Persistently Dangerous

For four years my high school has been named persistently dangerous. I don't know all the details that qualify us for this label. I do know it has something to do with the number of students expelled, weapons confiscated, and maybe the number of fights recorded or something along those lines. In addition to a lot of negative publicity, the label has given us a worse-than-it-already-was reputation within the community. Truth be told, I've never felt unsafe at the school, and while I know they happen more often, I've only witnessed three or four fights in my almost three and a half years there. So with this shadow hanging over our school, we were very proud to find that we qualified for a rather large grant because of our persistently dangerous designation. Not only that, but we were the only school in the entire state that qualified because we were so persistent in our persistently dangerous designation. If you're going to do something, do it well. That's what I say. Go big or go home.
With this grant just about in the bag, we weren't sure whether to be excited or disappointed this week when we heard that our school was finally taken off of the persistently dangerous list. If it means we will no longer qualify for a million or more dollars, I know of a couple kids who could help us out.
*This just in: all expelled students to return to McKay.*

Pioneer Woman

So I've been following this blog ever since last spring when my co-star, Jessica, got me hopelessly hooked. I blame any decline in work productivity on her. The blog is http://thepioneerwoman.com. I am on the site so often, I almost feel like I know the family. I also feel a little like a stalker. It's shameful really. In real life, I'm almost convinced we could be best buds. She likes to cook. I like to cook. She likes animals. I like animals. She has severe sweating spells when confronted with stressful situations. I am the queen of pitting out when I teach. Or meet somebody new. Or have to speak in front of a group, drive in the city, or call somebody besides my mom on the telephone. See, we're really very much alike. Anyway, she just published a cookbook. This cookbook is not only full of good recipes and funny anecdotes, it's full of step by step photos and instructions. It's awesome. Mostly, because while I love to cook, I love to mess a recipe up. With pictures each step of the way, I might make it through a cake recipe without forgetting to grease the pan, a steak recipe without drying it out to shoe leather, and an egg recipe without making it look like something that's just been pulled out of the garbage disposal. This is very good news. :) I'll let you know how it goes. If you decide to check out the blog for yourself, just be warned, it's very addicting and don't say I didn't tell you so.

Mile madness

We ran the mile in PE today. Today and yesterday actually, except for one class. We were dodging rainstorms, and one class lucked out. I love watching students run the mile. For some of them, it's a cake walk, for others it an insurmountable (sadly enough) challenge. It's the ones that are really working for it, that I like to watch. They get so pumped up and excited when they're done, especially if they've improved. Some of them do really well. I don't know why "the mile" seems like such a daunting task to these guys, something about being on the track makes them feel like it's a really long way to go. The truth is, most of them run that far for our warm-ups in the gym each day. Maybe it's the timed component that gets them. I used to always be nervous for our PE mile and a half in middle school. These guys have to run under 12 minutes to pass. It's kind of dumfounding how many can't do one mile in that amount of time. I tell them my mom can run 26 without stopping at 8min/mile. They don't believe me, but it's true. Some of them can do it, they just choose not to. They don't want to sweat or be uncomfortable. I wonder how many people really aren't capable of passing. You should try it, and if you don't pass, you should consider talking to a doctor about possible health risks. This has been a public service announcement from the emergency broadcast network...no, not really.
Signing off and stepping down from the soap box...again.

Did you hear the news?

I'm going to be an aunt. I just want to make sure that everybody knows that. Aunt Bobbi, Aunty Bobbi, Favorite Aunt Bobbi Boucher. Yep, just kind of rolls off your tongue doesn't it?
We got to throw a baby shower for mi hermana this last weekend. It was her first one so far, and it was a blast. I thought it was a blast anyway. We'll see how I feel about it after I come down from my sugar high. :)

Baby Marquez should arrive in just two and a half more months, but if he holds out to something closer to three, we could share a birthday. Don't worry, Shae, I'm not actually wishing that one you, I'm just pointing out the bright side of what could potentially happen. Here's where the shower took place. We call this The Carriage House. That's because it's a carriage house. See how the name kind of fits?

The party was a tea party, and though Baby Marquez is going to be a boy, I'm sure he won't mind. It was only women in attendance after all. (Aren't the tea cookies the coolest thing ever? They were made courtesy of my awesome friend, Stacy.)


We ate lots of food with lots of lovely ladies.


The only thing we didn't eat was this delicious cake made by one of the Marquez family friends, who, we discovered, is also a fabulous game show host. She was on top of her game for baby bingo which was good because I'm telling you, those ladies were trying to get away with all sorts of shinanagans. I'll tell you right now, overalls do not count as bibs.


All in all, the games were fun,


the family and friends were plentiful,

and the day couldn't have been nicer.
Now if that baby would just hurry up and get here...

