Saturday, October 24, 2009

Bad Date Good Luck


I went on a bad date a month or so ago with an cynical activist guy, who had no sense of humor. Enough said. But while the date himself was not impressive, I had a tremendous time at the art gallery where the date took place. I met a lovely woman named Becky and her lovely friend named Myles, and we have now forged a lovely trifecta of artistry, where in Becky and Myles pump me full of wine and take pictures of me looking coy. Best bad date ever.

Sunday, October 4, 2009

Thursday, September 24, 2009

I CAN!

So, I teach a mental health 1st-2nd grade class. This means that besides dodging flying chairs and watching the therapist run after students who have jumped out the window- I hear a lot of the old "I Can't" mantra. It hurts my ears to hear this terrible phrase. So, on top of giving my student a WTF look every time I hear those awful, disgusting words, and reminding them that they are the F-cking BOMB! I wrote them an I CAN! poem:

I can do anything,
I know I can!
Even if I'm feeling bad!

I can do anything,
I know it's true!
Watch me show
What I can do!

I can do anything,
I know I will!
I can do anything
Standing still!
I can do anything
On the run!
I can do anything
and make it fun!

I can do anything!
Yes I can!
And everyone will know
I'm my biggest fan!

Monday, September 14, 2009

All It Takes Is a Little Bit of Poop

My cat Guzman de la Guzman, aka The Gooze, is notorious for his voracious appetite. Loaves of bread have been drilled into, sausages stolen, biscut after biscut swiped from right off the table. He's The Gooze. Shameless. Fat. Heart of Gold.

Ever since I moved into my new apartment, I have allowed The Gooze to roam freely outside, a luxury he never experienced before. For a reason.

I came home Friday night to find The Gooze completely uninterested in my sandwich as I sat down on the couch to take a big bite. Strange. Then I found that all the food in his dish had not been eaten. Very Strange. I went to bed, mildly concerned, but too drunk to google it.

The next morning, I slept in, without once being woken up by a fishy little toungue running itself all over my face. Now this was completely absurd. I fed my other cat, Walter, who munched furiosuly while The Gooze vaguely lifted his eyes at me when I shook the food box. This NEVER, EVER happens. For a minute, I thought, wow, maybe this is a reformed Gooze, a Gooze with patience, manners, a sense of pride. It was a thrilling thought with a bright future. I imagined myself able to leave gorceries on the table without a friend to guard them. I saw dinner parties where people were relaxed and happy, Gooze Free. I heard absolutely nothing in the morning. Or maybe he had eaten poop.

I brought the Gooze in to emergency pet care, and indeed The Gooze had eaten poop. Poop has the uncanny ability to ruin an appetite, not only because it's poop, but because it is a carrier for coccidia, a nasty little bacteria that will make even the hungriest of Goozes completely catorexic.

The vet gave me some medicine and I took the little fatty home. It had been a wonderful two days. Even my roomate commented on how much better life is with the Gooze in remission. No furry hand shooting out from thin air as I attempt to get into a juicy corndog, no trail of bred crumbs strewn about the kitchen, no trash knocked over with shreds of tin foil sticking to my feet. There might be something to this coccidia thing. The South Poop Diet.

With bittersweetness, the Gooze is back on his fat again and eating like there is no tomorrow. It was nice while it lasted, and all it took was a little bit of poop.

Tuesday, July 14, 2009

One Liners

Yep.

Today I was talking to my student Mario who is the cutest, sweetest little space cadet I've ever met. He's 8 years old and acts like he eats sugar sandwiches. He was off task today, singing the "Cut Your Nugget Out" song another student made up last week when I asked him, "Mario, what is your job right now?"

He responds passionately,"To shut up!"

"Okaaayyy," I say in semi-agreement,"What else is your job?"

Without pause, "To pull myself together!"

True. This is why I love kids. They shamelessly embody the nature of the open mic comedian:
When they crack you the fuck up, it's completely unintended.

Monday, July 13, 2009

YO! Ms. Baer Raps

My name is Ms.Baer,
I've got short hair,
If you wanna go to college
I'll help ya get there!

Do you like math?
Do you like to read?
Do you run around the
playground at a very high speed?

If yes is the answer then
I'll see you at school,
Reading big books
and acting real cool,
cuz learning is Awesome,
Fun and Fresh,
Did you know S stands for Student
on Super Man's chest?

You've got the brains,
You've got the heart,
All you've got do is
Ready, Set Start!!!

Saturday, June 27, 2009

California Loving

So, I moved to Oakland, California about a week and a half ago. Guess what?

It's sunny.

California is exactly like the brochure- Perfect blue sky, 70 degree weather, ripe lemons dangling from the tree boughs, slim, attractive people jogging about without any indication of sweat. It's perfect.

I'm pretty sure I'm going to live here for the rest of my life. Unless of course, I marry the prince of Estonia and am forced to live in a castle where I sing to raccoons and brush my hair three hundred strokes before bedtime.