This should help you with the poll.

(Ok, MAYBE I had something to write about besides my cold.)

Not my cold.

My own snot is fine, but I don't like the snot of others. I suspect you feel the same way, so I am not going to write about my cold.

[The cold that tried to choke me to death in the middle of the night. I stayed awake, always on my guard, ready to cough up phlegm whenever the breathing got too raspy. (I also stayed awake because it was a big night for drunk dials from hooligan friends.)

The cold that almost dripped out of my nose into the till on my first day of training at Diva Espresso.

The cold that forced me to brew stupid herbal tea because it would "soothe my throat" (pssshhh) instead of the usual strong, delicious, caffeinated English Breakfast.

The cold that had me questioning whether to take those Crohn's-stopping imminuosuppressants. Constant tummy grumbles or constant throat scratchies? I chose the latter.

The cold that had me sneezing on the cat just now. Hahahaha! That's what he gets for demanding affection when all I want to do is write about how I'm not writing about my cold.)

Unfortunately for you, the cold dominated my life today, and I have nothing else to write about.

Abe does this all the time.

Go round and round

So, I'm leaning on the bus stop (because they removed the benches) reading Infidel, when this short, skinny, muttering lady asks if I have a light. While I am responding that no, I don't have a light, she exclaims, "You look just like Sissy Spacek! You could be her daughter!" Then some other man lights her cigarette and she leaves.

Lies! I don't look anything like Sissy Spacek! But I totally have that shirt. And that body.

The bus is even sillier than the stop. I have overheard two cell phone breakups in the last week. Actually, one was a "I'm hanging up, shutting off my phone, and I hope I never see or hear from you again" and the other was a "Well, I'm on the bus so I can't explain now, but basically you weren't enough for me anymore." Ouch. The poor suckers on the other ends of those conversations should know better than to date someone who has personal conversations on the bus. I limit my bus cell phone use to paying bills, especially ones where I give out my credit card info, social security number, etc.

And if I DO ever have a personal conversation on the bus, I will have it in Arabic. The woman sitting across from me was chatting in Arabic, and I couldn't eavesdrop at all. That was very crafty of her.

Now, I think I will go eat an apple.

This is ok.

Why?

Safeway never IDs me when I buy alcohol. Is it the crease over my right eye? Is this how grocery stores roll in Seattle? Is it because instead of buying 24-packs of PBR and 2-liter bottles of Coke, I am buying broccoli, cheerios, English muffins, flank steak, and a 6-pack of Blue Moon Belgian White Ale? Do I look old?

Maybe it's not that I look old. Maybe it's that I look sophisticated.

Give me tea, a book, and an empty bank account.

The best book I've read in the last six months was To Kill a Mockingbird. It was my third time through, and it shot up to third place on my list of Top 5 Favorite Books Ever (For Now).

Top 5 Favorite Books Ever (For Now)
1. Franny and Zooey
2. Jane Eyre
3. To Kill a Mockingbird
4a. The Red Tent
4b. Memoirs of a Geisha
4c. The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People
5. Ironweed

The other night, I dreamed I was Scout.

Coughing a little,
KJW

What I Learned in School Today; or, Someday Your Kid Will Talk to You About What Happened in Class

Of the eight people at my table in Dilemmas of Teaching and Learning, not one had watched the Salt-n-Pepa Show. Who are these people?

They are my (clearly tasteless) Masters in Teaching classmates.

Some of you know I'm in grad school, some of you know I'm at UW, and some of you know I'm planning on being a teacher. (Did you notice those comma splices? I broke grammar rules because I thought it sounded better. Oh, right there, too! I didn't put a comma between the two independent clauses because I wrote it how I'd speak it! I JUST DID IT AGAIN! Incredible. I read a chapter about this today.) What you may not know are the fascinating details:

• The University of Washington Masters in Teaching Program is a 5-quarter program.

• It's freaking awesome.

• I started two months ago, and I will graduate with a teaching certificate and Masters degree in March of 2009.

• That means I have the summer off to make money, go on wild adventures (Ireland? IMAX?), and reread The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People.

• Two of my three classes had snack sign-up sheets.
• Tomorrow is my day.
• I made pumpkin bread.

• We are a cohort of 60ish students, meaning our whole group starts and finishes together, and we're taking all the same classes at the same time. It's really adorable.
  

• My cohort is made up of strictly secondary ed students. Those sweet elementary folk are in another program. I met three of them. They exuded patience and understanding.

• For several weeks a quarter, we hang out in Seattle-area schools instead of attending our normal classes. The mornings are early, but I end up laughing even more than usual. This may or may not be related to sleep deprivation.
  

• We student-teach next Fall, but I'll spend at least six weeks in my assigned school (T.B.D.) during the next two quarters.
  

• Some of the future English teachers and I are going to Big Time Brewery after class tomorrow.

• We read a lot. A lot, a lot. And I love education, so I don't slack on the assignments like I did during my undergrad. Not that I did that, I mean. (This was like my millionth sentence fragment of the entry, but remember how I am above grammar now? Remember that?)
  

• I bet this list is getting really hard on the eyes

• I'll stop now and write in paragraph form, but only because I care about you.

