For centuries mankind has struggled with one overwhelming question. "What is the meaning of life?" While I don't have the answer, that is a question that I do want you to explore. This question has crossed my twice in the last week. Though I've thought about it plenty of times before, the question really hit me hard today.
I was sitting in a district wide teacher's meeting with our district superintendent. The superintendent was talking about teaching without fear and with purpose. That's when he said, " You should be willing to die for this [teaching]. If you aren't willing to die for this, maybe you should consider something that you are willing to die for."
That really struck a nerve because just a week earlier I heard the actor Will Smith say, "What makes me good at this job is not how smart I am or how well I act. What makes me good is that I am willing to die for every role that I play."
How many living, human beings, on earth right now, can say they have found a purpose that they are willing to die for? How many living human beings can say they are living out their purpose daily?
I believe that it is within man's innate being to long for purpose, for a sense of belonging. This is more commonly known as the pursuit of happiness. Unfortunately for many of us (myself included) we trade in our pursuit of happiness, for instant gratification. Media and peer pressure persuades us to think that we should want the "norm". In America, that norm is this nice beautiful house, on a quiet street, with plenty of money to support your three kids and beautiful wife.
But what if your purpose doesn't fit "the norm"? What then?
Before I give you my opinion I want you to think about something. Have you ever given a gift? Let's say at Christmas or a birthday. Remember how much time you spent in line on Black Friday just to get your child or loved one that special gift? Think about their reaction when they opened that present. Now remember how you felt when they absolutely loved that present YOU gave them?
What if you could have the feeling daily? What if you could give a gift daily? I believe God has placed each one of us on the planet to give a gift.... DAILY. We all have our special purpose. We have needs that others can fulfill and they have needs we can fulfill. So what if it's not lucrative? So what if it's dangerous? So what? You have a purpose. And if you think about it, deep down inside you have a purpose that you are willing to die for. The question remains: Are you willing to give up "the norm"? Is the sacrifice really worth it?
"Greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends." John 15:13
Some of the most admired people throughout the history of the world went through suffering or death for what they believe in. Martin Luther King Jr., Malcom X, United States Army, Rosa Parks, Nelson Mandela, Abraham Lincoln, Jesus Christ are some of the few greats. There millions others who have done the same. You can make it "millions and one".
I encourage you, don't live just to die. Live to love. Live with purpose. Live to give a gift.
-Dirty Lens
Monday, August 09, 2010
Tuesday, August 03, 2010
DonorsChoose.org
Well another school year is starting back up. This year, much like the last three years, I went out and bought school supplies for every student that I could possibly have in my classroom. Usually, I despise going school shopping because I hate fighting with soccer moms to get the last purple folder right before school starts. However, this year my wife insisted that I get everything on sale which required me to shop earlier than the last minute. Even with all the sales, I nearly spent $100 just on school supplies for my students.
Some of you may be thinking, “why can’t the students buy their own school supplies?” What some of you may not know is that I teach in the heart of the inner-city. Right smack dab downtown. 82% of the students in our school district live below the poverty level. The state average is somewhere around 35%.
The first day of school for these students isn’t like what I remember as a kid. They don’t come with their new school shoes, flashy backpack, new school clothes, and pride in what their parents bought them for lunch. Many of my students come with a school uniform shirt that was given to them by either a charity or an older sibling. That’s it.
I came back home devastated that I ended up spending that much money and still don’t have the materials to make my classroom theme. That’s when I decided that I need to apply to Donorschoose.org. This is an organization that allows teachers to place their school’s needs online and donors decide to give to these teachers to help fulfill their goal. But as I sat here, trying to plead my students’ case, I got stuck on two words: Donors choose.
Daily, I am frustrated with my students’ situations. How come they don’t get to choose? Did my fifth grader choose to get jumped after school because his dad is in a gang? Did my student choose to have a learning disability because she was born addicted to cocaine? Did my student choose to deal drugs and steal from the local ministry because neither of his guardians have a job and that’s the only way he could eat?
Donors choose. I remember going school shopping with all three of my siblings and $100 in my pocket. My parents gave us the choice pick our own clothes, shoes, and backpack. I remember being so happy on school shopping day. But why? How did I get this choice and my students don’t? What is so special about me that God blessed me with a choice?
