Thursday, July 29, 2010


A portion of the poster that used to hang over where I slept.

Looking for work has become serious business with both of us looking.
Job hunting has always been stressful to me.
The idea of selling myself feels like bragging
and some what phony.
I know, it's what you do to get a job.
Interviews are the worst.
I haven't had one yet.  I hope I have one soon,
but in education, those do not start until mid-August.
All I can do now is fill out applications and then wait for them to get around to interviews.
There are 19 school districts in the county where I live.  However, as good as that sounds in regards to opportunities, this county is huge!
It goes all the way to the coast from here.
I am not getting up and driving to the coast everyday to work.  Half hour, yes.  An hour and a half, no.

Several of the districts only accept on line applications.  I can fill them out in my jammies if I want.  But one of them... the main one where I want to work... insists that you have to go through an educational online jobs company.
It should not be a big deal, but it is.
The program is stubborn and kicks stuff back out.
You have to seriously be committed or 
you would just give up and shut the damn thing down.
That what I'm up to... frustration and filling out applications on paper, then delivering them to places.
I don't know where anything is here.
Randy is back to answering my questions about where places are by telling me that he will drive me there.
I can't really blame him.  When I get lost, I have little idea of where I am.  I say things like
"Well, there's a Chevron across the street."
As if he knows where every Chevron is.
My "day" is pretty much over.  I have two paper applications to deliver in the morning.
I was able to down load these two.
And even though these, and one I turned in there yesterday, are at the same location,  each has to have its own application identical to the other two.
So I decided to fill out everything on one except for dates, signatures and job title or number and make a master copy.
 From now on, I only have to fill in a few blanks.
I am hoping they believe this is clever and not lazy.

My blogging may be a bit spotty for a bit...
I'm seeing so much of my computer that I hardly want to look at it.
But you don't get a job by sitting on your hands.
Forgive me if I miss some of your entries.
And now, if you will excuse me,
it's time for a nice bloody mary and a BBQ rib steak.
Later I'll watch the squirrels search for the peanuts I hid for them.

Yes, I am aware that pictured above is a chicken and not a squirrel.  But I can't find my squirrel photo
and well, maybe the chicken will drop back by.

Sometimes you just gotta make do.

Wednesday, July 28, 2010


One of my pots of succulents.

Ok big topic in the news today, you can read the whole story here:

In short, this woman has gone to college, done the work required to get her degree and no doubt paid a handsome amount of money to this institution to get her degree.  The college has told her that because of her religious beliefs on the issue of homosexuality, that she must take and pass a class in sensitivity towards homosexuals or she will not be given her degree.  Other students getting this degree do not have to take this class.
I should also mention that her career choice is to be a counselor.  The college asserts that you can not be a good therapist if you can not embrace diversity.

The student says that this is her belief according to her faith and she will not change it to meet their demand.

Its a tricky issue!  Her lawyer is presenting it as a right to free speech issue.  This situation came up when the student made statements in class about her faith on the matter of homosexuality during open discussion. 

I'm not sure that it is a free speech issue.
I feel its more of a right to religious freedom.
Both are certainly basic constitutional rights.

I do see the college's point.
However, I see no reason why she cannot obtain work where she can be a Christian therapist and help people with like thinking.  After all, not everyone is gay or believes that homosexuality is the way to go.

It is also worth mentioning that her lawyer said on TV this morning that she did take the standard class on diversity and passed that already.  But she is unwilling to give up her religious belief to satisfy the demands of the college.
Likewise, on the same TV show, it came out that the hope of the college is exactly that...
It is their hope that by taking the class that she will change her mind on the morality of homosexuality.


I am unsure where I stand on this one.  I'm a fairly relaxed and open being who generally accepts anyone and anything provided it does not cause harm to another person, animal, property or thing.
You do your thing, I'll do mine and we can all sit in the same rowboat.

