Blah, blah blah

It's been a while and I have a lot to write. But right now, I just have to make a quick confession. I don't know what BlogHer is. And...the really bad part, I'm not sure that I give a flying f...I mean that I don't care. I keep reading about it on the various blogs I read. People are tweeting about it. To me, it sounds just like another freaking cult. Heaven knows, I am just barely dodging the freaks in the "scholastic journalism cult," pretty sure I don't need to start hanging out with a whole nother cult subgroup.

Am I missing something huge here? Actually, I'm not even sure of why I'm asking y'all. Odds are good, you don't know what it is either. Well, except for Fran. Odds are good she knows. She might even care now that I think about it. She recently tweeted that she found something that let her know when people stopped following her. She's keeping track of who's reading her and who's not. It almost makes me nervous, but part of me just thinks it's her OCD side acting up. At any rate, the amount I don't care about BlogHer is only exceeded by the amount I don't care if someone stops following me on Twitter. Well, unless it's one of my sisters, or the BFF or Truett. But other than that, don't care.

And BlogHer? Well, if there is some kind of convention for the 6 of you following me, well, let's party down, but other than that... I'm good.

Ok, at some point I'll blog about my week with the BFF, why school is going to kick my ass this year, the challenged issued for me to get a date before the end of August, why it is possible for my parents to make me totally insane, helping a former student pass a college summer school English class and, as always, my darling pets. (Think of these things as topics to look towards with excitement and expectation...feel free to throw down your preference for which story to tell first...)

I'm gonna let you go now"

First, I would like to say, although I am about to go on a total rant, if you are one of the people I love that does this, simply know that I love you despite the fact you do something that drives me totally effing nuts.

So, recently I was talking to a friend of mine who was ready to get off of the phone and let me know that by saying these 6 little words, "I'm gonna let you go now."

Why? Why do people say that? As if they are doing us favors. Because they care so much, they are letting us off the phone. Warms the cockles of my heart when it isn't making me totally and completely insane.

Why not just say, I have to go now, or even the slightly harsher, you bore me and now I'm done talking to you or I need to go clean my bathtub. I don't care. Just don't do me any favors. Sheesh

Why are people so crazy?

Ok, fine, why am I so crazy? It's been a while since I've had time to blog. It's been a while since I've had something to blog that didn't make me sound like I am totally nuts. I'm ok BEING nuts, I just try not to let proof of it hit the internet too often. At any rate, I've obviously decided to go with revealing nuttiness and let the cards fall where they may...

We are in the final week before spring break. THAT alone could make me insane. This means that we are trying to finish the last 86 pages of the yearbook that MUST be submitted by Friday. (Oh, and technically I am only supposed to have 32 pages left to submit, clearly, that didn't work out for us.) The senior staff is choosing next year's senior staff and the rest of the staff. It is a lot of pressure and responsibility. And it totally freaks me out as much as I believe in the system because I am still putting my future in their hands. Oh, and we are pretty sure there is another batch of proofs out there waiting to arrive before spring break but likely to arrive so as to give us a minimum amount of time to complete said proof pages cause that's the way these things work. Auuuggghhhhh

Last week was a bit freaky deaky with an ex. I mean bizarre. I'm not even sure of how to explain it except to say I've always thought of myself as the girl that dates the guys that are ambivalent at best. So, to have a former turn a little freaky "how can you date anyone else cause I was buying you a diamond even though we talk every 5 weeks or so and let me call your mom and talk to her before going radio silent" was disturbing to say the least.

In addition, the personal relationship seems to have shifted to some new level? place? state? and since I have no long term dating experience that isn't totally screwed up, I have NO basis for determining if this is all normal, weird or what. It's making me nuts. really. nuts. At any rate, I've taken advice and decided to sit back take a deep breath or two and just enjoy the ride. Let's see how long this little zen moment lasts.

The Crayon Box

OK, so once I felt confident my house was going to really sell, then I had to get the freak busy finding a place to live.

Let me tell you, there are some crappy ass places out there being rented out. The Crayon box was the best of the lot. More expensive, but built in 2002 with a great bathtub. (It's good to stay focused on the important stuff in life.)

Quick disclaimer: I had the camera on the wrong setting so all of the photos are a little blurry. Worry not about that, focus on the colors. It is like a clown threw up in this place.

First, lavender my friend. This entire room is lavender. For the boys, translate this as light purple.

