That would push me right over the edge. Actually, lots of things make me ooky. Hmm.

Phink Phobias

1. This thing, of course
2. Having anything over my face, or someone covering my head with a blanket or pillow
3. Stepping in a hole and snapping my ankle (again)
4. Heights
5. Snakes

Now, this doesn’t mean I lapse into massive apoplexy or run about screaming when I encounter the above (I mean, I will fly if I absolutely have to, and I’ve ridden lots of roller coasters and that Power Tower thing at Cedar Point), but I certainly don’t enjoy experiencing any of the five. Feh, there are probably more I could add to the list.

Wait — I retract the apoplexy statement. #2 will send me into flippin’ orbit. I will take you out if you try it. And your family and your cat, too.

What makes you jittery, uncomfortable or even terrified? I covet your lists.

Is it finally Finkday? Yay!!

1. Restaurant Gets Negative Review Before it Even Opens
2. My students would love this. Thing is, they’d have to be the ones to teach the class.
3. Oh dear. This reminds me of the Thriller’s inexplicable attraction to ridiculous ghostie shows. In fact, credit them in large part with the creation of the Boot to the Head category.
4. This is your absolutely no way! article for the day.
5. Note to self for next choir tour:  Choose Diet Pepsi instead.
6. Roger Federer is awesome. And so is the opening line of this article, admittedly. HA

And that’s all I had time to read this morning. Now it’s off to the school house, where life is beautiful all the time, and I’ll be happy to see those nice young men in their clean, white coats.

Sometimes, you’re just grumpy. But I say that’s all right, because I have a theory (and because I am feeling a mite tetchy this morning meself).

It’s the yin-and-yang thing. Balance. The black with the white; the rain with the sun. Inner feng shui. But is it fair to share it with others? Do your colleagues and family need to be mandatory cast members in your grumptacular fussfest?

The Truth Is: maybe.

I think a bad mood needs to be shared occasionally with trusted friends/family. I never underestimate the necessity of commiseration. However, being humans, we struggle to avoid routinely mucking things up, and the result is often *two* crabby people. I try to put my best face forward in the classroom every day, regardless of my mood. Ninety-nine percent of the time, my students never know I’m having a meltdown or that I’m in a black mood. The other one percent…well, there’s that whole struggling to not muck things up thing.

The other angle I thought of has to do with just wanting to be mad about something. It’s the ultimate personal change of pace. I can’t say I know anyone who is constantly chirpy. I know people who fake it, but eventually the real color bleeds through.

So I say we look at it as a pressure valve, and it’s OK to hold it down once in awhile and release all the pent-up steam. Besides, it’ll make the bright side look that much better when you actually get back to normal. But of course, that presupposes you know what normal is, and that just doesn’t happen in my neighborhood…

Without opening up a huge, protracted discussion on food ethics or government policy (because, as I am wont to say, harsh words are often spoken with no minds being changed), something must be done about the deplorable conditions surrounding egg production in this country. Why are these egg “farms” even allowed to exist? They should be closed down for the simple reason that it is unconscionable to put an animal in an eight-and-a-half by eleven-inch space and never allow it to move.

If someone did this to a dog or cat, he would be fined and perhaps jailed. But the torture of these poor hens is allowed to go on with impunity. (I won’t provide links to the hidden-camera revelations — it’s too sickening.)  Makes about as much sense as television commercials showing almost-naked women in Victoria’s Secret commercials, but never showing a single person take a drink in a beer ad. Ridiculous and stupid.

It’s likely useless to argue the point, and I know there are thousands of atrocities (against animals AND humans) being perpetrated every day. Choose your cause, and there’ll be evidence to support you. I’m just zeroing in on this particular travesty this day. It’s a shameful testimony to the greed for which our country and its industries are becoming infamous. Blah.

Fink, having fruit and yogurt for breakfast

Christina Hendricks (on the left, in the gorgeous taupe gown) was lovely, as usual. I for one recognize her acting talent as well as the fact that she is a great physical role model for “regular” women. No worries, Chrissy.

My other favorite series (HBO’s True Blood) was nominated but didn’t win. It’s a rather goofy show, but cool that a saga about vampires and werewolves and other silly creatures has captured the entertainment world’s attention. I also like nominee Breaking Bad, but I never get to watch it for some reason. I’ve settled for the cheapskate recap vids on AMC’s site.

