To my everlasting chagrin, many students at my school think that the only way to solve a problem is to throw a fist or slap a face or push someone up against a locker. Admittedly, the latter has sounded strangely appealing to my own rat self on occasion…but of course, I’d never follow through. That’s the thing — some people can’t stop themselves in between the two (the wanting to and the doing).

There was another near-brawl yesterday, all because someone “talked trash” about someone else on MySpace. Bigtime important stuff, I’m sure. Besides, getting suspended for fighting just gives you extra time to work on your homework.

*blink*

Sometimes I wax philosophic to my high school choir (aka a captive audience of 89). As I look at them staring blankly back at me, surely asking themselves, “Will she never shut up?”, I’m not sure they ever agree with anything I say. Kinda reminds me of the seventies…heh. Been there, ja? Anyway, I told them the other day, “Y’all are one angry bunch.” I actually saw heads nod in agreement. Don’t get me wrong: there are great kids at my school. It’s just that sometimes they get lost in the cacophony of disrespectful, loud, undisciplined, mad-at-the-world-and-the-world’s-gonna-pay malcontents whose sole purpose is to appear as big and bad (and downright mean) as possible, cuz, you know, that’s what gets you somewhere in life.

I don’t frown on rebels, or on people who hear and follow a different drummer. On the contrary, I celebrate them. We probably wouldn’t enjoy half the wonderful things we have today in our culture (literature, music, art, scientific advancements) if there weren’t people who went against the grain. It’s the people who do so for the singular purpose of making others miserable that get on my Everlast nerve. Honestly, it would be a field research project for Helen and the Thriller (social work and counseling majors, respectively).

I know this is a hot-button topic in education, and I’m no Pollyanna, suggesting that we all just join hands and sing our way through life. I suppose that as the years go by, I’m just getting less tolerant of the less tolerant among us. Cantankerous old hag anyhow. Be careful around me; I might hafta knock you out.

*kA-BLaM*

Ya just gotta love this.

New Barbie dolls — Mad Men style. They come in 4 flavors: Joan, Roger, Don and Betty. How fantastic is this?

~

Only thing slightly uncool is the price — $75. Seventy-five bucks for a Barbie? What the world? For $30, you can get a toy that blows giant smoke rings, or a shower curtain decorated with the Periodic Table. Even fewer semolians are required to get you (“you” meaning BoomR and Helen) iPhone App Fridge Magnets.

What’s not to like?

And did you ever make a flipbook when you were a kid? I never had the talent. Still don’t. But at $3, I could just not and say I did.

The coolest toys are the ones that make you say, “Geez, wish I’d thought of that first.” My #1 pick? G.I. Joe. I envy the guy back in 1963 who said, “Hmm…there’s got to be a way I can tap into the doll market for boys….”

I heart toys. And you.

…ulterior motives are rarely as secret as we might think.

…trusting your dog is easy; people, not so much.

…the more you worry and fret about a problem, the more elusive and confusing the solution becomes.

Deep thoughts this day. But on a lighter note: if you do the math, I was just charged $10/minute for my eye doctor followup yesterday.

I am in the wrong profession.

I appreciate the emails and comments on my Sunday afternoon accident. Heh. I have a scratched cornea, and I can’t wear contact lenses for 2 weeks, but I will be fine. I am on the mend and will be good as new in no time.

XO to all, and happy Tuesday.

PS – Thumbs up to RtB fiends Bando and Adam, who will have a new baby tomorrow! Hugs!

What a dope. I bashed a door into my face yesterday (and a sharp part of my glasses into my open eye), and now I cannot stop weeping (and writhing in pain). Fantastic — time to call the opthoalsghlaskdmfalgist.

All I really want to do right now is spend the night in a giant beagle. Instead, I’m getting ready to go to the emergency room.

Help, I’m stupid and I can’t see!®

Fink out.