The downstairs has a red wall. Not deep red. Not gorgeous red. RED, like clown red.

Master bedroom? I can only describe as Microsoft Blue . . .and peek your eye in that bathroom. . .yes, yes it is LIME green.

The best part for me? When I asked about painting, the property management company said the owner wanted to approve the colors. As IF it were possible to do worse. She has let me know twice since that the owner wants to have her take pictures so that he can see it. Whatever.

Embarrassing moments

Greeeaatttt, just had one of my editors walk in to find me crying as I wait on hold for Bank of America to decide if they are done screwing me or not.

Turns out there was an update of account sent to me, I'm certain it was a pamphlet filled with writing. Somewhere in there it said they are raising my interest rates unless I call within X number of days to complain.

Well, I missed that little cut off, I just realized that my minimum payment went up, and I didn't know why. So, they have to pull my credit report and I had to give reasons why raising my payment is a burden, and they will decide if they will return the rate to what it was.

Of course, I did a balance transfer to this account because of the rate. I, foolishly as it turns out, assumed that as long as I kept my end of the bargain and made my payments, the Bank of America bastards would keep their end of the bargain and leave my interest rate the same.

The best part: because my debt has increased I am a bigger risk, so they are raising my interest rate AND raising my payment. Does ANY ONE ELSE see a problem with this logic???

When it's better to be quiet and not post

That's right when you have nothing nice to say. . .

When you are cranky and full of venom. . .

When theme week makes you want to beat your head against a wall because the new editors are NOT taking it seriously and you KNOW that you are going to end up having a crappy ass year because of the fact that they are screwing up already. . .

When you get that stupid stargazer lily orange pollen crap on your beautiful pale pink jacket that you adore, and although the dry cleaner told you she thought that they could get it out you would prefer a "yes, that is coming out" response. . .

When your stomach has been slightly cranky for two days, and you aren't sure why AND when you chose to wear an unbearably tight skirt today that actually required undoing the buttons so that you could make it through the afternoon without fainting. . .

When you spent an evening at the laundrymat (a story unto itself quite frankly) trying to get your duvet and comforter cleaned one of which very definitely still has a big ass pee stain (dumb dogs) on it and the other is at least dark brown so that you can't tell although you are uncomfortably aware that odds are that the pee stain is still there too. . .

When you are about to spend TWO hours in an inservice about something you might find interesting and want to learn about but still can't bear the thought of TWO hours on any topic. . .

THAT's when you shouldn't post.

TAKS Tuesday

Today is TAKS testing day. TAKS testing day is a beating. I can't begin to describe how much I dislike it.

We go through training every single time we give the test. This means when we give another round of testing in approximately ONE FREAKING MONTH, we'll have to sit through training again. Oh, the pain of it all. It is the same set of instructions every single time. Our administration is crazed about the TAKS guidelines. I don't know if it is a fever passed down from TEA or their own freakish nature gone wrong. Every time a new rule emerges, we know it is a knee-jerk reaction to a "testing Infraction" that occurred "in another district." And woe be to the person that has a testing infraction. He/she will find a mountain of paperwork awaits, including filling out the "incident" report in triplicate with, I'm just certain, an extra copy for God. Oh, and most likely the person that has the misfortune of being anywhere near when the testing infraction occurs will find his/her teaching certificate being ripped away like hair off a new army recruits head. Gone. Total Certifiable Bullshit.

So, for 3 1/2 hours, 2 teachers in each room move continually about "active monitoring" as the kids test and probably get annoyed with the constant movement of the two freaking teachers.

One of our latest instructions is that we are not to have inflection in our voices when reading the instructions at the beginning of the testing period. Thank heavens I am the 2nd proctor and therefore not responsible for the reading of instructions. I don't think I'm capable of reading without inflection. My partner (a science teacher) has the deadpan voice down pat. He has almost put me to sleep.

Ok, they have made such a big deal of the horror of the testing infractions that I couldn't bear to keep my phone in the room. I had to go put it in my office. All I need to is to get fired for my phone vibrating. That would be stupendous.

The kids are now working diligently because a) they are good kids and b) even if it is a stupid test they are going to do their best because, well, they are good kids.

We still have two hours left. This is agony. You cannot imagine the boredom, except that if you are reading this I am bringing you along on the painful journey of boredom. Thanks for coming. It's like watching paint peel . . . or kids test . . . or sloths move. (Ok, sloths are fun to watch cause it's like a slo mo movie but this is making my eyelids twitch.)

