Oh my gosh, I am peeing on myself just thinking about it! And I really can’t explain why. I mean, most of the people I really care about seeing are the ones I see fairly regularly anyway, so it’s not like we need a special get-together time to catch up. And it’s not that I don’t care about seeing all the other people who are going to be there. Quite the opposite, in fact. They’re the ones I am so excited to see. I am just so curious about what has happened to them in the past ten years. Where have they been? What have they done with themselves? Who have they become? It’s fascinating.

I really don’t even know what I’m expecting. I think it will probably be like meeting a lot of strangers for the first time who kind of remind me of people I used to see a lot. I don’t think I really knew them back then. The ones I did really know, I still do know. But these “new” people I’m going to meet - I really want to know them now. Maybe that’s the exciting part. Not that I want to know them, but that they’ve grown into who they are, and now I can know them. Really them. Not the fake, high school versions of them that were all wrapped up in popularity (or lack thereof), extracurricular activities and whatever else high schoolers find their identity in.

Now I just have to decide what to WEAR!

Hannah Montana Quiz!

60% (9 out of 15 Questions Correct)

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I have quite a bit of random food in the fridge/freezer that I’m determined to eat before I buy any more. I’d like to do this for two reasons: I don’t want it to go to waste. And I’m poor this month. So let’s see how long I can go without buying food, shall we? I don’t think it’ll be that long, but…

Dear Roommates,

Don’t let me buy any food until I’ve eaten what I have. K thx bai.

I was riding in a taxi, which seemed to be a normal-enough-sized taxi, except there were about eight people in it. There was the driver, someone riding shotgun, a blonde girl standing between them (on the gearshift, presumably), and then in the back, there was a girl from Alabama, DLF, me, my old college roommate Becky, and at least one other girl. I feel like there may have been two others in the backseat, but they didn’t do anything, so I can’t be sure of their presence at all.

Well, Becky was dressed all in blue because she had been to a few different places that day, all of which had blue as one of their major colors. I think at least one of the places she’d been was a restaurant of some sort whose sign was blue. When she explained it in the dream, it made sense even if DLF and I did think it was rather high school of Becky to color-coordinate with her daily places of business.

Anyhoe, Becky, DLF and I were on our way to a bar that was having some kind of event (otherwise, it would only really make sense for Becky to be going). I don’t know what the event was, but we were looking forward to it. The other cab passengers were also headed to bars, but those of a radically different sort from the one where we planned on spending the evening. These girls (the blonde in the front seat, the Alabaman and the other girl) were more of the stereotypical sorority variety. They were all dolled up in their going-out gear, and they were ready to par-tay.

DLF and I were trying to talk to the Alabaman, but Southern as we are, we could not understand a word she said. I’m pretty sure she was more of a…physical communicator anyway, though, because all of a sudden, a popular club song came on the radio, and the three girls (Blondie, ‘Bama, and Other Girl) stood up in the cab and commenced to dancing VERY inappropriately. Well, it was all DLF and I could do to contain ourselves. I thought we might explode from holding in the laughter. It was just that ridiculous a sight. And the poor cabbie couldn’t see for the blonde undulating in his face. He kept having to push her aside and lean over to see around her.

The end.

Subject:The AIG solution

I’m against the $85 BILLION bailout of AIG. Instead, I’m in favor of giving $85,000,000,000 to America in a ‘We Deserve It’ dividend.  To make the math simple, let’s assume there are 200,000,000 bona fide U.S. citizens, aged 18+.

Our population is about 301 million counting every man, woman and child.  So, 200,000,000 might be a fair stab at adults 18 and up., divide 200 million, 18+ adults into $85 billion - that equals $425,000.00 each!   Yes, my plan is to give that $425,000 to every adult as a ‘We Deserve It’ dividend.

Of course, it would NOT be tax free.  So, let’s assume a tax rate of 30%.  Everyone would pay $127,500.00 in taxes.  That sends $25.5 billion right back to Uncle Sam!  It also means that every adult 18+ has $297,500.00 in their pocket.  A husband and wife would have $595,000.00!

What would you do with $297,500.00 to $595,000.00?
* Pay off your mortgage - housing crisis solved.
* Repay college loans - what a great boost to new grads.
* Put away money for college - it’ll really be there.
* Save in a bank - create money to loan to entrepreneurs.
* Buy a new car - create jobs .
* Invest in the market - capital drives growth.
* Pay for your parent’s medical insurance - health care
improves.
* Enable Deadbeat  Parents  to come clean - or else.
Remember this is for every adult U.S. citizen, 18 and older (including the folks who lost their jobs at Lehmann Brothers and every other company that is cutting back) and of course, for those serving in our Armed Forces.

