Wicked Plants

http://www.bbg.org/exp/wickedplants/

We must see this exhibit at Brooklyn Botanic Gardens called "Wicked Plants"

There is an audio tour!

Make it happen Kim

Cruel Intentions?

As you may or may not know, I work part-time in a medical billing office. In doing so, I've started to wonder about the intentions of parents. Is it possible that some are just plain cruel? There is just no forseeable good in naming your child Melvin Anything, Robert Roberts, Kermit, or LaQuinta.

Pretty Standard

Saw Brüno and re-enforced any preexisting feelings I held towards Alabama and its residents. Pity and disgust are a nasty combination.

Lots of day camp and children lately. I think they are growing on me, which wasn't really supposed to happen. I almost had a situation during arts and crafts today (don't worry, all the crafts are relevant to cheerleading) involving the yarn dolls we were making (I will include a picture for your viewing pleasure). Serenity (who as she put it, has the only "dark face" on the squad) was presented with the decision of which color yarn she wanted to make her doll out of. (I'd purchased a shade specifically with her in mind!) Seeing the other girls' choices, she went with the crowd and picked the cream-colored yarn. Faced with the same dilemma, little Chloe Rodriguez reacted identically.
What to do, you ask? I make a point to pick the dark brown yarn for myself to show them that different is cool (even though we all know it's not). As a result, Chloe and Serenity want to switch their choice and proudly honor their ancestors, and I end up with a doll that looks like this:



So you see Jane, these are the real-life issues I am dealing with on a daily basis. I'm out in the field, working through some powerful stuff. Also, I made a girl cry the other day and wanted to punch myself in the face. Kevin had a kid tell him that he wanted to "stab his mom with a bayonette" and Michael got kicked in the balls by an 8 year old asian kid named Richard.

Pretty standard.

Locks of lust

Can you imagine, some person out there has been growing their hair for years for the "locks of love" cause. She thinks that her hair is going to create a wig for a cancer patient, when in fact it ends up in a Salon in Orange County to be used as hair extensions for some actress or even worse some girl who wants to look rad for her super sweet 16. What is thatt?

Betrayal and abadonment

I'm still anxiously waiting for the return of the subway scrabbler.

That is the betrayal of all time. Maybe not all time, but in this century. Worse than Macbeth but I guess not as bad as Judas.

Is he ever going to come back or will this abandonment have me going in for some sort of treatment.

Also, I've found a way to get cancer.

If instead of the movie drinking game, where you take a sip of beer every time there's a cue, you smoke with the cast of Mad Men - taking a drag every time the characters do - surely you will have cancer by the end of the season. So full of treats, I'd say every two seconds a treat is lit. Kids play inside dry cleaning bags, pregnant women smoke and drink, typewriters are dummy proofed (for the women secretaries).. its such a great time in America's history.

Sabotage

Yesterday we had 52 posts. Today, 51.

Why is blogger sabotaging us? Did it finally happen? Did we just get too good for the internet?

Camp(fire) Stories

During the first week of camp we had an overabundance of soccer players with a huge range of ages, so I was recruited to take the little soccer kids (4 and under) for the day. Chandler (who is 4, and about whom I've already made several assumptions) sat on the ground and pouted when asked to play soccer. When I asked Chandler what it was he wanted to do, he replied "pick flowers." Then he wanted to play "the color game," which involves one person (usually me) picking a color, and the other person (always Chandler) deciding if that color were "pretty, cute, or handsome."
I think I see a real future for both Chandler and the game.


On the first day of cheerleading camp, I was talking to each girl in turn to try and get to know them a little (because I care deeply about all that children have to say of course). Three of the girls are sisters and are Spanish (not Mexican, as they made exceedingly clear). I asked if they spoke spanish at home and they said they did, and another girl chimed in that she spoke spanish at home too. When I told them how "awesome" I thought that was, little Maggie got jealous and loudly exclaimed "WELL I EAT TORTILLAS!" No one really likes Maggie, myself included.


Fridays are always water balloon days. We play a few rounds of egg toss with the balloons and follow with a rousing game of hit the coach. Being children, the campers are largely incompetent at this game (except the ruthless football players) and are unable to effectively hit the coach. As a result, the coach has 2 choices; either catch the water balloons they throw and give them infinite chances (they are bound to do it eventually) or let them come up and help them pop the water balloon over your own head. In both cases, the worst part is having to pretend you're enjoying yourself.

Adventures dos

A trip through the Ocean State more commonly known as the Smallest State.I tried coloring inside the lines, but unfortunately I haven't practiced coloring since middle school. Excuse the mess.