This is crap.

One of the assistant principals just walked by. He is so lucky I don't own a gun. And I LIKE him. I made the international sign of "I'm having a great time." Gun to head, people. Gun to head.

9:38 I'm wearing a pair of pants that are 2 sizes too big. However, they are strangley short. I keep pulling them down because I've decided a saggy ass is better than high waters.

9:40 My partner has left to do something. . . anything but stare at the backs of 18 heads that are staring at the tests.

9:42 By now you should feel a nervous inkling that this is the post that will never end. Rightly so, because time has practically stopped in the room of TAKS testing. Feel my pain.

9:45 There is a strangely bad smell in this corner of the room, I'm not positive, but I'm pretty sure it is one of the boys. Good grief. We are in the land of plenty, How is it possible there's a kid with this kind of hygiene? This early in the morning? Yikes.

9:47 Student needed to potty . . .had to wait for an escort. I love TAKS testing.

9:49 Third student finishes this stupid excuse of a test. Wee have until 11:55!!!!

9:50 1st text proctor returns. Looks no more excited to be here than when he left. Clearly, he failed to take advantage of secret stash of vodka he must have in his desk drawer. I mean, we all have that right?

9:53 Required to have 1 Thesaurus for every 5 students. I begin looking up synonyms for really boring. Really- In truth, actually, fairly, genuinely, indeed, positively, truly, truthfully, verily

boring bore to fatigue with dullness or tedium
Arousing no interest or curiosity: drear, dreary, dry, dull, humdrum, irksome, monotonous, stuffy, tedious, tiresome, uninteresting, weariful, wearisome, weary.

Even the synonyms put me to sleep.

9:56 A student accidentally pushes a dictionary off of his desk. That's the most interesting thing to happen in the last 2 hours. Student apologizes. I want to cry.

10:00 Principal walks by window. Fails to appreciate how close to the edge I am.

10:02 4th student sneezes in 2 hours. I'm pretty sure it's a code. Must decipher soon.

10:03 Student clears throat. This cheating must be stopped.

10:05 Thought I would list synonyms for penis, but it's not in the thesaurus. What does this mean? Vagina isn't either. What kind of crappy ass Thesaurus is this? Suicidal isn't listed either. I say do NOT buy Roget's II New Thesaurus 3rd edition. It totally sucks.

10:20 After a brief expeditious escape break out to get cheeze its , water and a potty break, I return recrudesce (totally the wrong word, but I don't care . . . did I mention this Thesaurus sucks?)

10:28 I study the Cheez-its packaging. Baked check. (cause you know what fried does to me.) Nutritional facts: 160 cal and 8 grams of fat . . . not bad until you realize there are 2 servings. Tricky bastards. These are the peopel that probably cheated on the TAKS test and caused testing irregularities.

10:29 Going for a Cheez-it, the bag makes a noise. Student looks at me. Testing irregularity? Is this it? The end of a teaching career because I couldn't keep my hand out of the Cheez-it bag?

10:35 I begin contemplating what I could have done in a former life to possiblfy deserve this punishment. It's like Chinese water torture. Tehre is nothing. Jack the Ripper couldn't earn this punishment.

10:37 Smelly kid scent is now wafting towards me. I may up-chuck my Cheez-its.

10:39 My bordeom can only be equalled byt he student reading The Encyclopedia of Vitamin Supplements. Obviously, he is bored. I could read, but then I wouldn't be actively monitoring. Sigh.

4 students now sleeping. Oh, how I envy them.

10:44 Another nods off, wait, no, that was me.

10:45 I'm just realizing for the first time ever, not one student in the testing room has been in one of my classes. Apparently the end of the alphabet is not big on yearbook. Go figure.

11:12 Praise the Lord. Girl with broken foot needed to go tot he nurse to take medicine. Got to go with her. (Just in case broken foot was a ruse and she really planned to scream answers through the hallway.) Woudl have tripped her to extend time out of room if I didn't fear it would be a testing irregularity. 2 Asian girls in clear competition to see who could be the last one done. Not a lot of fun for the rest of us forced to remain quiet as long as tests are out.

11:30 Asian girl in corner wins. Controlling the urge to walk over to her rip the test of of her hands and yell "For Pete's sake, enough is enough. Finish the damn thing," I instead stare.

Please note great self-control being shown here.

11:35 20 minutes to go. Is it possible? Are we that close? Will the Asian girl in the corner EVER finish?