• But not so much that I won't add this one last point!
  

After spending three weeks at Mountlake Terrace High School (amazing assemblies!) and two at Skyview Junior High (funniest kids in Pacific Northwest!), I've unofficially decided I want to teach eighth, ninth, or tenth grade English. No matter where I end up, though, I will find a way to wear silly hats at least three times a month.

Hope that helped, you filthy animal.

Ate Half a Pomegranate Today,
KJW

I am soooo politically literate.

All right, I was going to do serious research and back up the following claims with legitimate sources, but I wanted to get into the political mindset and give "facts" instead. (Oh, I am being mean. I think our campaigning habits are silly, but for the most part, I like politicians. Except Rudy Giuliani. Get out of my face and my Newsweek, Rudy Giuliani.)

In honor of the kicking-butt-in-the-polls, I've decided to kick off the post with Hillary Clinton. Ms. Clinton is a smart human, and she knows her way around the White House. I like that in a presidential candidate. However, I think she is a bit polarizing. (Here, I almost said, "Sure, the polarization is between the educated and the ignorant," but I decided that it was unfair, incorrect, and not hilarious.) Perhaps this bad-ass picture would cancel out all the hostility:





Yes, it would definitely put a stop to the animosity. Hillary Clinton is so freaking cool, especially lacey-collared and looking to the side like that.






I don't know a whole lot about Mitt Romney, but his debonair charm concerns my roommate. He's Mormon, though, isn't he? I've never met a Mormon I didn't like. I'm not rooting for any Republicans, but with the information I have, I wouldn't damn the right-wing to hell if they nominated this guy. (Salt-n-Pepa tell me that there's only one judge and that's God, so chill and let [their] Father do His job. Salt-n-Pepa is/are usually right. Therefore, I probably can't damn anyone the Republicans nominate. Still, that doesn't mean they should get out of control. I could throw eggs... hard-boiled eggs, scrambled eggs, eggs over medium, any kind of egg!)

Rudy "My Kids Refuse to Campaign For Me Because I'm a Jerk" Giuliani, on the other hand.... Besides the fact that I cleverly hid in his nickname (which, by the way, I made up myself), I don't know why he makes me so grumpy. Maybe it's that all he talks about is 9/11, and hey! Rudy! You were the boss of New York City, but Hillary was representing the whole dang state! She was there, too! So shut up, Rudy Giuliani. You're not an impressive man, and I don't like you, and I might start an Anyone But Rudy campaign on this really, really, really infuential blog.

That'd show him, having personality traits that bug me... psh.

Moving on, I think Barack Obama is swell. Once, I wrote about how he was too inexperienced and blah, blah, blah, but then, while lifting weights at WWU's rec center, I listened to his DNC keynote speech on my iPod. (Do you see how I weaseled in that comment about me lifting weights so you can imagine my strong, strong muscles? I will teach my students, the future of America, those tricks.) It changed my mind. Barack is a hero. Don't rule him out yet, people! There is hope! He was just on SNL! And Salt-n-Pepa (actually, just Salt) changed the "Whatta Man" lyrics from "body like Arnold" to "body like Barack!"

And on that note, I'm going to prepare myself for the Salt-n-Pepa Show, Mondays at 10:00 on VH1.

Packin' and mackin' / Bambloozin' and smackin' suckas with this track blog aaaaand,
KJW

PS I only selected four candidates to highlight. Why? Well, that's none of your business.

The one we love even though he won't contribute to society.

American Gangster put my life in perspective.

The average news: Eventually, I am going to be a teacher. I'll grade papers. I'll get frustrated about capitalization errors. I'll convince my students to say "cadaver" instead of "whatever." Yes, the days will begin early, but let's be honest - the only things keeping me up late these days are Scrabulous and The Daily Puppy. I can give those up for the poor, sweet, bad-spelling children (or even poor, sweet, pretty-good-spelling-children-who-just-need-to-work-on-dangling-participles).

The bad news: I won't get to roll around Harlem in a black, tinted Lincoln Town Car. Well, I could, but with the cost of housing in New York and the teacher's salary, buying a $42,000 car isn't reasonable. Plus, in order to go true American Gangster, I'd have to kill people in cold blood. That's not my style. And I'd have to leave the Pacific Northwest. I like it here. It's geographically diverse, and my neighbors like to recycle.

The good news: I'll never have to worry about corrupt police officers stealing my getaway cash or slapping my significant other. (Note: My significant other is a tough guy who might slap that corrupt police officer right back, but there is enough slapping in the world. Nooo mooore slapping!) In fact, when I tell people that I'm a teacher, they'll say, "Aw." If I told someone I was an important and influential gangster, they wouldn't believe me. They'd say, "Kelly, you are too precious to be a gangster," and they'd be right.

Not living a life of crime,
KJW

It begins! Oh my gosh!

Well hey, adorable reader! Welcome to my blog. I have decided not to kick it off with thoughts on world events, educational theories, or baby bears. Instead, here is a picture of me.

Thoughts on world events, educational theories, and baby bears to come. Maybe.

Likes you,
KJW