eggs, toast and grape juice = brain food

i remember getting ready to take the ACT in 11th grade. i attended the after-school classes, took the practice tests, even reviewed a book written entirely on taking the ACT. but the most important thing i did to prepare was eat breakfast the morning i headed for that random, pastey-walled classroom. yeah, that's right. i had a delicious breakfast of eggs, toast, and grape juice. now, those of you who know about nutrition will see right away that i had my bases covered: eggs for protein (one of thee most important components), toast for carbohydrates (some of us will not be fooled by fads and marketing), and grape juice (which provides the sugars that are most like the ones naturally found in our body). i was destined to succeed. and i did quite well on the ACT, thank you for asking.

so why do i reflect on a moment so long ago?

this morning, the students in my 8:30 Intro to the Visual Arts class were nothing more than slugs in their seats. one student even tried to look engaged by holding his pen in an upright, writing position. but when you sit on the second row and your head is bobbing, no bit of note-taking trickery is going to fool even the most aloof teacher. now let me interject here that the discussion today was on the wonderful world of texture and the masterful illusion space - and yes, i do make it that interesting! this ain't no run-of-the-mill PowerPoint presentation. so getting very little to no response this morning was a major frustration... and quite a let down if you must know the truth. after some inquiry i found out that my students, for the most part, had all skipped breakfast... they hadn't eaten a single morsel before stumbling through the door. yes, it's true! even after all the effort that was put into the 'Breakfast Is The Most Important Meal Of The Day' campaign. what more can we do? we only want to build a stronger future, one complete breakfast at a time.

moral of the story: eat breakfast, you numbskulls!

me and my llama - we're going to the dentist

i love getting my teeth cleaned... you know, by a professional. English and i went last week and i was reminded of how i really do look forward to the visits. i like the sandy toothpaste, the rubber tip of the polisher that kind of gives you a twang when it gets on your gums, the gentle scrapity-scrape of the pointed metal hook. even the forceful floss is nice. you think i speak in jest, but let me assure that i don't. if i could increase my regular visits to every three months instead of six, i would. plus, a new toothbrush, floss and a dent-a-pick all in one little plastic bag! it's almost like my birthday. who wouldn't enjoy such an outing?

p.s. English, though long in the neck, is not my llama. he's my husband.

of mole & Mexico

should i apologize for my absence?

choose one:
nah
i think we deserve one... sorry, them's the breaks.

i've been busy... no really i have. after we saw Walk The Line i gave a final exam then left to Mexico for three and a half weeks. needless to say, it was a great trip (more on that in a second), but i returned home only eight hours before the new semester began and "teaching in the 21st century isn't what it used to be"... i'm completely serious. so now, after a couple weeks of settling in, not to mention a gentle nudge from a reliable source, i'm ready for some cheese on rye - toasted, please.

as i was saying, Mexico was like a dream... no, let me try that again. i often dream i'm Mexican... uh, one more chance. we soaked up Mexico - its pleasures and frustrations - like dry sponges in a soup plate. at the risk of being short and sweet: it was awesome. i've never had so much good food day after day, i've never seen so many people crammed onto one street, i've never used a tablecloth, a rug and a curtain for blankets, and i've definately never seen a baby Jesus made out of radishes. may i reccommend Mexico?


the Zocolo in Mexico City


ruins at Monte Alban


a market - please note the exposed meat... no food handler's permit here folks


the Nativity made entirely of radishes


on the way to crocodile island

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