If given the choice, my student would choose to be with her dad that’s in jail for robbing a gas station for food. My student would choose to be with her sisters that were moved to foster homes by Child Protective Services. My student would choose to learn without being distracted by thoughts of his parents beating him when he got home.
I get a choice to give a choice. We get a choice to give a choice. I can give a student a choice by providing the best education I can to each student. You can give a student a choice by giving. Please give to Donorschoose.org. (This is a link to my page.) Whether it’s for my classroom or another classroom, give these students the opportunity to live a life that they get to choose.
-Dirty Lenses
(This post is also featured on Permanently At Lunch. Go check it out!)
Some of you may be thinking, “why can’t the students buy their own school supplies?” What some of you may not know is that I teach in the heart of the inner-city. Right smack dab downtown. 82% of the students in our school district live below the poverty level. The state average is somewhere around 35%.
The first day of school for these students isn’t like what I remember as a kid. They don’t come with their new school shoes, flashy backpack, new school clothes, and pride in what their parents bought them for lunch. Many of my students come with a school uniform shirt that was given to them by either a charity or an older sibling. That’s it.
I came back home devastated that I ended up spending that much money and still don’t have the materials to make my classroom theme. That’s when I decided that I need to apply to Donorschoose.org. This is an organization that allows teachers to place their school’s needs online and donors decide to give to these teachers to help fulfill their goal. But as I sat here, trying to plead my students’ case, I got stuck on two words: Donors choose.
Daily, I am frustrated with my students’ situations. How come they don’t get to choose? Did my fifth grader choose to get jumped after school because his dad is in a gang? Did my student choose to have a learning disability because she was born addicted to cocaine? Did my student choose to deal drugs and steal from the local ministry because neither of his guardians have a job and that’s the only way he could eat?
Donors choose. I remember going school shopping with all three of my siblings and $100 in my pocket. My parents gave us the choice pick our own clothes, shoes, and backpack. I remember being so happy on school shopping day. But why? How did I get this choice and my students don’t? What is so special about me that God blessed me with a choice?
If given the choice, my student would choose to be with her dad that’s in jail for robbing a gas station for food. My student would choose to be with her sisters that were moved to foster homes by Child Protective Services. My student would choose to learn without being distracted by thoughts of his parents beating him when he got home.
I get a choice to give a choice. We get a choice to give a choice. I can give a student a choice by providing the best education I can to each student. You can give a student a choice by giving. Please give to Donorschoose.org. (This is a link to my page.) Whether it’s for my classroom or another classroom, give these students the opportunity to live a life that they get to choose.
-Dirty Lenses
(This post is also featured on Permanently At Lunch. Go check it out!)
Monday, August 02, 2010
The Adventures of Neurotic Nariz and Nincompoop Nala
Having dogs is like having kids: they are fun until they poop. In my case I have two dogs. Nariz and Nala.
Nariz is a one and a half year old Border Collie/who knows what mix. Because of her thin, long whiskers and black beady eyeballs, I'm convinced that the "who knows what" part is a giant rat. Nariz is a very energetic, very smart dog. She knows over 70 commands and phrases. Her favorite pastime is retrieving a tennis ball. She will play and play and play and play. When we first started teaching her "fetch", I was convinced that she was addicted to the rubber chemicals in the ball. She would go through withdrawal symptoms (drooling while staring at that ball) if we didn't throw it at least 8 hours a day. Concerned that we would have to take my dog to a drug rehabilitation center, I did some research about Border Collies. It is reported that they will literally play until they die. So she's not addicted to tennis balls, she's just an adrenaline junkie.
Nala is an 8 month old Golden retriever/Australian Shepard mix. Nala's favorite pastime is sleeping, eating, eating bugs, eating dirt, eating poison ivy, eating Nariz's fur, oh and barking at the doorbell. Nala eats so much that even though she is half Nariz's age she is almost twice her size. She doesn't fit into the category of "obese". She's what I like to call "Woah-bese". So fat all you can say is "woah"
Those are my girls. But sometimes they drive me crazy. Especially when Nala does her "potty dance" in front of the door when she has to go out. Or when Nariz whines because you haven't fulfilled her dream of her dying with a tennis ball in her mouth. My mom used to say, when my siblings and me were driving her crazy, "God what did I do to deserve this?"