11:38 It is a miracle. Everyone is done!!

11:50 Bell rings 5 minutes early. I begin screaming, "Get out, get out, before they realize their mistake."

And that is how a morning can get shot to Hell.

Back on the farm

OK, while I have been running around New York like a mad thing, things have been happening back at school, I shall attempt to condense and be clear.

Background: There is a program called SASI that allows teachers to look up student schedules. Because I have so many kids that look up schedules ALL of the time, I have 3 log ins. This allows me to have kids working on the two computers across my room that I can see and the one at my desk. Technically students aren't supposed to be on SASI but it is an understood that my kids do this with my supervision.

It turns out that another teacher who is a bit of a bitch and a total idiot threw me under the bus as it were.

She has a rose thing she does with her organization (giving roses to raise money). So they had to look up a lot of schedules. The assistant principal went through the teachers workroom yesterday and saw four girls looking up schedules on sasi with NO ADULT in sight.

She was upset to say the least. In her conversation with the principal she said words to the effect of how all these girls have been saying over and over how they look up schedules all of the time and that they kept telling her that I would give her my password happily. WHAT? Why would she even mention my name?

She had called me the night before to ask for my password, but I didn't call her back. The principal called me this morning and left a message saying that another teacher has made the "accusation?" and that he is just trying to find out the truth, and if it is true he will have to fill out a report??!! Got to be kidding me. I want to beat the shit out of the stupid fat proxide bitch.

So, my SASI acount has been cancelled and I have to meet with her and the principal next week. Can't tell you how thrilled I am about all of that.

Why did I get out of bed?

I'm not even sure of where I should begin . . let's do this topically.

Financial: Total mess. I got a bill this past weekend for my gas bill. It seems the last time I paid my freaking bill was November. I'm pretty sure it is because every bill I have gotten since November has been outrageous so I think, I'm going to put this bill aside and call them before I pay, only I keep forgetting to call. So I get another bill and think the same thing. Now I have a bill that is almost $1,000. SHIT.

Oh, but that isn't all. I also got a bill from my alarm company saying gee you never paid so we have shut off monitoring. I called them and find out that since I only pay once a year, I haven't paid since 2006??? Are you kidding me? They couldn't give me a shout out??? So to start it back up I have to pay $250.00. Fine if I weren't in the middle of paying the gas bill.

When it gets warm I'm going to have to start working Harry Hines. I'm NOT FREAKING KIDDING. I mean I make a decent salary. Why can't I live within my means???? What is wrong with me?

Social: Need I go into detail? Suffice to say making arrangements to meet a fellow dater in this busy world is damn difficult. Especially when life keeps getting in the way. I couldn't get five minutes alone today to think let alone to say call any one and or get a call to make a plan. It probably doesn't help a thing that all I want to do is go to bed at the end of days like this. Auuuggghhhhh.

Have you ever had a person that you need to break away from but have trouble making it happen? I'm there. Have you had a friendship that just ended, but it kind of bugged you because you were like what the heck happened? Have one of those too, but I'm a total chicken and don't really want to deal with it even though it is bugging me.

School: Ah, always a good time. First, I got an email from a parent asking me when the senior ads meetings that we have each spring are going to be. I starting asking the kids. NO ONE KNEW. So, finally someone has the dates. Sure as shit, one of the dates is the night I have JUST MOVED my opera ticket to AND bought a second ticket for. Shit Shit Shit. I was ready to cry.

Second, senior ads, for the uninitiated into my life, are in the back of the yearbook. They are, literally, half the book. 8 ads managers and 500 sets of parents meet up for 3 weeks in the spring to do ads for the next years seniors. "Oh, Johnny we love you." "Oh, Katherine, you are fabulous and amazing." . . .with pictures. We make lots and lots of money. We used to make all the ad appointments on paper. Ridiculous. So I found a scheduling program and purchased it. It worked great for a year and then we started having problems.

Ok, fine, so I go to a different program this year. We've been using for camera checkout for the photographers. I'm trying to get stuff ready for ad sales, and the program is skitzy. In case you are wondering, the program is Office Tracker

Side note: All I ask is that if possible fit into conversations with everyone you know that this company has one tech guy, one sales girl and an inability to take care of business. In short, they suck pond water.

and the program was ok, but their service SUCKS. I don't need more people to talk to me like I'm stupid. If I need that shit I can call a relative. Seriously, we couldn't even add names to the program and they talked to us like we were totally annoying.

