Theatre

Charlie finishes Cuckoo tonight. So things will return to normal. Well, sort of. I mean, there's still me in school and the crazy opposite work schedules.

I really want to do a play this year. But I just don't think I'll be able to with school and all. I really want to, so maybe I will anyway. I'm a little sad. I wanted to do this one called Same time, next year. Charlie and I were going to audition together, but I just don't see how I can do that, go to school, and be a stinking key holder at work.

So I'm a little sad.

Marriage or why I love my husband

Last night I lost a notebook. I was really upset because not only did it have my notes from this semester, but it had a poem I was working on (which is a big deal, because I don't write poetry so much anymore). I looked all around and couldn't find it. So Charlie gets up and helps me look.
We look in the living room, in the computer room, in the bedroom, I went out and looked in my car, no where. So he starts to put on his shoes. "You don't have to go out and look, I allready did." "I'm just going to go check," he says.
30 seconds later he walks in with the notebook.
"Where was it?" I asked. "It was between the passenger seat and the door. I knew it would be there. Every time you loose something, that's where it is. I know you."
That's what marriage is, knowing where someone lost something.
Of course, I knew the face he made when he found it. We had a nice laugh.
When I started to work on the poem though, it didn't come out of my head like I wanted it to. They never do anymore. I think I left part of myself somewhere.

Shopping with Charlie

I love my husband very much, there's no denying that.
Sometimes, however, he really lacks common sense.
Last night we went shopping to Tanger Outlets in North Myrtle Beach. I need ultra conservative teacher clothes and he just needed some nice new shirts/pants. He's a bit sick of his old stuff.
The whole way there he kept telling me how hungry he was. He had just gotten home before I got home and hadn't had a chance to eat anything. So as soon as we got to the Outlets, we headed for the food court. I had had a late lunch at school, so really just wanted a Cinnabon. He, in typical Charlie fashion, headed straight for the pizza place. No one was there to take his order. He waited. And he waited. Eventually he got angry and just came and sat down. "There he is!" I exclaimed as the man walked up to the register. "I don't care." Charlie said. "What do you MEAN you don't care, you've been telling me for the past 30 minutes how hungry you are, you've been waiting, and now you won't go get pizza?" "It's the principle." "What principle?" "I don't like to be kept waiting."
This is just me, but when I'm hungry, I don't care what anyone does to me, I'm GETTING FOOD. He's really picky, so there really wasn't anything else that immediatley caught his eye. I eventually persueded him to go to the Great American Steak company, which he did, and he got a sandwhich he turned out to really like.
We had a really nice rest of the night. He bought two dress shirts and a pair of pants. All looked REALLY snazzy on him. Paws off ladies! I bought a pair of pants and a shirt, both of which I'm wearing today and I really like.
He apologized later for being difficult. "I say wierd things sometimes when I'm hungry." I'm used to it, darling.
Does this whole thing seem silly to someone else? I just thought it was a bit much to go hungry just because someone didn't come to the register right away.

My favorite flower

So how's this for a good sign? I just found out my school assignment for my first practicum.
I’ll be heading out to Daisy Elementary School.
Mrs. H (our practicum supervisor) called me tonight to let me know. That was VERY nice of her considering she’s not doing it for anyone else. The reason she called is because of few of my fabulous classmates let her know I was concerned about getting put with someone with a bad attitude.
So she let me confirm my partner. I’ll be with the Divine Mrs. M, who I like to call Supermom.
But don’t tell anyone.
The only bad thing about Daisy is that it’s about an hour from my house.

Crazy Cat

I'm home alone tonight. The hubby is in One Flew Over the Cuckoo's next the next two weeks, so there's lots of me time. Which is good. Even though I miss him.
So I've been watching Grease on TV and painting a picture of me and my best friend, we'll call her Mrs. S. It's not very good, but nothing I paint really is "good." But what is "good?"
"It's the process not the product"
My creative experiences teacher says that about 10 times a day. I think I want a tee shirt that says that.
So I'm painting Mrs. S, and Pumpkin sashays over to get a look at the "masterpiece." She does that a lot, just sits there and watches me, no big deal. I think she wanted to help. Before I could stop her, she puts her little paw in the orange paint. It wasn't even like she was testing it, she very deliberatley smacks her paw into it and when I reacted, she went running off.
So now there are little orange paw prints all over the house.
It would have been funny if she would have done all three paws and her stump.
I have 2 weeks and 2 days before I start my first practicum and I am NERVOUS!!!

How bout that

Oh, wow. Comments. Hmm. I wasn't even gonna tell anyone I was staring one because I knew I wouldn't keep up with it. And I haven't.
What I'm going to try to do is make this like a journal of sorts for when I being my Practicum, beginning October 31 (3 weeks away...). There's gonna be a lot come up I'm gonna want to talk about and I figured this would be a good place. People can read it or not, but hopefully I'll have some pretty funny stories. Like the story Dr. Barbie told us about the little boy peeing on the other little boy.