God, can a dog be addicted to food or drugs? Because I think I have a case of both.
God, could a dog dig to China if we let it? Because I'm convinced that Nala is trying to leave us.
God, is it really that fun to chase each other around my table in the backyard? Or do the dogs just like running bare ovals shapes in the middle of yard?
God, do dogs poop for revenge? What did me or my wife's purse ever do to them?
Warning: Real Life Poop Picture!
God, is my dog physically attracted to me? Because every time my wife gets out of the bed, the dog jumps in her spot and then growls at her when my wife says, "Get down."
God, I'm afraid my dog might bite me in my sleep because I made her take a bath.
God, Thanks. I didn't think those shoes were worth 50 bucks either.
God thanks for "man's best friend"....
_Dirty Lenses
Nariz is a one and a half year old Border Collie/who knows what mix. Because of her thin, long whiskers and black beady eyeballs, I'm convinced that the "who knows what" part is a giant rat. Nariz is a very energetic, very smart dog. She knows over 70 commands and phrases. Her favorite pastime is retrieving a tennis ball. She will play and play and play and play. When we first started teaching her "fetch", I was convinced that she was addicted to the rubber chemicals in the ball. She would go through withdrawal symptoms (drooling while staring at that ball) if we didn't throw it at least 8 hours a day. Concerned that we would have to take my dog to a drug rehabilitation center, I did some research about Border Collies. It is reported that they will literally play until they die. So she's not addicted to tennis balls, she's just an adrenaline junkie.Nala is an 8 month old Golden retriever/Australian Shepard mix. Nala's favorite pastime is sleeping, eating, eating bugs, eating dirt, eating poison ivy, eating Nariz's fur, oh and barking at the doorbell. Nala eats so much that even though she is half Nariz's age she is almost twice her size. She doesn't fit into the category of "obese". She's what I like to call "Woah-bese". So fat all you can say is "woah"
Those are my girls. But sometimes they drive me crazy. Especially when Nala does her "potty dance" in front of the door when she has to go out. Or when Nariz whines because you haven't fulfilled her dream of her dying with a tennis ball in her mouth. My mom used to say, when my siblings and me were driving her crazy, "God what did I do to deserve this?"
Well now I almost understand what she's going through. And I have a few "God questions" myself.
God, could a dog dig to China if we let it? Because I'm convinced that Nala is trying to leave us.
God, is it really that fun to chase each other around my table in the backyard? Or do the dogs just like running bare ovals shapes in the middle of yard?
God, do dogs poop for revenge? What did me or my wife's purse ever do to them?
Warning: Real Life Poop Picture!
God, is my dog physically attracted to me? Because every time my wife gets out of the bed, the dog jumps in her spot and then growls at her when my wife says, "Get down."
God, I'm afraid my dog might bite me in my sleep because I made her take a bath.
God, Thanks. I didn't think those shoes were worth 50 bucks either.
God thanks for "man's best friend"....
_Dirty Lenses
Sunday, August 01, 2010
Youtube Famous!
Have you ever played the Youtube game? Probably not. I made it up. Okay, here's how you play.
Just recently, I was watching one of my favorite Youtube shows, Shaycarl and the Shaytards. The main character, Shay Carl said something very interesting:
"Thanks for so many people watching. I've quit my job for this. This is so great. I get to spend time with my family and get paid for it."
What? I wasn't sure if I heard that right. Did he say he gets paid? I quickly went to Google and typed in "Can you get paid on Youtube?" Good ol' Jeeves from AskJeeves.com came through. He said, if you get enough views per posting, Youtube will email you and ask if you want to be a part of their partnership. They are willing to pay you $2.50 per 1,000 views.
Craziness right? I knew exactly what I had to do. I thought my readers should be the first to know. I am going to be Youtube famous!!! Well, I thought I was. That was until I did a little bit of research.
Before I could be famous, I needed material.
Music. Nope. I can't sing. Well I guess I could sing, but bad singers usually get made fun of on Youtube. If someone made fun of me.. I might cry.