Most deserving was Al Pacino, for his role as Jack Kevorkian. It was by far his creepiest  (I’ve seen every Pacino movie since Panic in Needle Park and Serpico), and right up there with Michael Corleone on the believability scale. Home run.

Then there’s Glee. We won’t talk about that this morning — I’m in a hurry.

RF, still looking for the happy in Mondays

Image credit: Reuters

Notice I didn’t say anything about not embarrassing my children in blog posts.

I read an article yesterday about people over 50 getting into the whole social networking scene. This is news? I guess I’m among the exceptions: the people who’ve “been on the Internet” since around 1993-94, when brands like Mosaic, Netscape and Usenet were cutting-edge. When nearly *everyone’s* connection to the Internet sounded like this. So I take exception to the over-50 crowd’s techno savvy being viewed as such an anomaly. Dang kids anyhow.

Somebody’s car alarm is going off. Eight thirty on a Sunday morning, and there’s a car alarm going off at a house down the street. I hope it isn’t Lars and Helen’s…haha

Anyway, I saw a funny feature on Time‘s site. Why Facebook Is For Old Fogies lists ten reasons. Among them:

We’re not bitter about high school anymore. You’re probably still hung up on any number of petty slights, but when that person who used to call us that thing we’re not going to mention here, because it really stuck, asks us to be friends on Facebook, we happily friend that person. Because we’re all grown up now. We’re bigger than that. Or some of us are, anyway. We’re in therapy, and it’s going really well. These are just broad generalizations.

How true, heh. Some of the reasons don’t apply, but others hit home. Speaking of hitting home, I wonder how many teenage readers identify with this website. I thought it was funny, but I wouldn’t have 35 years ago, you know? Then again, I’m an old fogie who’s just now discovered she can “get on that Facebook page.”

There goes that car alarm for the third time. I’ll be back later. Must go find the Louisville Slugger and take a walk.

As the summer of 2010 comes to an official close with the first week of school now in the books, there is much to ponder. As fall approaches (signified by my sitting here in my parlor with a sweater on), I think it’s safe to say that the summer of 2010 was likely the best, busiest, and most revealing of my life. Behold:

1. I took an amazing vacation with the Thriller (with more to come next year, yay).
2. Mavis and I added a couple of very special people to our family. More on that at a later date.
3. Jake and Justin spent lots of time with us — that alone could make an awesome highlight film.
4. For the first time in my career, I did not spend several days a week at school during the summer.
5. Spent some fabulous time with BFF Kay and Bob.

Yet, some things remain undone and unattended, as is the norm around here. Not enough time or discipline or opportunity or whatever to get thus-and-so taken care of.

This summer, I didn’t:

1. get rid of those nasty 20 lbs.
2. redecorate my classroom
3. get all my photos arranged in albums
4. do my annual eBay summerummage sale
5. take boxes and boxes of stuff to Goodwill
6. choreograph a single routine for Singin’ in the Rain
7. plant a garden (not that I would have been home to see flowers and tend veggies)

But honestly. If I analyze the two lists, what I didn’t do fades into insignificance compared to what I did, ja? So does this mean all is well in my world, and everything is good?

Yep.

Big mistake.

Now I’m running completely late — as if that doesn’t happen often enough anyway. But man, did I ever nail the Beatles Opening Lyrics quiz. Still, I’m just sayin…if you do not go there, you stand a good chance of getting a timely start to your day. If you go there, don’t say I didn’t warn you.

Thanks, Ross. Sheesh…

Happy Finkday! It’s a good day (unless you’re Adam, Bando or Rae, who get to schlep bands to football games tonight).

That got me thinking about your password. According to John Pozadzides at Lifehacker, some people wouldn’t have to think too long to guess it. Says John:

Adding just one capital letter and one asterisk would change the processing time for an 8 character password from 2.4 days to 2.1 centuries.”

Food for thought indeed.

My passwords aren’t even in English, and they have multiple cases, characters (when allowed) and numbers. So far — knock on wood — I’ve never been hacked. That doesn’t mean the kool kiddies won’t keep trying, though, so complicate and change your passwords often. Your PSA for today, because the Fink hearts you all.

Today is not the weekend. We weep.