Therefore, it surprises me that I am on the side of the student here.  She has the right to follow her faith.
And diversity includes accepting that there are those who have beliefs that are different from mine or yours.
They should either give her the degree or give back the money she's paid for it.

What say you?

Now for life in general.
The good news is that I am still happy with Randy.
Things are going great with one exception...
The bad news is that after 15 years of loyal employment, including awards for always showing up and excellence, he no longer has a job.
Now we are both looking like crazy monkeys for work.
Do me a favor... expand those prayers and good luck wishes to include Randy as well.

"Just when things are going great,
bad news comes knocking at your garden gate."

Monday, July 26, 2010


Well, Saturday did not work out as planned... we had a minor family deal that came up.  No puppies.  :-(

Sunday was a blast.  Pun intended.  Our party of 5 wound our way out to the area designated for shooting and set up for an afternoon of banging away.  I did not do all that great with the pistols this time.  But I did get in a couple of hits.  I had much more success with the rifles... one in particular worked astonishingly well for me.  I was able to hit all the lower targets and then the one on top that flips them all back down a again  with a minor amount of misses.  Likely not skill, but a good scope.  I am having a great time learning how to use a variety of guns.  Never thought I'd say that.  (Never say never.)

It was unfortunately very hot and all the shaded areas were taken.  There we sat in the heat, beaten by the sun, each of us taking our turns.  Randy coached me and his son, J offered some suggestions as well that helped.  J was my automatic loader... he loaded the cartridges when I ran out.  I load the pistols myself.  Fun stuffs!

Or at least it was until Randy began getting sick from the sun.  I guess my years of living in California 100 plus temperatures helped me out.  That and the fact that I was wearing shorts and a light top.  He was in a dark top and jeans.  By the time we got home he felt pretty crappy, so we called off the BBQ portion of our family outing.  I went to Subway for one of their new Italian sausage melts... to split.  We had a quiet evening at home, which is not a bad thing.  After a cool shower, a change of clothes and sitting in front of the fan drinking water, he felt much better.

Up at the crap of dawn this morning... after that evening fast for me and off to the boob squisher.  She was nice.  Next in line was a chest x-ray.  I have not done that before, but the tiny doctor said so.  I obeyed.  Only the guy who does them was late, so I got to sit there in the hospital gown thingie for over half a hour waiting.  The only reading material they had were the same Time and Sports Illustrated that I have at home and have read.  I had a car book... in the parking lot and did not feel up to wearing my hospital attire outside to get it.  I did seriously consider it though.

Then upstairs to the vampire lair.  They have a number machine like the bakery.  The waiting room reminded me of the one in Beetlejuice... all manor of strange looking afflictions surrounded me.  I watched two men get into a  fight over one of them using a cell phone.  Yes, a physical fight.  That helped speed up time.  I have to give it to the receptionist at the desk... she made them sit in separate corners.  I'd have tossed them both out.  There is a big sign that says to turn off your cell phone.

I liked my vampire right off.  She was about four and a half feet tall and wide with wacky bleached blond hair and a voice like Froggie from Spanky and Our Gang.  She took five vials of my blood with a intravenous needle.  When she finished, I asked if I had any blood left.  She said a little.  So I asked if it was enough to get me home.  She said "Maybe to the stop sign."  I got a laugh out of that.  A good sense of humor should be used by anyone in the vampire profession.

Home again... I have completed the massive application required for the job I want and am waiting for one last letter of reference to arrive via email.  Then we'll be off to the office to turn it in.  I will be glad to be done with it!  Cross your fingers, say a prayer... whatever you do when you wish someone luck would be great.

How did your manic Monday go?

Friday, July 23, 2010


As it turned out, I found a teeny tiny doctor who's voice is so soft it made me want to whisper.  There I sat, an oaf with a loud voice.  Strange how such a bit of a thing can be intimidating just by being so small and quiet.