Comedy. Nope. I'm not going to lie. I'm not that funny. The times when people laugh at my jokes is when I'm not trying to be funny at all. Maybe they aren't laughing at my jokes.
Vlogging. I could walk around with a camera in my face all day. But it's no fun watching someone learn how to modify their cell phone so they could play more games. (I never claimed to be cool.)
After looking at all of the categories, I thought I reached a dead end. Until I clicked on the "Top Videos" section. HAVE YOU SEEN THOSE VIDEOS? Charlie bit me? Really? Does that really deserve 215 million views?
How about the Sneezing Panda? 71 million views. How about Fred goes swimming? 44 million views!
You want to know something else crazy about Fred? You should Ask Jeeves "who is this highest grossing youtuber?" Yup you guessed it. Fred. It is reported that he grossed over $704,000 from his first season of Youtube alone! This is his 4th season! And he's only a teenager.
Now my confidence is renewed. I think I might be pretty good recording 4 minutes of complete randomness and posting it on Youtube. Maybe I could put my camera on night-vision so you can see how my wife sleeps at night. No wait, she doesn't even have to be asleep. She's even crazier when she's awake. If this 15 year old can walk around and scream with some weird voice and get paid for it... my options are limitless.
What do you guys think? Give me some Youtube ideas. I'm willing to try anything... almost anything.
Wish me luck. This time next year, I will be Youtube famous!
- First you go to www.youtube.com (duh).
- In the search menu, type in any subject you want ie:) fainting goats.
- Click on the video you want to watch.
- When the video is done, DO NOT type in a new topic. You have to click on a related video that is listed on the side (ie: narcoleptic dog).
- Continue the cycle and watch videos until your eyes bleed.
Just recently, I was watching one of my favorite Youtube shows, Shaycarl and the Shaytards. The main character, Shay Carl said something very interesting:
"Thanks for so many people watching. I've quit my job for this. This is so great. I get to spend time with my family and get paid for it."
What? I wasn't sure if I heard that right. Did he say he gets paid? I quickly went to Google and typed in "Can you get paid on Youtube?" Good ol' Jeeves from AskJeeves.com came through. He said, if you get enough views per posting, Youtube will email you and ask if you want to be a part of their partnership. They are willing to pay you $2.50 per 1,000 views.
Craziness right? I knew exactly what I had to do. I thought my readers should be the first to know. I am going to be Youtube famous!!! Well, I thought I was. That was until I did a little bit of research.
Before I could be famous, I needed material.
Music. Nope. I can't sing. Well I guess I could sing, but bad singers usually get made fun of on Youtube. If someone made fun of me.. I might cry.
Comedy. Nope. I'm not going to lie. I'm not that funny. The times when people laugh at my jokes is when I'm not trying to be funny at all. Maybe they aren't laughing at my jokes.
Vlogging. I could walk around with a camera in my face all day. But it's no fun watching someone learn how to modify their cell phone so they could play more games. (I never claimed to be cool.)
After looking at all of the categories, I thought I reached a dead end. Until I clicked on the "Top Videos" section. HAVE YOU SEEN THOSE VIDEOS? Charlie bit me? Really? Does that really deserve 215 million views?
How about the Sneezing Panda? 71 million views. How about Fred goes swimming? 44 million views!
You want to know something else crazy about Fred? You should Ask Jeeves "who is this highest grossing youtuber?" Yup you guessed it. Fred. It is reported that he grossed over $704,000 from his first season of Youtube alone! This is his 4th season! And he's only a teenager.
Now my confidence is renewed. I think I might be pretty good recording 4 minutes of complete randomness and posting it on Youtube. Maybe I could put my camera on night-vision so you can see how my wife sleeps at night. No wait, she doesn't even have to be asleep. She's even crazier when she's awake. If this 15 year old can walk around and scream with some weird voice and get paid for it... my options are limitless.
What do you guys think? Give me some Youtube ideas. I'm willing to try anything... almost anything.
Wish me luck. This time next year, I will be Youtube famous!
