's office where I found not only him, but the Asst. Big Boss AND the HR Director! I thought, " Holy shit! The HR Director?  I'm SO getting fired!" Somehow, I remained outwardly calm and stumbled to the chair I was offered. Here's a transcript of the initial few minutes of the conversation:

Sheriff: Sassy, thank you for coming. 

Me: Mmm hmm...no problem. 

Sheriff: Well, I'm sure you're wondering why I asked you here on such short notice.

Me: Yes sir! Umm, are you going to fire me?

Sheriff: Of course not! (much hearty laughter followed) I asked you here along with Asst. Big Boss because we want to ask for your help. We have a need in the district that we feel you are the only person that can help us. 

Me: Okay...

Sheriff: Sassy, I'd like to offer you the position of Head of Important Other Programs.* 

Me: I'm sorry, what? You aren't going to fire me? 

Sheriff: Oh no! I'm offering you a promotion. What questions do you have for me?

After I regained consciousness, I asked several pointed questions, and the Sheriff and Asst, Big Boss began to gush about me, my skills, my job performance, and how they had spent weeks interviewing outside candidates that they just didn't feel would be the best fit for the position. I then asked why me for this position. What followed was another gush of compliments about how they had decided to look at people already in district and that my name came up over and over.  I thanked them, and then I asked another very direct question: "In my experience, this kind of position is where districts often dump the mediocre or assign people whom they hope will quit because they don't really want to have to fire them. This isn't the case here, is it? Because if so, I can say with confidence that I have done an excellent job, am far from mediocre, and if you wanted me to leave, you'd just have to ask. " His reply, "Sassy, if I thought along those lines, I'd just terminate your employment here. Surely you know by now that I don't tolerate mediocrity? And with someone of your caliber in this position, we hope to eliminate that perception and get the various programs up to snuff. I , well we feel that you are the best person for the job." 

After I regained consciousness a second time, I accepted, thanked him for the confidence in me, and was ushered off to the HR Director's office to discuss the benefits of said promotion. Along with some added status, and a newer, bigger office, the position comes with an big ole pay raise! HOLY SHIT!!!! Do you think they read my blog?? 

So there you have it! I got a promotion! And a big raise! Yay ME! Although I'm very sad to leave  my current campus, I'm extremely excited about the possibilities and the broader experience my new job has to offer. Although the next two weeks will be extremely busy for me with my residence move and now setting up a new office, I just want to say THANKS to all of you for your support and encouragement. I heart you guys...

XOXOXOXOXO

*Name changed to make sure I can't be searched and fired! :)

Don't You Want Me?

Well folks, it's back to Mayberry for another year. Now this isn't necessarily a bad thing. I mean, I love the fine folks in Mayberry! They are not only kind, they are mostly a lot of fun. However, Mayberry is not a place that will allow me to move forward professionally before reaching my 50s. A dead end you say? Yes, I'm afraid so. I'm sure at some point, I'll tire of the kindness and fun...and the small paycheck. But hey, I'm taking steps to move closer to Mayberry if for no other reason than to stop the senseless rape that occurs to me endlessly at the gas pump. I cannot continue to be a victim of such violence! So my new commute will be about 10-15 minutes versus the 45 minutes I've maintained for the past 3 years. I'll no longer be a homeowner, but ask me how sad I am about not pouring anymore of my hard-earned cash into this godforsaken money pit. Anywho, the real reason for this post is to ask you for a job. (No, Dyckerson, not THAT kind of job! Jesus H. Christ you're a perv!)

So here are my qualifications: I'm an experienced educator. I have an enviable and impressive amount of diverse experience that should make me attractive and valuable to most any organization. I have a masters degree and will be working on my doctorate in the next 3 years. I'm a problem solver and damn good at it! I'm dependable, responsible, and extremely loyal. I care about my coworkers. I am excellent in crisis situations (ask anyone!). I have no police record, and my driving record is surprisingly clean.  I'm certified to restrain you, and I can do so without hurting anything more than your pride. I am certified to deliver first aid and CPR. I'm certified to teach and manage and evaluate both adults and children. I read pretty well and quite often. Most people think I'm the shit (seriously, most people do like me). I'm in relatively good health (maybe a little chubbier than I would like, but I'm committed to taking care of that), but I've only filed one workers comp complaint ( a rotten board at a stadium was certainly not MY fault). I have low blood pressure and high energy. I have a strong work ethic, and a sunny disposition.  I love dogs, and well, they love me too. Well, most animals really. Children of all ages love me. I'm generally told that I make people laugh, both at me and with me. I'm all the rage at weddings and barbecues. I have a Tivo. I have big boobs. I'm a hugger. I wear clean underwear. I bake. I go to confession (although to be honest, that's dropped off a bit since Father Liam took that post in Bolivia). I look people in the eye and have a firm handshake. Although I do enjoy alcoholic beverages on occasion, I'm drug and disease free. I'm from Texas, but I've lived on both coasts and actually want to move away again.  I mean seriously, why wouldn't someone offer me a position with more money and a bigger office? What the hell is going on? What does a gal have to do to move up around here? 

If my qualifications might meet your needs, please inquire within. Serious inquiries only, please. I'm pretty busy around here as it is. 

*You might also remember that I own a gun and know how to use it. Thanks!