The Fried Chicken Chronicles

So apparently you cannot get fried chicken in this town, after 10pm. Let me start by saying "I think that's ridiculous!" It's not often that I get a hankerin' for some fried chicken, but I had just gotten off work and was hungry.....and I wanted some chicken. Simple, right? Wrong. Let me set the stage for you. I live in Broken Arrow. It's a nice little city/town just to the east of Tulsa. We have everything Tulsa has, and the Tulsa/B.A. line gets very fuzzy right around 71st and Big Shopping Center District....so we kind of have the best of both worlds. I live in a nice neighborhood. I have never not felt safe....which is why I'm not sure why my mind went to where you will soon see it went. Second thing.....I have never been to a Popeye's Chicken. In my mind, Popeye's Chicken = North Tulsa. Throw eggs at my house, call me mean, whatever....that's just the way my mind works. I mean, that's not why I've never been to a Popeye's....I just don't ever remember one being around my house. No, I'm not a Popeye snob. It was more to do with geography. So....here I am on a Saturday night, overworked, tired, hungry, etc. I just want some fried chicken!! It hits me that there is a KFC right by my apartment. I head straight there. I didn't see it, and was beginning to think I was mistaken...that maybe it was on a different street. Nope, I didn't see it because all the lights were turned off and the only people in the lobby were four workers who were posing for pictures in front of the counter. No lie. They could pose for pictures, but they couldn't make me some chicken?! Not one to give up easily on my dreams, I see a Popeye's across the street. I figured it was fried chicken and it was probably good, and I'd be safe because this is Broken Arrow! All the Popeye's lights were on, and I drove around to the drive thru, seeing that there was a worker inside. Score!! So I'm sitting at the drive thru, perusing the menu....because as I've stated previously, I have never been to a Popeye's. I sit there for a minute or two, and thought I saw a shadow out of the corner of my eye. I chalked it up to my nerves, me sitting at a Popeye's at 10:50pm....then I had the random thought, "omigosh, can you imagine getting mugged at a Popeye's drive thru, in Broken Arrow?" 20 seconds after that thought, I hear a very deep, masculine voice say "Ma'am?" Now let me paint you a picture of what happened directly after that......my brain completely left my body. I don't know what happens to your mind when you become so startled, but it wouldn't have been much different had paddles been put to my chest and charged to 240. I jumped in my seat, as my hand began to immediately flutter against my chest. Flutter. Not like, hit my chest once as in "wow, you really scared me," but it was as if my hand had suddenly become a parakeet trapped in a windowed room and could not escape. My voice came out something like this: "HUB-BU-BU-BU-BU-BU" and sounded alot like someone who was going down the stairs on their back. The poor "mugger," who was a blonde haired, blue eyed teenager immediately felt HORRIBLE, and was apologizing all over the place. My brain returned, and realized this nice young man was wearing a Popeye's uniform (all black, which is why I couldn't see him!), and was probably coming to tell me either a) their drive thru speaker was broke, or b) they were closed. I was sincerely hoping for option A. I realized I was still making gasping noises and finally got out "Aaarrr youuuu cc-ccc-closed?" Because by this time, to add to all that is going on in my body, I am laughing hysterically at myself. The young chicken maker tells me ,yes, they are closed. So I finally calm down, all the while still being apologized to. I say to him "I was fixin' to grab whatever I could in this car. You're lucky you weren't within reaching distance." Ya....I totally would have grabbed something....after my brain returned two minutes later in which the mugging would have already been over. What have I learned from this escapade? Fried chicken is harder to get after 10pm than plutonium; even though I live in B.A., I still expected to get mugged at Popeye's; and I probably now have permanent heart arhythmia.

Rich Men

Perusing Facebook this evening, I noticed one of those advertisements on the right hand side. I usually ignore them, but this one caught my attention and simultaneously made me laugh out loud. "Be a rich man's princess! Sign up on richmen.com." Now, that's a loaded sentence if I've ever heard one! Naturally, I had to go to richmen.com to check out exactly what they were about. My suspicions were correct....it's an online dating service that caters to the ahem....wealthy. Their tag line is "Rich Men. Where the wealthy hookup." I'm not wealthy. Heck, I'm kind of unemployed actually...although I just got a summer job at Barnes & Noble's. But what would stop me from signing up and logging on as a wealthy woman seeking a soul mate? Absolutely nothing. However, I do have class and that's where I draw the line. I would never do that, but it got me thinking......how many wealthy people are accurately represented on there? If we are talking statistics, then maybe we'd better be ready to locate because according to online sources, Hawaii has the largest number of millionaires, followed closely by states such as Maryland, Virginia, Alaska and last but not least, California. Oklahoma didn't make it to the top ten. In fact, are you curious where Oklahoma fits in on the millionaire list? Sure you are..... Oklahoma is.....low. There are approximately 21,000 households in Oklahoma City that are considered millionaire households. And that is the only city represented in Oklahoma. There's a map that goes along with this statistic and the dot was so small in Oklahoma that I had to zoom in on it about four times. You may look at that number and think "wow, that's a whole lotta millionaires!" Considering the population, however, it's really not. And I'm betting that all 21,000 of those individuals are not "hooking up" on richmen.com. My guess is that site is full of men and women who portray themselves as something other than what they are. I could pull of rich......I could. Until they saw me drive up in my 1999-250,000-mile-beater. What will the internet come up with next?? There's no telling.

