Hope I don't run out of toiletries any time soon!

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Everyone's always braggin' bout bein' vegan...

I won't lie. I spend an embarrassingly large amount of time purusing foodie blogs. I have found a line up that I enjoy. Some of the women are very witty, and all of them eat oatmeal. Due to the fiber content and it's ability to not only "clean me out" AND keep me full, I am thankful for the peer pressure to start eating more oats.

Anyway. In route to my favorite blogs I often stumble upon blogs that piss me off. These blogs are always have vegan authors who act like their little vegan poops don't stink. They probably stink more if you really think about it! These authors make everyone feel fat and barbaric. The pictures they post are typically meticulously arranged piles of spinach and carrots... something pretty for the camera. Then, in the text, they'll go on and on about how they wish there were more vegan restaurants in their town or how if they ate a bowl of ice cream they would just EXPLODE! Today I got to thinking. I'm a vegan most of the time. That's right. Full blown began 95% of the time. From Sunday until today I have not ingested a single non-vegan item. No dairy. No meat. No eggs. I haven't had so much as one spoonful of ice cream, one cookie, or one sprinkle of cheese. It is important to include that this was all completely by mistake. I in no way attempted to eat vegan and I will in no way brag about my "accomplishments". It's not that hard and you don't have to devote your life to the act of being vegan. I'm just sayin'.

You're welcome little animals of the world. You're welcome.

MY EYES ARE MELTING!!!

Kids will go to great lengths to avoid completing an arduous task such as reading a 50 word book. They will come into your classroom screaming at the top of their lungs. They will claim that their eyes are, in fact, MELTING. Now, "my eyes are melting" is just a fancy shmancy way of saying "I'm crying uncontrollably because my teacher ACTUALLY expects me to READ!" READ!? IN SCHOOL?! WITH MY EYES!? That's the worst part!!!

Perhaps this all goes back to my previous blog where I mentioned being known as "Helga the Strong German" for the majority of my life, but I have a difficult time giving pity to most children. I don't think I'm doing anyone any favors by letting my "eyes melt" right next to the kid. Three teachers will inevitably come running after the child prepared with different speeches to console him and offers to use as slick bribery. "Can I get you a tissue for your melting eyes my dear?" "If you read for me I'll give you a big ol' sticker wicker!" "Please, please, please, read to me, PLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEASE!!!" The last statement is said with intense melting eyes from a grown woman. At this point, the little 5 year old has it made. He's livin' on easy street. Everyone is mere putty in his unnecessarily sweaty/sticky jam hands. Bravo folks... see ya all back here tomorrow?

So bring it on kids. Bring the whole laundry list. Your stomach hurts? Your throat? Oh your elbow too!? Too bad! Suck it up! YOU'RE READIN'!

Rolled ma'self right into the chiropractor's office...

Throughout elementary, middle, and high school I secretly tormented any and all people who dragged a rolling backpack behind their seemingly sad and pathetic selves. I have held onto my opinions since then, snickering every time I heard one of my professors in college rollin' on down the hall. Well, much to my surprise, rolling backpacks are apparently "cool" now.

That's right. They all have them. All in different colors, with cool handles that shoot up at the touch of a button. Rolling backpacks for elementary students today are what wearing my backpack on one shoulder was back in the day. Totally COOL!

I got to thinking, and these kids have the right idea. For years I trudged down my schools' halls carrying backpacks filled to the brim with back breaking amounts of books, Lisa Frank folders with kitties on them, and notebooks I occasionally wrote "Mrs. fill in the blank" in. Today, I see a chiropractor roughly twice a week due to urgent and excruciating chronic back pain. Sure I flew over my bike's handle bars one too many times, but I'm sure the 17 years of brick bag torture devices didn't help either.

So, keep it up kiddos! You keep on rockin' and rollin'! Someday you can start a money jar entitled "money I saved by not having a jacked-up back from my backpack". Maybe you can donate to the "repair the *buzzard hump" fund.

* The area in my neck where two of my vertebra clanked together during a wreck, leaving me with one fused beauty of a mass.



CAW CAW!!!

Kombuchaholic

I won't lie to you. I am not very good at doing anything in moderation. When I decide that I want to do some yoga, I do yoga for seven days straight and then the lust fizzles out. For the Valentine holiday I purchased a bag of red and pink M&Ms for my students. The bag somehow opened on it's own and I was left to stuff myself silly with holiday goodness until there was nothing left for the kiddos. One second I hate the idea of oatmeal and the next I'm eating it for breakfast and lunch and contemplating eating it for dinner for five days straight. You get the picture.

Well recently I reunited with a beverage that I first tried in college on a particularly hippie feeling day complete with a stop at the local organic coop. G.T. Dave's Synergy Kombucha my friends. Sixteen ounces of whackadoo, over priced, ribbon like floaters of mushroom-like materials throughout the bottle, vinegar smellin', effervescent, fermented greatness. I purchased two bottles... $4.00 a pop! This is the price I am willing to pay to be allowed to drink 1% alcohol during the work day. Upon the first few sips my body begins to tingle and I convince myself that because of the probiotics and enzymes in the drink, I am safe from the thousands of illnesses that my petri dish children bring into my classroom.

Quite kids.... teachers drunk off of fermented mushrooms...

To keep from falling in my typical lack of moderation pit fall, I've decided that I am only allowed Kombucha on Friday... at the point where it has become completely necessary to get me through the last few hours of the hell that I would equate to Dante's Inferno... though I only read a few parts of that book... it would have been a more tolerable read with the help of some shroomy kombucha....

Peace, love, and kombucha.

God's Been Listening After All...

It seems to me that all of my dessert conundrums can finally be put to rest. The question between chocolate, cake, ice cream, and frosting no longer needs to be answered. I give you the Coldstone ice cream cupcake. The cup is chocolate, the center is cake, the top is ice cream, and it's all covered in icing. If I died tomorrow without ever tasting this concoction, I would die an unfulfilled person.

Good news: Japan has 6 Coldstone locations. Reason enough to still pursue my dreams.