If we’re going to re-distribute wealth let’s really do it!   Instead of trickling out a puny $1,000.00 economic incentive.

If we’re going to do an $85 billion bailout, let’s bail out every adult U.S. citizen!!

As for AIG - liquidate it.
* Sell off its parts.
* Let American General go back to being American General.
* Sell off the real estate.
* Let the private sector bargain hunters cut it up and clean it up.

We deserve the money and AIG doesn’t.  Sure it’s a crazy idea, but can you imagine the coast-to-coast block party?!

How do you spell Economic Boom? W-e  D-e-s-e-r-v-e  I-t d-i-v-i-d-e-n-d!  I trust my fellow adult Americans to know how to use the $85 Billion ‘We Deserve It’ dividend more than do the geniuses at AIG or in Washington, D.C..

And remember, The Birk plan only really costs $59.5 billion because $25.5 billion is returned instantly in taxes to Uncle Sam.

How well can you…

cook? I have to say…I’m pretty good, but I don’t do it that often because I don’t plan ahead well enough to have ingredients on hand. I generally get hungry, decide what I want, go out to purchase ingredients, decide I’m too hungry to wait until I’ve cooked whatever it is I have the ingredients for, and swing by the Taco Bell drive-thru on the way home from the grocery store. On the upside, I have those ingredients for later. And THAT is the only reason I know I can cook at all.

sew? Ummm…hello?

clean? Hahaha. Yeah, let’s not discuss that. Well, ok, we can. I like to put the dishes in the dishwasher as I use them. Then, when it’s full, I like to run it. But after that, things start to break down. I don’t like to unload the dishwasher, so then I can’t put new dirties in, and they just pile up in the sink. My bathroom sink, however, is always clean. I wipe it down every night after I wash my face. Generally, although things may not be dirty, they are just strewn. I strew. I’m a strewer. It’s not unsanitary. It’s just cluttered.

sing? Like a Vienna Choir Boy

play an instrument? I can play the guitar…kind of. And I used to be able to play the piano. Back me up on this, please, somebody, because anyone who’s heard me lately would never believe it.

write? I mean. I like to write. I love it, actually. And people tell me I do it well, although that didn’t really start until college. Up until that time, I didn’t think I was very good at it, probably because my style didn’t fit so well into the writing mold required by standardized tests. Even when I took the GRE (after I’d realized I could write), I got a pretty bad score on the writing portion. So unappreciated.

read? I can read at a post-graduate level. Oh yeah. I’m that good.

paint or draw? THIS is worth laughing about. I sometimes try to use illustrations to define words or concepts to my students, and all animals come out looking like animals other than the animals they were intended to be. And all people are stick figures unless they need to be wearing clothing or have a chest cavity for some reason. The one thing I can draw kind of well is a big ol’ plantation house. When I taught level 1, we would talk about house vocabulary, and I would have them draw and write about their dream house. Their dream houses would inevitably be modest ranches - maybe a split-level if they were really ambitious. But mine… Mine was always a two-story, white house with columns, a wrap-around porch, a balcony, a porch swing, a bay window, two chimneys, and a gigantic old oak tree in the front yard. Not that I’ve thought about it that much.

tell stories? Well, I needed a dresser, and we needed a coffee table for our living room, so we set out one Saturday to scour the Goodwills of the Triangle in search of these items. But they are large items, you see, and we were in my car, which would not accommodate them and us, so we stopped by Lauren’s parents’ house to borrow their truck. Then we went back to two Goodwills to make/pick up our purchases before driving back across town to our house. Lauren, needing to return the truck to her parents, headed over to their house for dinner, but it’s quite a haul from there to here, and her mom didn’t want to drive her back over to our place.

Lucky for her, I was going to the airport that night to pick up VA, and the airport is MUCH closer to their place, so her mom just dropped her off with me at the Sheetz down the street from RDU, we picked up VA (after about a two-hour delay), and headed back into town to drop VA at her apartment before returning home (finally).

So we were in the car with VA, and she asked something along the lines of, “Lauren, what made you decide to come to the airport too?” And I proceeded to launch into the whole story of the day, starting with, “Well, I needed a dresser…” which Lauren found REALLY amusing. She said she probably would have just said something like, “Oh, I was at my parents’ house, and I didn’t have my car, so my mom just brought me to meet Beth instead of driving me 30 minutes across town.”