Maximum punishment.

I got an e-mail the other day at school that was priceless. Especially the second paragraph. I'll let it speak for itself. I did change the names to protect my student's privacy.

Dear Mrs. Bobbi Wright, (Evidently I'm married.)

Kim has politely asked me to write you a brief email discussing our daily workout routine at tennis practice. As you may know, my name is Phin and I'm Kim's private coach. We conduct practice between 5:30pm-7:00pm on Mondays, 3:30-5:00pm on Tues-Friday. Our daily workout routine varies and is chronologically scheduled per session. However, we usually start with a warm-up jog (3-5 laps) around the perimeter of Chemeketa Community College tennis courts. Followed by footwork drills which is more sprinting from baseline to baseline. Then forehand/backhand volleys on the wall. We generally spend between 20-30 minutes on our warm ups. Thereafter, we dive into our practice sessions, the girls are serious and ambitious to improve. At the end of practice, we warm-down with a combination of footwork and cardio which we call "firedrills". Really keeps them warm during this time of the year :) Last but not least, the best part of their day is when they can finally stretch out and conclude their strenuous workout.

Quite frankly, I'm not sure why a detailed log of our practice would excuse Kim from missing two days of your class. If she's scheduled to be in class, in my opinion, there is no excuse to be absent or tardy unless it's an emergency or illness. If I were you, I'd exercise the maximum punishment. However, I do know that Kim has not been feeling well lately and have missed two of my sessions this week also. Please feel free to contact me directly at your earliest convenience if you have any further questions or inquiries regarding our tennis practice.

Kindest Regards,

Phin Pham

Okay, so just to note: first of all, Kim was ill all week and therefore missed school (thank you for not coming and sharing it with all of us) and second, she's a top notch student who, before these absences, had 100% in the class.

So little to say, so much time...

Haha. It's true though. Ask Ross. Or pretty much anyone. I use a lot of words to say not much of anything. It's pretty sweet.
To the point: marathon pictures.

Pre-race - you can tell because I'm still smiling and Mom looks like she's freezing.
"Ohhh, I'm so happy. It's mile twelve and I can still find some joy in this." Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
But seriously, take a look at Mom's muscles in this next pic.
Well, they show up better in the blown up version, just trust me she has some serious definition in this shot.

Uhhh ohhhhh. Somebody went out too fast. Somebody is cramping from butt to toe. Stu-Pid!

Ohhh, somebody is still smiling at mile 21. I don't think I like you very much right now.

Okay, now I like you. Short stuff. And you too Gigi. Nice work Ladies. :)

Buh-bye.

So much to say, so little time...

It's the time of year when I'm being pulled in two dozen different directions, or so it seems. Consequently, my blog is on the back burner. Not to worry, I haven't forgotten. I've just been saving up my stories, and one of these days I'm going to explode with nonsense all over this blog. Here's a quick re-cap of what's been going on in the not so wild adventure of my life.
*I was a bridesmaid in a wedding for only the second time in my life.
*I wore make-up for the first time in my life.
*I ran a marathon with my mom. She almost beat me again. Almost.
*I burnt 28lbs of apples in the process of making applesauce.
*I mulched 28lbs of apples.
*I had a student break his arm in my class.
*I bought new spatulas.

Yep, we're livin' the good life here in Salem, Oregon. Wish you were here.

It's the little things

It's the little things in life that really rock my world. Why is that, you ask? Or maybe you don't, but rest assured, I'm about to tell you. The little things are like my foundation. They keep me grounded. So it was with great grumbling and gnashing of teeth that I conceded to the fact that one truth I've lived by for so many years was in fact a misunderstanding. You know that little calendar song that helps you remember what months have 31 days and what months have 30 or less in the case of February? "Thirty days past September..." you know, that one. Well, I never learned it. I couldn't quite keep it straight, so I didn't try. I prefered the mountain/valley approach that they also taught you in second grade, where you use your knuckles to count off the 31 day months (mountain - aka first knuckle) starting with January, and the less than 31 day months (valleys - aka between knuckles). Well, somehow along the way, I missed the fact that you had to put two fists together. I thought you should count across one hand and then back again, thus making 31/30 every other month. Then two days ago, my world came to a screeching halt when, for various reasons, I had to double check my knuckle math with a calendar. That's when I discovered the July/August phenomenon. Why? why? why???? do two months in a row have 31 days? What was the stinking point of that? Now I'm all screwed up. All my life I thought that the months rotated in perfect and natural harmony. 31. 30. 31. 30. But noooooooooooo, somebody had to throw in the double 31. Oh dear. I am really having a break down over this. I think I need some mineral water.