So, I found another program. These people are at least really nice, but still getting it all set up is practically killing me. I am so frustrated and annoyed with all of it.

Third, in the meantime, I am trying to upgrade my Adobe Indesign. I called to upgrade and Adobe tells me that they can't sell to education institutions. I have to call a third party vendor. OK, fine. So I call Jostens (the company that does our yearbook and that usually I LOVE.) Spoke to a woman who doesn't listen to me and is totally condesending. Really? Not to be to bitchy about it but I'm running the largest yearbook in the country with one of if not the biggest publishing bill. The truth is even if I was a baby book I'd be pissed to be talked to that way. So, I talk to her boss. Who again, doesn't really listen. I don't actually care if I can get an upgrade or adobe is wacked out and insists that I buy all new versions. We have the money. I just want the programs. Is it really that difficult?

Now, it was, without a doubt, a crappy ass day, but I do have to say that without the BF being there as I thought I would start screaming and crying at the same time and without Daisy who very, very sweetly agreed to go to Taco Cabana (please note we chose a totally cheap place since as afore mentioned I AM TOTALLY BROKE) to get something to eat and a much needed marguarita I would not have survived the day.


photo illustrations by moi but all original images snatched from the internet.

Inservice Begins

"Cell Phone as a Learning Tool" taught by my dear friend, KT, began my day. The class hasn't begun yet, but she is starting to get a look of concern. I think she is eyeballing the participants trying to decide who she will want to give the smack down to first. Personally, I'm laughing my ass off. I'm in the back and hiding, so I think I'm clear, but some of these people really shouldn't have sat so close to the front.

First, I have to say I love a class that begins with pull out your cell phone.

I knew I would be sitting in the back multi-tasking because I am a multi-tasking fiend. I multi-task so that I have myself occupied when things slow down. This is important because I can be very annoying to those around me with my desire to answer questions, as well as a need to make jokes and distract others. Hey, I acknowledge that had I been born 15, ok fine, 20 years later I would have been raised on Ridalin and stamped ADD without so much as a by your leave.

I'm looking around the room and it is an interesting crowd. The drama teacher who I KNOW doesn't even let cell phones near the classroom. The cheerleading sponsor and the drill team sponsor because they are all about adding cell phones into their curriculum of learning. HA. The assistant principal I love, but who I am pretty sure hasn't taught anything in a few years. The 3 4 admin assistants . . . again, not sure that they are going to be utilizing this info.

Ok, I've done other posts in the meantime, but I have to give props to my friend, KT. She did a really great job. I had fun and learned a lot. You, my blog audience, will benefit from this more than anyone, so enjoy.

Jewelry making

So, in July or August I went to a cool bead store called Splendor in the Grass, got caught up in the thrill of beads, but a totally expensive necklace, a bunch o beads to make a necklace for my mom and one for me. This is how I spend money I don't have. sigh.

Ok, so at any rate, I failed to do anything with the beads. My friend, Roseanne, actually made the necklace for my mom. (It was two necklaces that could be worn separately or together. Very cool.)

I finally attended a bead making class Saturday morning. There were six of us. I was definitely the youngest one by a good bit.

First, I would like to discuss the supplies. There were quite a few required.

1. Some kind of pliers. Very specialized and absolutely important.
2. Pointy thing for pulling out "mystery knots". Turns out this actually is important especially if you are prone to bad knots.
3. Small pointy scissors. Very specialized and so terribly important. (Pretty certain small scissors can be bought anywhere, but maybe that's just me.)
4. Another pair of pliers. Also terribly important, blah, blah, blah
5. Two wooden sticks used for "stretching" the string. Absolutely fabulous and a must for everyone to own. Sigh.
6. Six ft of string post stretching and with one knot. I am very good at knot making I would like to add. I feel it is because as a young child I had deep love for buttons. So much so that I would sew buttons onto clothing for hours on end. If you don't believe me, ask my mother. She'll tell you.
7. So small you can hardly seem them . . . even in reality. The little hooky things that go on either end of the bracelet to hold the thing together.
8. Pages and pages of instructions. Most of which even after the class I don't think make a lot of sense.

So, as you can see, the class seems to require a lot of specialized stuff. I think that is tiring. I know it is in the store's best interest to suck us in and get us to buy a lot of extra supplies etc, but first, I'd really like to determine if it is something I really want to do. Know what I mean?