Randy went with me for moral support.  I get extremely anxious with doctors and people I don't know, so this was sort of a double whammy.  I do not have trouble meeting strangers and yakking at them in a line or about town.  But when I am going to be introduced to someone, I start getting heebie jeebies.
One of those paradoxes that form me.

However, she turned out to be a sweet person.  We waded through all the paper work involved with being a first time new patient.  My hands were shaking so badly that I may as well have filled it out in crayon.  I was happy when the visit ended and I could leave, but am feeling pretty good about this set up.

There are always things they want you to do.  I left with a new glucose meter, 7 prescriptions, and order for a full blood work up and another for a mammogram.  Grumble on that last one... nothing like putting your boobs in a vise and screwing it down as tight as it will go!  I am not a whip me thrill me kind of gal.  But out of respect for the illness that killed my mother, I do the damn things once a year.

Has anyone ever done a study to see if mammograms... the smoosh and snap kind... damage you enough to start cancer growing?

Worse yet, its at 7:20 AM on Monday morning and I get to fast the night before so that I can do blood screening right after my smashing photo session.  UGH.  On the bright side, she told me that I don't have to do another colonoscopy for nine years.  Now THAT won her points!

Being diabetic, she did that stuff too... they listen to your veins and arteries, then poke your feet to make sure that there is no nerve damage.  My feet are still ticklish, thank you very much!  That is good news.  I have to keep a record of my blood pressures and my blood sugars for a month to bring in with me when I go back for the results.  

All done now.  I took my pile of prescriptions to WalMart where the lady accepted them happily enough.  Oh and one other cool thing... the doc gave me a card that pays most of my co-pay on my diabetic supplies.  Very cool beans!  If I didn't have insurance to cover it, I would have to turn diabetes down for lack of funds.  

There you have it... and anti-climatic end to my doctor story.  Can't come up with much more mundane stuff... and the man is up from his nap now, so I'm off to the weekend of puppies and guns.  I hope you all have a safe and happy weekend.  Big grins to all.


Naturally I was in such a hurry to get out of Dumb Potter's Hell that I left some things undone.
I should have had my physical months ago, but I really don't like them and so I put it off.
I told myself that I would make that appointment and even tried once but got a busy buzz.
Then time ran out and I told myself that I would return one last time to Dumb Potter's Hell and have that visit.

So my medications ran out.  I called and got a one month reprieve... which I wasted and waited until I was down to three doses to think about getting a new doc.
I am fortunate in that I have my excellent insurance coverage until the end of Sept... then its up to God and hopefully a new employer to provide.

But you know how insurance is... you have to see one of their providers or it costs more.
Here I go, on line, looking up doctors that they allow.
I am still too new here to know where anything is.
I ask Randy, who recalls very vividly how easily I get lost.  He says... I'll drive you there and show you where it is.
"It" being anywhere I want to go.

There is the insurance approved list...
all 1,276 of them!
But wait... they have a button for a map.
I tell myself... you can do this without Randy!

So I find one close to home, I think, after viewing several maps and think I have it made.  I call and they don't take new patients.  RATS.
I whine at the woman on the phone who just turned me down.  She is sympathetic and gives me a name of a doctor she knows who will take my insurance and is taking new patients.  Cool beans.

Lucky for me there is an opening.  The doctor is a woman.  I've never had a female doctor before, but you know maybe its time.  At least she will be familiar with all the parts in a more personal way.

But then there is the whole getting lost every time I leave my driveway thing.
I google map her again.  I look at the directions and think how great it is that she is so very close to me.
No asking the man to blaze my trail this time.

But I also know me... so time for an afternoon field trip, even though my appointment isn't until tomorrow morning.  
(This is a delayed post I'm doing on Thursday for Friday... by the time you read this, I'll be happily wearing my paper dress and getting my drugs.)
I figured if I am going to get lost, I should do it with a day between me and my appointment, least I miss it wandering around swearing.
Okay... here I go!