Thursday, July 29, 2010
Dentist = Delightful
As all seven of you may know, my wife recently posted her blog about her experience at the dentist. The unfortunate part about the blog is that she spent the whole time discussing how dreadful the dentist is. Well, I beg to differ. Some of us actually like going to the dentist. For example... me. I like to see the dentist as a good movie. There are plenty of exciting things that happen at the dentist. Today was my dentist appointment. I was scheduled to get two wisdom teeth pulled.
No. No. Please don't wince and grimace. It was a delightful time.
When I first stepped into the operating room, I must admit I was a little nervous. The nurse lead me to a chair that had about ten long Velcro straps. While being strapped in, I noticed a full I.V. bag which the nurse called "the juice" hanging from the ceiling. Strapped in, my pulse began to race a little when I saw the doctor walk in with a needle as long as my arm.
"You're not one those guys that cries at the sight of a needle are you?"
I lied, "Nope"
Expecting them to jam this needle into my arm, I was surprised when the nurse took the tenth strap and strapped my head to the headrest. In my head I panicked thinking, 'This is lethal injection!'
Then the nurse's gentle voice said, "This is just a little laughing gas. Continue to breath normally."
That's when the movie started. I know, perfect timing right? The nurse placed the nozzle over my nose as the doctor began rubbing alcohol on my arm. I felt a slight sting in my arm and the doctor said, "Congrats, you broke my 100th-try streak of finding a vein on the first try."
This movie was great! Not only was the movie hilarious.. I win stuff too! I laughed out loud smiling at the doctor as he walked over to my other arm with a separate needle. He turned and looked me in the eyes screaming kind of loud like I was deaf or something. I think there was something wrong with the sound of the movie because he was talking in this slow, really deep voice.
" Aarrreee yoouu stilllll wittthhh uusss?" But I couldn't respond, the evil nurse was standing right behind him with an even bigger needle in her hand. I thought for sure she was going to stab him with it, but then the screen went blurry.
Note to readers: If you go to a dentist with a movie theater like mine, ask if their projector works.
For the next hour or so I spent the rest of the time wondering how the doctor's eyes had so many veins. I wondered if one vein got into a fight with another vein because they crowded each other's space.
Apparently, the doctor thought I was a little into the vein fight scene, because I could vaguely hear him in the background saying, "Keep your mouth open, pal. We're almost done. Julie, keep his head still." I was mad that the doctor ruined the movie. What can I say? When I watch fighting movies, I really get into them and pretend to be Jackie Chan. Sorry Julie.
The procedure was over and I was sitting in my chair furious that I didn't get to see the end of the movie. Then my wife walked in. "Haha, You look funny" (read: Honey you are to the most handsome man I've ever seen. )
My response, "How would like it if someone called YOU ugly?!" (read: Babe, you are extremely beautiful.)
The nurse probably noticed my shocked reaction to her as she helped me out of operating chair to the wheelchair. I couldn't believe she was strong enough to carry me with no struggle or strain. I thought about moving my feet, but what was the point? I enjoyed the ride.
As Julie wheeled me to the car, I noticed the doctor gave my wife my bag of prizes for going to the dentist.
I was really hoping it was a toothbrush or a sticker with a smiling tooth on it. Barely able to contain my excitement, I called to my wife: "Are those my teeth?"
Apparently, the dentist doesn't let adults cash in their teeth to the tooth fairy. Instead, he cashes them in and charges you 200 bucks for it. I think it's for shipping and handling... to make sure the tooth fairy gets it.
The good news is he gave me two bottles of this "candy for adults". I took some before I started typing this blog. This things are great!
I love the deenttlopippiupioupppp
No. No. Please don't wince and grimace. It was a delightful time.
When I first stepped into the operating room, I must admit I was a little nervous. The nurse lead me to a chair that had about ten long Velcro straps. While being strapped in, I noticed a full I.V. bag which the nurse called "the juice" hanging from the ceiling. Strapped in, my pulse began to race a little when I saw the doctor walk in with a needle as long as my arm.
"You're not one those guys that cries at the sight of a needle are you?"
I lied, "Nope"
Expecting them to jam this needle into my arm, I was surprised when the nurse took the tenth strap and strapped my head to the headrest. In my head I panicked thinking, 'This is lethal injection!'
Then the nurse's gentle voice said, "This is just a little laughing gas. Continue to breath normally."
