Afraid of the Dark

I've only been living alone for about seven months now. I have lived alone from time to time over the past few years, but this is the first time I actually live alone, alone. After living with all kinds of roommates and many different types of apartments and houses, I have gotten used to sleeping through a lot of different sounds. But it seems like now that I live alone I have gotten such a keen sense of hearing that everything startles me. I was trying to explain to Fernando that sometimes I hear something outside and I feel like I can hear it inside my apartment and it startles me. He just laughed, but I seriously feel like my hears play tricks on me at night.

Well I'm wide awake, but still extremely tired this morning, because I was sort of awake and the cat was purring and meowing at me to pet her and scratch and she kept walking all around in front of my face. I was have awake, and all of the sudden I heard a sound on the pillow. I looked to see if she was stepping on the pillow and I saw what I thought was person standing right next to the bed. My heart jumped and I opened my eyes wide and sat up, probably gasping at the same time...

It was her stupid tail. The angle I was laying and the height of her tale at that moment just happened to be strangely resembling a person. I'm so silly. Now, since I woke myself up with a jolt, I can't go back to sleep. It's goofy, yes. But to those who know me, it's not surprising that I freaked myself out once again. I guess I'll just watch t.v. for a little bit and then I'll get up and get going.

Adventures of the Grocery Store

It's amazing to me that different adventures I find myself in at the grocery store here. All my life, the grocery store was just simply a place to get food. There was nothing special about it, and aside from spending time with whomever was going, or getting food myself, it definitely wasn't the place I preferred to spend any time. In college, I hated going shopping, although it got a little more interesting if I sang along to the music, or if the Vegetable boy rode by on a cart serenading me and my roommates as we entered, meeting us later to tell us a few veggie jokes. But when I moved to Vegas, all things changed.

The grocery stores here are not your usual type of store. As soon as you walk in, you can hear the clinking and dinging of the slot machines. People do a little shopping and then check their cart in with the host as they go in to drop a few quarters and pull the handle a few times. They do this, I can only assume, to see if they can actually pay their grocery bill. Maybe it's to see if they can win a few extra dollars to get the name brand of paper towels as opposed to the store bought brand. It's hard to tell, but it's definitely an option that presents itself.

The best part and the most exciting adventures have been the different types of men that are frequenting the grocery store by myself. For the most part, you simply just see your usual guy/girl combo, a single guy or two, the husband on the phone sent to get the items forgotten on the previous trip, and a few other unique types. But, because it's Vegas, rest assured I've seen Elvis. He is alive. He is fabulously tall. He is getting a box of Mini-Wheats and some 1% milk. Trust me, I was as shocked as you are right now. But of course, I laughed and went on my merry way. Tonight however, I had a great experience to add to the list.

As I was shopping for a few last minute items and discretely singing along with the music playing overhead, I heard a man whistling obnoxiously. There weren't that many people there, and so his overzealous whistle could be heard several aisles over. As I approached the cottage cheese, he walked up with his rotisserie chicken in hand and said hello. I politely said hello back. He was about my dad's age and looked very nice. He then stopped and said "Do you know where the potato salad is?" I thought to myself, do I look like I work here? But, unlike other times I shop, I was not wearing an outfit similar to the uniform required. So I answered, "try the deli, that's where I would look." Then I smiled and and turned the corner. Without thinking, I headed down the aisle and came out on the other side near the deli. There was Mr. Rotisserie. He had found the potato salad, and looked up at me as I came out of the aisle. I dodged to the next aisle, and he suddenly approached me with his chicken and sides. He inquired "Would you like to share this with me for dinner. There is plenty. " I honestly laughed out loud and said no thank you. He persisted "Are you sure... " I just giggled again and walked away. At this point I'm thinking, what about my three day old, greasy pulled back hair, no make-up, and non matching outfit attracted this older man. I'm still not sure, but I can tell you that I could hear his energetic whistling for a while and I got on the phone with Martha just to cover myself and share the experience with someone. Luckily I wasted enough time to where he was gone when I went to cash out.

I may have to switch to a new grocery store if I feel like every time I go I'm going to run into Elvis or Mr. Rotisserie. Who knew grocery shopping could be such an adventure? Wanna go shopping?

Citation Notice: SID... Sleep Intoxicated Driving

Las Vegas is this totally huge place. At least, it seems enormous for a girl from WY. My boy friend lives about 25 minutes away from me. I work about 10 minutes from my house. I get up around 5:30, or at least the alarm begins at that time. I get to work around 7:00 and teach those little 7 yr olds until 2:40. At that, point, I continue my dead run as I go to Volleyball practice. Hopefully the energy is sustained as I try to portray the importance of keeping up the intensity during practice and games. Afterwards, I travel to Las Vegas (35 minutes), making certain that I only travel the speed limit of course. When I get to my boyfriends house, I usually help make dinner or at least clean it up. If I have any energy left, I do a little work, or some of my homework from my MA. The worst part is to follow. . . . Yes, be prepared.