I followed the directions to a tee.  I know where Debra Street is... I've been lost on it before, though it is only a block up from my home.
I turn out of my driveway to the right, left on Debra and head straight to the street I need.
Two blocks later I see the Road Work signs.
I approach with caution.  A lovely woman in an orange vest informs me that they are paving the road.
I do not tell her that I can see that.
She explains that the paving material is over 200 degrees and will melt my tires.
I say I don't need that and she agrees.
Can she tell me how to get across the street to the lane I need?
She is very sorry but she is from P'land and does not know the area.  I thank her and back up to go back to a different street and make a right in  the direction I know I need to go.

They should have put up a sign that says "Welcome to the land of cul-de-sucks!"
But as luck would have it, a school bus passed me as I sat pondering which tiny street might lead out of this warren.  I know that school bus drivers know where they are going and they go on main streets eventually, so I follow it and hope they don't think I'm stalking a kid.

Yay!  It worked.  I end up on the right street going the right direction.  All easy breezy from here...right?
Of course not, it's me we are talking about and my talent for driving frustration.
When I spoke to the receptionist on the phone she told me to come to Laura St. and that was where the parking lot could be found... not on the street where I was that had the actual address.

But wait... there is Laura St. and I am saved!
I pull into the driveway to a medical looking building and find instead a closed office with a pile of construction workers breaking for lunch.
They all smile at the lost lady as I turn in a circle and drive back out, waving.

Up and down Laura St. which is only a few blocks long.  How can you get lost on such a short street?
I tried every public looking building I saw.
I back track and try Laura St. on the other side of the main intersection on the street I came off of... passing the now waving-back construction workers.
Nice fellows.  I think I may have made their lunch break a little brighter.

The other side of the intersection Laura St. becomes Game Rd.  That can't be right.
Back around to make a pass by my new friends.
Everybody wave!
I decide... desperation setting in to try the one place I passed up because I thought it said 
it was a veterinary clinic.  It isn't really on Laura St. but on a small off-shoot where the street bends toward the main intersection.

Yep... its a people clinic but it does not bear the name of the doctor I will be seeing.  
With nothing better to do, I drive into the parking lot and park... intending to have a little swearing party before passing my new buddies again.
  If I had not, I would never have seen that there is another office on the back side of that building.
I got out of my car to read the teeny tiny lettering on the office door.
Inside the receptionist peers back out at me.
I smile, mostly because I am glad that my bad temper led me to the right place.
I know the question on her face will be answered in the morning when I show up for that appointment... on time and not lost, so I don't bother to explain.

I believe I may have found the reason why she has openings... she is darned hard to find.

I get back in my tiny clown car that allows me to drive in circles inside parking lots and make my way back to Laura St. and stop at the stop sign.
All my new friends are watching.
I put the car in neutral, set the hand break and get out.  I wave at them and yell
"Found it!"
I drove off to cheers, pleased that I knew how to get back home again.  I didn't get lost even once.  
In retrospect, it is very close to home and easy to get to... if you know where it is.

I am proud of myself.  I did it alone.  Randy will not have to drive me there first for a change.
When he gets home in about an hour and says
"Hey babe... what did you do with your day?"
I'm going to smile and say
"Nothing special."
But it is pretty special to be able to find my own way.

As for the new doc... now that I'm dreading.  But that's tomorrow morning.  I am ready to enjoy tonight and worry about that when it happens.
Whatever happens it will be Friday.
What will you do with your weekend?
I'm going to look at puppies!
And Sunday... "MY choice day"
We are going out to go shooting.
Watch out world, Anandagirl has a gun!
Hope I can find the target.

Thursday, July 22, 2010


There's nothing quite as exhilarating or relaxing as a good swing!

The innocence of childhood is a wonderful thing.
I was raised in a very strict household.  There were rules that had to be followed and standards to be kept.  One of the rules was my mother's 
This included the word "crap"... a word that innocent to me, offended the heck out of my mother.