That's when the movie started. I know, perfect timing right? The nurse placed the nozzle over my nose as the doctor began rubbing alcohol on my arm. I felt a slight sting in my arm and the doctor said, "Congrats, you broke my 100th-try streak of finding a vein on the first try."
This movie was great! Not only was the movie hilarious.. I win stuff too! I laughed out loud smiling at the doctor as he walked over to my other arm with a separate needle. He turned and looked me in the eyes screaming kind of loud like I was deaf or something. I think there was something wrong with the sound of the movie because he was talking in this slow, really deep voice.
" Aarrreee yoouu stilllll wittthhh uusss?" But I couldn't respond, the evil nurse was standing right behind him with an even bigger needle in her hand. I thought for sure she was going to stab him with it, but then the screen went blurry.
Note to readers: If you go to a dentist with a movie theater like mine, ask if their projector works.
For the next hour or so I spent the rest of the time wondering how the doctor's eyes had so many veins. I wondered if one vein got into a fight with another vein because they crowded each other's space.
Apparently, the doctor thought I was a little into the vein fight scene, because I could vaguely hear him in the background saying, "Keep your mouth open, pal. We're almost done. Julie, keep his head still." I was mad that the doctor ruined the movie. What can I say? When I watch fighting movies, I really get into them and pretend to be Jackie Chan. Sorry Julie.
The procedure was over and I was sitting in my chair furious that I didn't get to see the end of the movie. Then my wife walked in. "Haha, You look funny" (read: Honey you are to the most handsome man I've ever seen. )
My response, "How would like it if someone called YOU ugly?!" (read: Babe, you are extremely beautiful.)
The nurse probably noticed my shocked reaction to her as she helped me out of operating chair to the wheelchair. I couldn't believe she was strong enough to carry me with no struggle or strain. I thought about moving my feet, but what was the point? I enjoyed the ride.
As Julie wheeled me to the car, I noticed the doctor gave my wife my bag of prizes for going to the dentist.
I was really hoping it was a toothbrush or a sticker with a smiling tooth on it. Barely able to contain my excitement, I called to my wife: "Are those my teeth?"
Apparently, the dentist doesn't let adults cash in their teeth to the tooth fairy. Instead, he cashes them in and charges you 200 bucks for it. I think it's for shipping and handling... to make sure the tooth fairy gets it.
The good news is he gave me two bottles of this "candy for adults". I took some before I started typing this blog. This things are great!
I love the deenttlopippiupioupppp
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Unrelated thoughts of my erratic brain
I've come to grips with my 7 followers compared to my wife's 18. So I figure if you can't beat 'em, join 'em.
But before you start reading her blog, maybe you should know how erratic she really is. Here are a few random quotes and scenarios that I've captured in the past week. Enjoy.
"Do you think it's possible to have one armpit smell worse than the other? Because I'm pretty sure my right armpit smells worse than my left."
"The little 12 year old girls watching this show will vote for the little 12 year old singer because I was 12 once."
"This one time at camp I had this crush on a camp counselor. I was 13 and he was 21. I thought he was going to wait for me."
"Eric, from CSI is hot. Don't you think so, honey?"
"This dog is so fat I can barely pick her up. Do you think she looks anorexic?"
"I'm probably going to have to wear a diaper when I'm pregnant. Because I have a really small bladder. And sometimes I pee a little bit already. Just imagine when I'm pregnant."
"Will you smell my armpit? I'm pretty sure it stinks"
"That dog farted and again and it smells like fish. Will you wash that dog's butt?"
**************************
Sometimes she talks in her sleep.. and this is what I wake up to.
"SCARED, SCARED, SCARED, SCARED"
"OH MY GOODNESS! OH MY GOODNESS! I THINK I JUST SCARED MYSELF AWAKE!"
"OOOOOOOUUUUUUCCCCCHHHH MY EYE!!" (that was me screaming when she punched me in the eye while she was asleep. Funny thing is... she didn't even wake up)
And this one is my all time favorite.
Elizabeth: Will you still love me even if I get to be 300 pounds?
Me: Yes
Elizabeth: What if I only had one arm and one leg?
Me: Yes
Elizabeth: Ooh I have a better idea. What if there was only half of me. So I only had one arm, one leg, half of a face,half of a body, AND I weighed 300 pounds. Then what?