The knotting process is the basic knot but it has to be very tight and right against each bead. See exhibit 1. I had to draw attention to the specialized gold small sharp scissors because although I was fairly certain I had a pair of sharp small scissors at home, I couldn't resist purchasing the pretty gold ones for myself. Besides, if I ever decide to poke my eyes out, this is the pair I'll be using because they are really, really sharp. I had to get a close up shot of the string with knots. It was a two hour class and basically the entire time was spent on learning how to knot properly. Then, voila it was done. The beautiful bracelet. I would like to add a small note at the bottom. The entire reason I took this class was so that I could make a necklace just like the one I had bought. When I went in the store in December I clearly told them that is what I wanted to do. So, when in class I asked how to I make an endless necklace that doesn't have a clasp or anything, I was informed that she couldn't teach me that because that was taught in the NEXT class. I would need to take the next class to be able to do that. To say the least, I was pissed. I spent a ton of money on the stupid beads. I paid to take the stupid class. I bought SOME of their stupid supplies. I went ahead and bought some stupid clasps that can make it somewhat endless since I don't know how to do exactly what I want. Bastards want even more money?????

So, I studied other necklaces and I think I have figured a way to make it work. I'll let you know how it goes.

The Tale of the Trophy Case

Ok, so I thought I wrote about this in August, but when I go back, I discover that I did not. Drat.

That means I have to give the back story before I can give the current story. I'll try to keep it to the point. I have added visual aides especially for those that need 'em. So, first as you walk down the hallway towards the journalism wing, you approach with the trophy case on the left. The yearbook and newspaper staffs have historically split this case and decorated appropriately. The newspaper door is on the right and then you go through two doors that, in effect, lead to the yearbook wing. There are two banks of lockers that newspaper and yearbook kids generally split.

Now, once through the double doors there is a classroom on the left. That has been a newspaper staff room, but now it is an English room because there aren't enough rooms in the building for all of the classes. On the right is a door that leads to my office, but alas, doesn't actually open, so it just makes people think that knocking on it will get them somewhere, but it only gets them on my last nerve most of the time. The door straight ahead, obviously, leads to the Highlander yearbook room. hoorah. Please note the areas above the lockers marked by the red line. I will refer to these later in the story.

I teach with X. X used to actually have two rooms as mentioned above. When he lost the second room, he was, apparently, at a LOSS (I mean totally and completely BEWILDERED as to where to put the MANY trophies that the newspaper staff had won through the years).

The principal, not finding this to be the most important thing he would deal with the week before school started, casually said, "Won't don't you hang them in the hallway above the lockers?" Problem solved.

But no, alas X was ssscccaaarrreeeedddd to ask the mean yearbook teacher if it was ok to put the trophies in said hallway. So the principal sent an email. Fine with me she said, but he might want to put them in his room where his children can see them first, and put the extras in the hall. . . (please refer to above image that shows the double doors and that the newspaper kids would NEVER see said trophies unless they had a locker in that back hall).

The Principal wrote back with perhaps a touch of a snap in the email. Hmm said the yearbook adviser, wonder what that is about, but having many things to do THE WEEK BEFORE SCHOOL, she didn't waste a lot of brain cells on that one.

In the meantime, it was pointed out that the trophy case was looking a little sad and woebegone and perhaps we could spruce it up. So,I the yearbook adviser suggested he put the trophies in the case . . . because there were soooo very many of them you know.

A few more exchanges occurred that almost caused the yearbook adviser to choke the living shit become very frustrated with her coworker.

I will include one of the exchanges involved. The yearbook adviser requested that a big sign that said Newspaper not be put in the trophy case, but that it rather say Journalism to represent everyone, so that, and I quote, "God forbid, the yearbook ever get a trophy we could add it to the case too." In response to that foolish remark, X went down to the principal to say he wasn't sure of what he should do because the yearbook adviser had changed her mind and DIDNT WANT ANY NEWSPAPER TROPHIES TO GO IN THE CASE BECAUSE SHE WANTED IT ALL FOR YEARBOOK.

"WHAT?" She explained later that afternoon as she sat in the principal's office trying to figure out how she could kill and hide the body of learn to communicate better with her coworker.

At any rate, after many months, (It is, after all, now November) of calling and checking in with the maintenance guys, the yearbook adviser got the shelves put up for ALL OF THE MANY TROPHIES . . . please see below, what currently resides in the trophy case.