Being the child I was, free spirited and determined to have things my way, I naturally was attracted to swearing the way ants are dedicated to finding sugar.

The ability to swear was one of the most attractive features at Ananda School... that and being able to smoke in class.  Its fair to say that I used that privilege to its utmost.  Perhaps even beyond that.
Swearing, like smoking is a habit hard to break.

But you know, there is something delightful about swear words.  The variety of ways that they can be coupled and the assortment of inflections 
give one a sense of satisfaction that reflects the emotion behind the statement.

We did not curtail our language all that much once we began to have children.  They were told that these were "adult" words that they could use too... once they were mature enough to use them.
As if the use of swear words is mature.
But we were young parents and inexperienced.
Not that we ever changed.  But eventually we did get to a place where we used them according to socially appropriate conditions.

Along came a big day in our family... the first day that Boo, our oldest child would begin school.
When the letter arrived inviting us to attend with our child that first day we planned to go.
He was on that day, our only child.
As it happened, his sister decided to show up in the world on that very day.  We, his parents were unavoidably busy bringing Bear into our lives.

Emergency plans took over.  A series of drop-offs and pick-ups from school were arranged in a carefully planned schedule of aunts and uncles to make sure our darling blond headed, green eyed boy with the single dimple was delivered to his teacher and reclaimed each day for his first week of school.

Thus it came to pass that MY first day of picking up my child form school arrived on Monday of his second week.
I bundled up his new sister in the stroller and walked down to meet him.  Thoughts of my pride for my child, memories of my school days as a child and hormones gone wack-o got us there to the gate with me dabbing at my eyes as I stood amid the other moms to wait.

It was hot.  Most of the other classes had let out and children swarmed out of the gates.  
My excitement grew until at last... there they were!
Perhaps 20 or so darling little sweeties
dressed in their cute little school outfits with tiny back packs sporting Rainbow Brite or G.I. Joe.
They were led out by an older woman... the teacher, who had miraculously managed to arrange them in a straight line.

Like many others, my son beamed out a big smile and waved at me.  His teacher, grabbed him by the arm and pulled him along with her.  She said something to him and his smile faded as his head dropped.
I thought:

The teacher then greeted the other mothers, one at a time and delivered their darlings.  As they dwindled, my mood began to darken.
When all others had gone, the teacher faced me, still clutching my son's arm.

"Are you the mother?"

Why yes I was.

She launched into a lecture on the importance of parent partisipation in a child's school life.
The series of adults that I had sent to bring and pick up my child was unacceptable.  It made it difficult for the school to insure my son's safety.
Our lack of interest in attending his first day of school parent and child orientation sent the wrong message to our child... that school was not important.

I'm certain that I listened to this with an open mouth.
Inside, anger began to well up and I was thinking some pretty bad words by the time she had finished.
I managed to stammer out that I was giving birth that day and felt it took priority and reminded her that I had sent a detailed schedule of the names of those who would be picking my son up.

Her response was to say that it was a shame that we could not attend.  Not a shred of forgiveness in her tone.  She then pulled my son, who had been lagging behind her forward.
She said:

"I want you to know that Boo said a word we do NOT use in school today.  I put him on the wall at recess and have told him that you will follow up at home and not allow him to watch TV for a week's time.  I hope you will not be sending others to pick him up from now on."
She then released my sullen child and began to walk away.

Now I understood that we used colorful words at home and any number of words could have come from my son's mouth that were not to be used in school, but the "F" word was the one set in my head.  So I closed my open mouth, gave my son a hug and we began to walk away.

After about a block, I asked what word he had used.
"Shut up!" he confessed sadly, ashamed.
I was astounded.  This was a very polite and well behaved child.

"No.  Everyone was yelling and she wanted them to be quiet.  So I told them to shut up."