1. No matter who graduates, someone is always there to step up to the plate and continue the tradition. That is a good thing in choral music.
2. Ninety-nine percent of the students on my Facebook friend list hated the first day of school. Puzzling, since the first day is always the easiest day.
3. Smaller can mean better (70 in HS choir this year — 20 fewer than years past).
4. The thought of Stoney and I getting together tomorrow to face the gargantuan task of devising a rehearsal schedule for the next three months is making me feel a bit sickly.
5. We need a follow spot operator. Any ideas?
6. For the first time in my career, I didn’t spend the entire week before school actually at school. Does this mean I have a life?

I wonder many things this day.

Yikes — 6 a.m. and me sitting here like I got nothing to do. Hey, it’s Welmsday — we’re halfway to the weekend. Hang in there, everybunny.

FO

It’s not the teaching that wears me out; I love directing choirs. Rather, it’s the shows and the NYC tours and the positively insane rehearsal schedules that keep me away from my family, my fiends, my Nook, and more than five hours of sleep per night. Yet…I’m not sure I could keep my present job and not do shows. There might be lynchings.

Anyway. I think I’d be in a chirpier mood had Rousseau not decided he absolutely had to go outside at 4:00 this morning. Does he choose the Thriller’s side of the bed to nuzzle with his cold, wet snout? NooOoOOoOOOOoooo

Hey, here’s something that will blow your mind, courtesy of my awesome fiend Harold (Suzanne’s handsome husband). Harold posted a link on his Facebook wall to some fantastic color photographs from Russia and the surrounding countryside. What’s so fantastic about that? you ask. Answer: they were taken between 1909 and 1912. Unbelievable. Check it out.

Welp, off I go. Make the coffee, make the lunch, take the shower, drive the Finkmobile, start the school year. Allons! Hope your week got off to a great start.

FO

Mavis and I spent a couple of days with some very sweet people. The best in the world, actually. Don’t you love it when that happens? Indescribable…

The Fink, Mavis, Bobby and his beautiful wife Kathy

~

Suffice it to say that Bobby and Kathy made our weekend, our month, our year, our decade…

<3

Hmmm. I guess I should put the hotel in the GPS, ja? Pictures forthcoming. Looking forward to a fun couple of days, cuz you know, school starts next week. Yippy.

FO

We finalized all the details for our National Parks Odyssey next year, and I must say we’re already excited about leaving. We also have to start saving money again…like, now. Of course, one helpful advantage is saving $25 at every fee gate, thanks to the Thriller’s NP Access Pass, issued to him by the VA, which covers all entrance fees to any venue operated by the Bureau of Land Management, Bureau of Reclamation, Fish & Wildlife Service, US Forest Service, and the National Park Service. That pretty much covers everywhere that qualifies as a National Park or National Monument. Home run.

Behold the completed itinerary (northern trek is first — visiting Detroit, then family & fiends in Wisconsin):

As Jan said on Facebook, it is funny that we’re planning this just as the school year starts. Truthfully, I think it was important to plan it now; if the year shapes up like I think it might, we won’t have the gray matter to pull it off in May.

Ah, contract day. Bloodborne pathogens video, signing up for the annual bloodletting courtesy of the teacher union (you pay if you join and you pay if you don’t), the annual Power Point presentation from the superintendent, faculty meetings (and when you’re a specialist, you get to attend more than one), blah. It’s all delightful, and part of Playing the Game.

But truly exciting? Tomorrow, Mavis and I leave for the Thelma and Louise Odyssey to Bowling Green, Kentucky for the weekend. Awesome. Going to meet some reeeeeeally special people. Great fun will be had. Photos will be published. Lives will be changed. Food will be eaten.

Is it Finkday yet? Why yes, I believe it is.

The KFC Skinwich. No chicken--just the skin (and cheese and bacon). Click to examine the yummy horkiness.

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If you start looking here, you won’t get anything done today. It’s like rubbernecking at a car accident. You’re welcome.

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Seriously, couldn’t Vanity Fair find a decent photographer? She looks like the girl from The Ring.

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Yep, we all know that our youth are flagging the ACT in increasingly alarming numbers. Proof: from the article itself, the ACT’s Education Division president and COO called the findings “very appalling.” Kind of like your friend becoming “very pregnant” or classifying a painting as “very unique.” Yyyyyep.

*feeling forehead* Am I snarky today? I don’t feel like myself….