Chips, Old Men, and a Really Old Car

I have a super busy day today, but I had to take time out and write while the creative monologue was running through my head. The tale begins with some bragging. Have I mentioned how much I love Reasor's? I have never, not once, gone into that store without being asked if I need any help. From the produce guy, who is ALWAYS working in the produce department, to the store director. They are the most helpful place on the planet. Then they went and partnered up with QuikTrip....which is my other favorite place (my brother says there will be a QT in Heaven)....and if I spend $50, I get 5 cents off each gallon of gas I purchase...anyway...it's a swell place. Today was no different. I saw a worker taking two, rather large cardboard shelves into the back of the store. I stopped the very helpful store director and asked "are those Frito Lay shelves being thrown away?" At his response of "yes, I think so," I asked him if I could please have one, as I was a teacher and the cardboard unit would make an awesome addition to my classroom. He promptly went and retrieved a shelving unit for me and graciously took it to the front of the store for me, as well. My mind was filled with ideas of how I would paint all the cardboard black, add a few artistic-cricket-cut-out appliques, spray lacquer it and make it my new art shelf! My mind conveniently forgot the part between taking it out to the car and getting it home. But I'm one of those women who, when she has an idea, it usually works out. I know people who are exactly the opposite and I haven't figured this out yet. I mean, I've had some CRAZY ideas.....but they almost always come to fruition. So I knew the shelf was going to be a success, however I began to have some doubts as I headed to my car with one hand pushing the cart and the other wrapped around the mess of cardboard. I was parked very near the front, and set my grocery cart next to the rear bumper, looked at the contraption I had just scored from my favorite supermarket, and began to navigate my way through breaking it down. Let me back up....I had already lifted it up as if I was going to put it in the backseat and that was immediately shot down by the sheer size of the shelving unit. So my next thought was I was probably going to have to break it down. Now here is where the real story happens. I nonchalantly glance up and out in front of the drive-up loading dock, I see two old-timers gabbing. They were looking in my direction, obviously seeing this large, probably four and a half foot tall cardboard, Frito Lay shelf that had once held chips and was now going to hold school supplies, in their parking lot while leaning their forearms on empty carts, making themselves comfortable while hunkering down to watch the show. It was as if two, weathered old men had paused their checkers game out in front of the country store, so they could watch a fool woman mess around with the contraption that was too big for her wagon. As I opened my trunk and simultaneously became very self-conscious, I began to chide myself and think "they're not really looking at you. They're probably just gazing out at the parking lot." It was a large job, to talk myself down from that emotional ledge that I was about to jump off of in a hysterical state, but I did talk myself down and was determined to shrug off the thought that they might be watching me. However, their voices which carried on the slight breeze gave me pause, "I will never understand women. I just can't figure what goes through their minds..." So now I was ticked. And at that moment, after slamming the trunk shut with a decisive thud, I KNEW I was going to get this shelf in my car. As I began to break it down, I noticed there were industrial sized staples holding the sides together. I was really concerned because I did not want to wreck this shelf. So realizing my groceries were sitting in the hot sun, I paused and loaded the car with my groceries. I also noticed the sun had grown 35 times hotter than it had been 8 minutes ago. It could be it was just my blood pressure. Seeing no other way to do it, I began to gently pull apart the sides and break the shelf down even further. As I was accordion folding the now defunct shelves, a woman came out to her car, which was parked next to me. She said "that looks complicated." I realized this was my chance. I said (probably a little too loudly), "I'm a teacher and this cardboard mess is going to make an AWESOME shelving unit for my classroom." The woman gave a slight nod of her head as if to say "to each his own, but I really hope you don't talk that loud in your classroom." I finished folding the shelf and pranced around to the back passenger door, and yes, I really did prance. Their was a bounce to my step for good reason. I had succeeded! I stuffed the shelf into my backseat, none the worse for wear and looked up expecting to see the old men nod their heads in submissive amazement at my feat of great wonder! They were gone. Maybe they left when they heard me yell at the woman parked next to me. Or maybe they realized once those staples came out, I could actually fold the thing to a manageable size. Either way, I was sad they missed my grand finale. Ol' Betsy has sure put up with alot from me over the years. But she has remained ever faithful. I may not be able to count on the kind words of strangers, but I can count on my really old car. And my sheer genius. Here's the before pic. I'll post an after pic when I'm finished with it.