Now that was a picture I could see in my head.
Boo was trying to help.  Under my breath I muttered
bitch.  Then I did the responsible thing and explained to him that while I did understand, he had to let the teacher take care of things like that herself and reminded him that we used the words be quiet or sssh instead.  But I was not mad.
As soon as we got home, I let him watch G. I. Joe.

The job market is looking better.  I have several leads and three applications to deliver by Monday.
All are in schools.  Very cool beans.
And best of all, I found a real live person to talk to about them who answered all of my questions without having to endure an endless choose number... menu.
I feel much better now.

Still no puppy but we are going to look at some this weekend.  

Tell me... what made you happy today?
Or say how you feel about swearing.
Or well... anything you want.

Wednesday, July 21, 2010


Def Leppard... always a pleasure to me.  Nice butt shot too. Hee hee.  Are we already at hump day?  Time is burning, burning...

When I first arrived here it seemed like time had slowed down to a lovely easy pace.  I can't believe that I have been here for a month and 11 days.  Still looking for that perfect baby pit.

Now that time has moved into hyper drive, I have begun to panic over getting a job.  I only have one check left coming around this time next month and a trifle in my savings.  Randy says he will take care of me, but you know that is a relationship killer... and I have no desire to let go of this one.

Its hot enough now that I have decided to apply in the public sector for a job that can either be a better thing or something to tide me over.  Yikes!  I do not want to leave behind my good pay, vacations up the wazoo and summers off.  But bills have to be paid and I insist on paying my share.  

When I did a blog post about traditional vs modern relationships, the point was made that in relationships it is often about money.  That made its way into conversation with the man... who told me he never wanted a problem to occur between us about money.  We would work things out.  I do not doubt his word on this.  Or at least his good intentions.  He is a very honest and calm person who is always willing to talk about things to keep our communications open and flowing well.  But better safe than sorry and really, I have my pride about keeping up my half of things.  I don't want a sugar daddy and I am not a sugar baby.

So today, I don my best outfit, which is not very good and walk among the unemployed to file through any place I think might suit my skills and beg for applications... or find out how one applies in this new crisis driven job market.  Scary stuffs!

I would not mind working on line at home.  I have a nice office space and no distractions... no children to rear while working, no social obligations, no elderly parents to tend.  But I've no clue how to find those jobs.  Anybody out there know?  I am open to suggestions.

So if not... what's up with your hump day?

Tuesday, July 20, 2010


Lime often says something that sets me off and running.  She recently did a post at her House of Lime about a good kindergarten teacher and a bad first day of kindergarten. 

I have had a series of good and bad experiences with public education.  I hesitate to say bad things... not... despite earning my living in one for 16 years.  Sheesh.
I have seen good, bad, so-so in school staff and in parents and students.

I was a so-so student who was fairly lazy.  I think that I convinced myself that as long as I passed the tests that homework was optional.  It isn't.  But I did have a knack for charming male teachers... which gave me A grades... and good recall on anything from a lecture, reading or on film... which gave me passing scores.  My parents were frequently treated to a standard speech about how bright and witty I was but not living up to my potential.  It near drove my father insane but for me that was part of the point.  I was number 5 in a line up of honor student sisters and sport star brother... I had no special talent to offer and was exhausted by the competition.

I began school on a high... put in a TAG pre-school program run by our local college.  But that soon faded.  I ended up in a group that were taught to be sight spellers and my rememberer did not work that well.   I was easily distracted by other students, the clouds in the sky and any movement by bugs.  Looking at words and trying to recall them just was not interesting to me.   I became a horrible speller.

My father used to read my papers... that I was sure were finished and circle the misspelled words... and I would have to re-write the darned things using the dictionary he provided... a giant unabridged thing that had its own stand.  I was then distracted by all the great words and it took me hours to finish things.