I said that was completely illogical to me, and that it only made sense to start at the beginning of the story regardless of whether or not the complete story is necessary information. So I don’t know if I’m good at telling stories. But I really like (or perhaps feel compelled) to tell them.

persuade? I’m probably really good at convincing people to do things they want to do deep down but feel they shouldn’t do for some silly reason of responsibility or societal expectation. Oh yeah. I’m an instigator.

resist those who persuade you? Same thing. If I want to do something, I am easily persuaded to do it. But if I do not want to do something, I am unmovable.

dress? I don’t dress. I OWN.

decorate a room? It takes me a long time to get a room just right, but I take great joy in seeing it come together. I love finding old fixer-upper stuff at the flea market, etc. to give a room a little extra something. I also like seeing completely mismatched things come together to complete a room. I find that very beautiful for some reason.

decorate a cake? I’m not very good at cake decorating. I leave that to Brookie. But I did make one spectacular “Wave of Babies” cupcake. And I am a champion cake-eater!

parallel park? On a good day, I’m a pro. But on a bad day, I may as well not even try. I just can’t get close enough to the curb sometimes.

dance? What? You mean you have yet to see me to “The Grind” or “Sexy Up/Down” or any square dance moves?????? Oh, friend, you are MISSING. OUT.

swim? I’m a Pisces and a once-licensed SCUBA diver. You be the judge.

I don’t really have much else to say about it. I am neither surprised nor disappointed. It would have been fun, but I have plenty of other things going on in my life. For instance, right now, I’m going to watch Arrested Development and eat Oreos. See? I’m super-busy. (Actually, I am pretty busy, but it’s Friday, and I’m tired. Don’t judge.)

Did I get it right? I can never remember if it’s Ira David or David Ira, and last night at the audition, when you introduced yourself as David Wood, well that just threw me off completely. I do apologize about never getting your name right. That must be frustrating for you. My name’s Elizabeth Claire. I think it rolls off the tongue easier than Claire Elizabeth, but that’s probably just because it’s always been my name. I have a friend named Claire Elizabeth, and she probably thinks that’s easy to remember. So if you can’t ever remember the order, that’s ok. I can’t get yours straight either. Just call me Beth anyway. That’s what everybody else calls me. Except for my students, who call me “Teacher.” That’s it. Not “Teacher Beth,” not “Ms. Beth,” just “Teacher.” Weird, huh? I’ve always thought so.

So Beth will do because I don’t have a stage or professional name. Probably because I’ve never been professionally on stage. I was in a really low-budget high school play back in ‘98 called “Ducktails and Bobbysocks.” If you Google it, you’ll get a bunch of really low-budget elementary and middle school performance announcements, and honestly, I’m surprised anyone else has done the thing. I found a woman on YouTube playing and singing all the songs. This was my big song with my buddy Alan (I think you know him. He played Nephew Fred for you.) when I played “Bertha,” the “awkward girl” to his “Wilbur,” the “awkward boy.” Just give that a listen and tell me you’re not absolutely drooling to have an artist of my caliber in your Christmas show. Hoo-boy.

Anyway, I was really nervous last night, and I know my audition consisted largely of me standing there like the fire tower my sisters and I for some reason identified as “Medoc” throughout our childhood when we passed it on our way to Enfield to visit our grandparents. But I promise you, Ira David Wood III, if you let me play in your show, I will not stand there with my hand in my pocket (unless expressly directed to do so). I will sing and dance and be a fountain of joviality and delight (unless expressly directed to do otherwise).

If you’re concerned with the quality of my singing or that I’m too self-conscious and nervous to put on a show, I invite you to come to my class any weekday between 9:00 a.m. and 1:00 p.m., where there is a daily performance. Sometimes it’s even an exhilarating grammar performance (take a moment to compose yourself after that thought). Or we can go for a ride, and I’ll do a little “So Much Better” for you. I think you’ll like it. The girl on my CD has three names too.

Let me know what you think, Ira David Wood III.

Sincerely,

Elizabeth Claire Parent

So I’ll be really surprised if I make it. Really surprised. But I’ll let you know either way when they post the list on Friday. Of course, my students all think I’m a shoo-in, having watched me sing and dance and mime and be generally dramatic and ridiculous for the last three weeks, but man. Auditions (with a clenched fist raised to the sky in anger).

Auditioning is not fun. It’s fun to go to the auditions and watch the other people. And it’s fun to be in a show if you get in. But the part where you stand up and sing in front of the writer/director/star, choreographer, stage manager, chairman of the board of directors and 100 talented theater people who want you to not get in so that they can - that part I could do without. If I could just force Ira David Wood III to go for a drive with me…but no. That sounds a little bit too much like a kidnapping, doesn’t it? I just want to sing for the man. Honest. But not in an audition. The car is much more comfortable.

Obviously I realize that when one performs in a play, one stands before an audience and is required to sing and dance, but that’s the fun part. Hamming it up in front of an audience when you’re in costume is easy. Especially because they’re generally more than five feet away from you, and you can’t really see them for the lights anyway. You just hear the applause. It’s a totally different energy.

Anyhoe. I ramble. I’ll stop. And I’ll let you know what happens on Friday.