Can o' Worms #1

My title obviously has hinted at the fact that this blog will open a big, ol' can of worms. And that's completely okay. How boring would it be if we all had the same opinions and views? Very. Please feel free to express your opinions in the comment section of this blog. You will not offend me, I don't think. :0) Homosexuality and Marriage. Now, first of all, let me say that I've been thinking about this topic quite a bit. This topic bears, what seems like, constant news coverage. Everyone has a heated opinion on it. So I'm going to give you mine! I am not a homosexual. I was raised to believe that homosexuality was wrong, that it was a sin. Unfortunately, I was raised in a time in which we treated homosexuals like second class citizens. We, for too long, hated the sinner and their sin, instead of loving the people and allowing Christ to transform their lives. So Christiandom has effectively shot themselves in the foot when it comes to homosexuals. They pretty much want nothing to do with conservative, Christians. And rightly so. Would you want to listen, take advice from, or be friends with a group of people who constantly attacked you and your lifestyle? Of course not! You're gonna go hang with the crowd that likes you for who you are and tells you "hey, you're okay!" Question: Shouldn't we, as followers of Christ, have been the ones to say "hey, I don't agree with your lifestlye, but you know where I stand and I'm still gonna love you?" Answer: Yes. But we didn't. Let me say this....I'm not a liberal Democrat. Even if I were, I could still love Jesus. I know some of you don't agree with that, but nowhere in the Bible does it state that we have to choose the correct political party in order to enter into the Kingdom of Heaven. So now we live in a world where society has continued to decay, all manner of sin and evil exists, and the homosexuals are hurt, fighting mad, and want their place in the sun. They want to be recognized. They do not want to be treated like second class citizens. I kind of get that. I put myself in their shoes. If Christians were mistreated (and I realize they have been for centuries, but here in America, we honestly know nothing of real persecution), if I were made fun of, if people looked down their nose at me because they didn't agree with how I lived my life, if they told me my beliefs were wrong and I couldn't attend their gatherings.....would I be mad enough to push MY agenda in their face? Yes. Having said all that, I don't want my future children growing up in a world in which homosexuality is an accepted lifestyle. Because I believe that God intended marriage to be between one man and one woman. The truth is, homosexuality is listed as a sin, among many, many others. Many sins in which I commit, you commit, we all commit sometimes on a daily basis! How is it different, really? We say sin is sin is sin....but do we really mean that? We treat homosexuality as a much larger sin than I believe God ever really intended. I think it stems from the fact that we don't understand having feelings for someone of the same sex. It seems unnatural to me. And it is. There's no disputing that. But how do I proceed? What I mean is......I don't agree with it, but if the Great Commission is to win the lost....and I believe homosexuals are lost....how will I win them? Will I win them with the shenanigans of the Self-Righteous Baptist Church who, out of anger and rage, protest everything with handheld signs? Will I win them by ignoring them? But maybe the question is......do I want to win them at all?? Are we too scared to sit down at the table with the tax collectors, in order to show them love? What if someone sees me at that table full of tax collectors and assumes I am a tax collector myself? Can't the tax collectors find their own way to Jesus, without my help? I just don't know.

Bad Teacher

If we are all being honest with ourselves, we've all had a moment where we've fantasized about reaching back with a mammoth-sized bouncy ball in our hands, taking aim at the problem child sticking their tongue out at us and letting loose with a mean curve-ball that ends the impromptu dodge-ball game that began in our mind when one of our students calls us "deaf."
But I'm not speaking from experience or anything.....
If you're a teacher, you're probably laughing. If you're a parent, you're probably agreeing. If you're a new parent, or parent to be, you're probably appalled. Just wait, my friend....you'll get there.
Now, I joke about dodge-ball knowing that I would NEVER in a million years actually play dodge-ball while using one of my students as target practice.
Nevertheless, I laugh when I recall the commercial for the movie "Bad Teacher," as Cameron Diaz winds up and pitches at a student's face. Because that's exactly what a bad teacher thinks about.....and today, I learned that's probably what a normal teacher thinks about too.
At week twenty, I don't expect much out of my students....you know, bring your pencil to class, bring paper, sit down at your desk, learn what I teach you (okay, so yes...I expect more of them that that, I'm writing with tongue-in-cheek humor).
My fifth graders do a combination of none of those.
Many of them do not bring the most basic supplies to class.....
"Where's your pencil, little Bobby?"
"Oh, Ms. Johnson! I KNOW someone stole it out of my locker. I don't have it and I had it yesterday."
Now, knowing my students as I do I can almost guarantee that a) they've left it in another classroom, b) it's buried in their locker somewhere, or c) they haven't had their own pencil since Christmas, since they've been borrowing from me and they finally lost THAT one.
"So you don't think you've dropped it somewhere or its in your locker underneath piles of stuff?"
"No, Ms. Johnson. It's not there. Someone stole it."
So begins my day.....
It's interrupted by a sixth grader informing the class that "she's deaf!"
No, child....I was looking at the gradebook trying to figure out who can't seem to get their work turned in on time and just didn't hear you.
My day ended on a high note....did I just say high note? I meant low note. Very low note.
I couldn't finish teaching the lesson because of the talking, laughing and general disruption.
Which makes me sound like a BAD TEACHER. My classroom management skills are in fact, I feel, really good. I've just been uh,...blessed....with a class that has managed to drive each teacher they've had to their knees in utter fear and overwhelment...is that a word??
So yes, I would have gladly lobbed a dodge-ball into an unsuspecting fifth grader today. No question about it.
The one shining moment.....I was able to make those disruptive boys cry.
All it took was the threat of swats.
Which they'll receive in the morning.
Country schools....god bless em'!