Tenth grade found me in the classroom of the world's most awful English teacher.  Every Wednesday we had a spelling test.  Every Wednesday she would prop her butt on Richard's desk... he was at a track meet those days, so it was empty.  She would lean over and watch what I was writing on my paper.  As soon as I misspelled a word, she would snatch up my paper... wad it up into a ball and say "Rebecca gets an F again!" and then shoot it into the waste basket.  

Sometimes I actually studied and tried and would make it through most of the list before the snatch... but eventually I began to misspell the first word on purpose, just to get the humiliation over and done with.  I complained to my dad and it did no good  until...

Richard was my friend.  Everyone knew about the way I ended my spelling lessons.  It was a source of laughter but an upset for me.  Duh.  Richard began his Wednesdays in class, but left after about ten minutes for track.  One day, he looked at me and winked.  I watched him undo the screws under his desk top and slip the nuts into his pocket that held the screws before he left as teacher wrote on the blackboard.  Hee hee.  I was not alone in watching this play out... most of the kids were very aware and I was not the only kid this teacher tormented.

Teacher grabbed her clipboard with the week's spelling list and swished over to her usual place at Richard's desk.  In those days, teachers wore dresses, nylons and girdles or panty hose.  This teacher was obese.  Very obese.  She looked very similarly to Miss Piggy.  No offense to the Muppets!

As if taunting us... she hovered close to the desk for a few words... all eyes on her.  I spelled carefully, not wanting to ruin the show by blowing it ahead of the big event.  Then she did it... hiked up one cheek and came down on the desk top.

The desk top flipped, she fell backwards... legs going out and up so that we all got a good view of her girdle and garters as she slammed down hard on her back.  The room roared with laughter and just as quickly the laughter turned silent as the red faced and very angry teacher pointed at me and threw me out of her room.

My mother was called.  She called my father.  I sat in misery outside the girl's dean's office in the waiting area for my father to arrive.  He did.  He was not happy.  He was a busy man, but never too busy to drop everything for something like this.  It was fortunate for me that the dean was on a phone call with another parent and I had time to tell my dad what happened myself.  He nodded his head and did not speak one word to me.  This frightened me greatly.

The girls dean began her speech on what had happened and my father listened quietly until she had finished.  The information she had given him was wrong, he explained... I had not loosened the bolts.  I felt both relief and guilt that Richard was outed.  He had done it for me.  But my dad rose to that fact as well and detailed for the dean what I had been experiencing in the class... with his belief that neither I or Richard should be punished.  He then demanded that I be taken out of that class and placed in a different class with a decent teacher who did not take such pleasure in humiliating her students... or he would be filing formal complaint with the school board.

He then amazed me further by taking me out to lunch and letting me hang out at the office with him for the rest of the day.  He did not punish me or even talk more about it.  When I returned to school the next day my transfer was waiting.  When I got to my new class... there was Richard who actually thanked me because my father had called his father and explained what had happened.  His parents agreed that he too should be transferred.

As it happened, I left public school the following year shortly into the school year.  That time, I came home from school and announced that I was never returning to public school again.  My father did not even ask me what happened.  He found a private school that would take me and put me in it.  He never got another call to come to a school to hear what trouble I had managed to get into.  We were both happier.

Irony rules in my life... so where did I end up working... in a public school, as most of you know.  But I can honestly say this... there are good people and bad people in education, as there is in the rest of life.  I think my father was tired of the complaints.  I did get far more complaints than any of the other kids in my family.  Way more.  But I will say this for my parents... they punished me fairly when I deserved it and they backed me up like wolverines when I was right.  They allowed me to be who I was.  That's what its all about.  I tried to do the same for my own children.  

It was hard.  I walked into my first parent teacher meeting feeling like I was the student... small and at the teacher's mercy.  It was even harder when my children attended the school where I worked and I had to go up against co-workers that I had to see every day.  But I stood behind my kids and they knew that I would.  It was a promise I had given them.  I think it made a huge difference on how they felt about themselves and what rights they had.  I hope so anyway.

So got any bad teacher stories?