Me: (no comment)
So now that you know a lot more about the true Elizabeth do you want to read her blog? .... Probably ... this game sucks.
-Dirty Lenses
But before you start reading her blog, maybe you should know how erratic she really is. Here are a few random quotes and scenarios that I've captured in the past week. Enjoy.
"Do you think it's possible to have one armpit smell worse than the other? Because I'm pretty sure my right armpit smells worse than my left."
"The little 12 year old girls watching this show will vote for the little 12 year old singer because I was 12 once."
"This one time at camp I had this crush on a camp counselor. I was 13 and he was 21. I thought he was going to wait for me."
"Eric, from CSI is hot. Don't you think so, honey?"
"This dog is so fat I can barely pick her up. Do you think she looks anorexic?"
"I'm probably going to have to wear a diaper when I'm pregnant. Because I have a really small bladder. And sometimes I pee a little bit already. Just imagine when I'm pregnant."
"Will you smell my armpit? I'm pretty sure it stinks"
"That dog farted and again and it smells like fish. Will you wash that dog's butt?"
**************************
Sometimes she talks in her sleep.. and this is what I wake up to.
"SCARED, SCARED, SCARED, SCARED"
"OH MY GOODNESS! OH MY GOODNESS! I THINK I JUST SCARED MYSELF AWAKE!"
"OOOOOOOUUUUUUCCCCCHHHH MY EYE!!" (that was me screaming when she punched me in the eye while she was asleep. Funny thing is... she didn't even wake up)
And this one is my all time favorite.
Elizabeth: Will you still love me even if I get to be 300 pounds?
Me: Yes
Elizabeth: What if I only had one arm and one leg?
Me: Yes
Elizabeth: Ooh I have a better idea. What if there was only half of me. So I only had one arm, one leg, half of a face,half of a body, AND I weighed 300 pounds. Then what?
Me: (no comment)
So now that you know a lot more about the true Elizabeth do you want to read her blog? .... Probably ... this game sucks.
-Dirty Lenses
Sunday, July 25, 2010
And the winner is...
So about a week ago, my wife told me she was starting a blog. My reaction: smile and avoid eye contact.
Her dream is to be a famous bloggist? blogster? blogger? She wants millions of people to rush home each night to log on to their computers just to read her blog.
So when she told me that she was going to blog, I cracked a smile thinking... "She probably read a whole bunch of blogs and now she feels inspired to spill her guts." Somehow what I was thinking didn't quite match what I said.
"I would soo be a better blogger than you." I don't know what happened. Scientifically speaking, I think men's brains are genetically hardwired to never say what we are really thinking.
A week and six blogs later, here I am, in a competition... with my wife. Trying to win the hearts of people who are bored enough to read my blogs. And for the first time in my life... I am losing to a girl.
At first, I was really confused. I mean really confused. What could be so great about her blog that I don't have? Then I realized, she's cheating. Any real competitor can see the obvious signs.
1. She used a picture. If you noticed the picture on her blog you probably had the same thought others have had while reading: "What is that drop-dead gorgeous girl doing with that ugly guy?" Instantly, you want to read the blog daily to find out what is the sad, yet beautiful story behind why she felt sorry for this man. The truth is that I risked my life to save two dogs from a burning fire in the middle of the night while I had a broken leg. The broken leg was from when I dove in front of a car to save an old lady that was about to get hit. There... mystery over.
2. She is a girl. Through my extensive research as a teacher, I've learned that reading was designed for girls. There are five times as many books in the library for girls than there are boys. ... Ok my statistic may be a little exaggerated, but the idea is still true. Point being, girls read; guys dont. Take a look at all of my followers. All of them are girls. Except for my college friend, Josh. But I'm pretty sure he doesn't even read them. He's just a follower because his wife follows my wife's blog.
3. She is a girl. This point may sound redundant. But let's take a look at it from a different stand point. Women say twice as many words in a day than men do. Of course she's going to get more followers; her vocabulary is inexhaustible! I can't blog because every time I type, "touchdown" and "pizza" come to mind. I have to work to make this sound good, and even then it doesn't make sense.