I finally relax, as we turn on a movie. In seconds I'm conked out, drool, snoring, talking in my sleep, FULL Blown Rem cycle. Some would say they just fall asleep like that and stay the whole night, but our situation doesn't allow for me staying there. At some point, I always wake up. Sometimes it's at 8:00 and sometimes it's midnight. Once it was at 5:00 a.m. That was good, because I had to be up at 6:00 anyways, so I just went home. This process is totally ridiculous because after I wake up, I have to drive home. This sleep intoxication is the same as what I would imagine being under the influence of drugs would be like. I should be cited for this. It would be called SID... Sleep Intoxicated Driving.

It's really not smart for me to drive in these situations. Once, in 2001, I woke from a nap and went to my car to leave and managed to almost pull the carport over on top of my car as I pulled out. I left a nice little dent in the front bumper and caused the light to be pulled loose. This is not the only mishap I've had in my car as a result of driving while under the influence of sleep deprivation. About a year ago, I was a little late to Applebees, and so I had to hurry out to my car. I saw the trailer for the lawn workers parked behind my car. I even said out loud... "Oh, a trailer." I got into my car, checked out my makeup in the rear view mirror, and backed right into the trailer. When I hit the trailer I thought to myself... what did I hit... Can you believe I asked myself what I hit? Me neither. But with SID it's impossible to think rationally. I didn't even realize how bad I hit the trailer until I got out of my car to assess the damage. Needless to say, if it hadn't been for Bumper Medic and $400 bones, I would have had to have my bumper replaced.

In conclusion, I would suggest being completely awake before driving, especially for me.

Reading and Literacy

The other day, at a meeting at school, the literacy specialist shared with us an interesting tid-bit. The Nevada Department of Corrections contacted the Clark County School District and wanted to know the number of 2nd grade students who exited 2nd grade without being on grade level in Reading. The school district was happy to share, but wanted to know why, of course. So, apparently, the correlation between inmates and literacy is staggering. Persons in prison have a very high rate of illiteracy. Supposedly, if a 2nd grader leaves the grade and goes onto third grade, not on reading level, they are more likely to become illiterate. The type of reader an 8 year old is, is the type of reader they will always be. The early years are the most important. The Department of Corrections was trying to estimate the number of inmates they will be having in the next twenty years by the numbers of illiterate 2nd graders. There aren't very many people who can make it far in this world if they can't read. This is not something we haven't always been aware of, but it might be something we forget or expect will be fixed on it's own. I guess Tom Cruise was one of the lucky illiterates to escape the prison system because his hyper-activity was channeled by his mother into acting instead. What a good mother. If you think I'm kidding, you're wrong. His mother had to read him his script until the movie Top Gun. During Top Gun, he wanted to read so bad because of he could learn to read, he could fly one of the planes. Unfortunately, he didn't succeed, and therefore (thank goodness) never was able to fly the planes.

So next time you're little one needs to be read to or is just watching the "tube" as my dad used to call it, pull out a book and read with them or start planning your trips out to the State Pen.

You just gotta love the Simpsons! I've been watching them for years, although I can't claim that I'm a hardcore fan. I've dated a few of those, but I can only say that I like them. Before the movie came out, the hype was unbelievable. Of course, I have to say that it was a really good flick. I loved it and thought it was hilarious. Along with the hype, I was able to go to the one of the 8 locations of Kwik-E-Marts. There was one not far from my house. It was a free amusement center, and came with all the joys that a 7-Eleven normally provides and exactly what you would expect from a place of that caliber. The Slushee was tasteee and the stickeee-ness was included. The pink doughnuts were available to purchase and a slew of Simpson memorabilia as well. I think the best part was the lady behind the counter with the expression of the Customer Service Employee of the Year. She slouched with a scowl as she watched the children drinking from the slurpee spout and the half melted doughnut was squished in the carpet leading outside into the 107* heat. As I asked her if she was enjoying her day, she rolled her eyes and handed my change saying "Thank you... come again" in a not so Abu tone. I wish I had her job. :)

So, along with millions of other Americans, I've been Simpsonized. What a great way to pass the time, right? HA HA HA.

Starting Over

Apparently, because it's been so long since I used blogger, I can't remember my stinkin' password. So, I had to start over. I suppose it's a good thing. I began posting on that other one at twntysumthng when I moved here to Las Vegas over a year ago. So much has happened since then. Although I still feel plagued by bugs, I definitely owe everything I know to T.V., and the incessant movie talker still deserves a swift kick from the Russian lady my life has taken quite the turn. Since moving to Vegas, I have met the most wonderful man, gotten a job in a wonderful elementary school, started my Masters, and made some great friends. It's too hot to think (but not for the cockroaches), but I've been having a great time getting used to the city life. I hope that things will continue this way and I'll keep having the time of my life. In the mean time, I'll try to write and keep things posted here.