4. She trash talks. Even while I'm blogging, she asks me questions like: "What are you blogging about?" or "Did you read my blog?" to throw me off. Pizza. (See what I mean?) This is what I call the "guilt trip tactic" . While I'm typing, she asks one of these two questions and I don't answer for fear that I will lose my train of thought. Then, she pretends to be angry, thereby forcing me into a response, touchdown! (sorry.. its a habit) which then throws off my writing.
5. Today, I responded to one of her tricks with "Sorry I'm not a pro blogger/mulitasker like you," and do you how she responds?!!! "Honey you're a great blogger... I think why I'm getting more followers than you is because I read up on how to get more followers. Do you want me to guest blog on your page? How about vice-versa?"
WHAT?! ARE YOU SERIOUS? Not only is she messing with my mind... she is sending her reader subliminal messages. This is an excerpt from her blog:
'Hi my name is Elizabeth and I love writing blogs. You should read my blogs because I know where you sleep at night.'
Personally,I think she should be disqualified. Due to a technicality, I am the official winner. You should know, I love my readers! Touchdown. And my readers should love me too because I own knives.
-Dirty Lenses
Her dream is to be a famous bloggist? blogster? blogger? She wants millions of people to rush home each night to log on to their computers just to read her blog.
So when she told me that she was going to blog, I cracked a smile thinking... "She probably read a whole bunch of blogs and now she feels inspired to spill her guts." Somehow what I was thinking didn't quite match what I said.
"I would soo be a better blogger than you." I don't know what happened. Scientifically speaking, I think men's brains are genetically hardwired to never say what we are really thinking.
A week and six blogs later, here I am, in a competition... with my wife. Trying to win the hearts of people who are bored enough to read my blogs. And for the first time in my life... I am losing to a girl.
At first, I was really confused. I mean really confused. What could be so great about her blog that I don't have? Then I realized, she's cheating. Any real competitor can see the obvious signs.
1. She used a picture. If you noticed the picture on her blog you probably had the same thought others have had while reading: "What is that drop-dead gorgeous girl doing with that ugly guy?" Instantly, you want to read the blog daily to find out what is the sad, yet beautiful story behind why she felt sorry for this man. The truth is that I risked my life to save two dogs from a burning fire in the middle of the night while I had a broken leg. The broken leg was from when I dove in front of a car to save an old lady that was about to get hit. There... mystery over.
2. She is a girl. Through my extensive research as a teacher, I've learned that reading was designed for girls. There are five times as many books in the library for girls than there are boys. ... Ok my statistic may be a little exaggerated, but the idea is still true. Point being, girls read; guys dont. Take a look at all of my followers. All of them are girls. Except for my college friend, Josh. But I'm pretty sure he doesn't even read them. He's just a follower because his wife follows my wife's blog.
3. She is a girl. This point may sound redundant. But let's take a look at it from a different stand point. Women say twice as many words in a day than men do. Of course she's going to get more followers; her vocabulary is inexhaustible! I can't blog because every time I type, "touchdown" and "pizza" come to mind. I have to work to make this sound good, and even then it doesn't make sense.
4. She trash talks. Even while I'm blogging, she asks me questions like: "What are you blogging about?" or "Did you read my blog?" to throw me off. Pizza. (See what I mean?) This is what I call the "guilt trip tactic" . While I'm typing, she asks one of these two questions and I don't answer for fear that I will lose my train of thought. Then, she pretends to be angry, thereby forcing me into a response, touchdown! (sorry.. its a habit) which then throws off my writing.
5. Today, I responded to one of her tricks with "Sorry I'm not a pro blogger/mulitasker like you," and do you how she responds?!!! "Honey you're a great blogger... I think why I'm getting more followers than you is because I read up on how to get more followers. Do you want me to guest blog on your page? How about vice-versa?"
WHAT?! ARE YOU SERIOUS? Not only is she messing with my mind... she is sending her reader subliminal messages. This is an excerpt from her blog:
'Hi my name is Elizabeth and I love writing blogs. You should read my blogs because I know where you sleep at night.'
Personally,I think she should be disqualified. Due to a technicality, I am the official winner. You should know, I love my readers! Touchdown. And my readers should love me too because I own knives.
-Dirty Lenses
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