All the kids in her class gets daily progress report grades where a GD is a good day. You either get a GD or you get one of ten worse grades for not sitting down or yelling or throwing stuff. Emerald has gotten one "sitting up in class" and the rest GDs. The teacher, who loves to rant and rave about how great she is, regularly tells the rest of the class that Emerald is the only one in class who pays attention. I am regularly proud of her and can't stop telling her how much I love her. I am honored to be her daddy.
-Last night at around 8:00 pm Emerald challenged GWA champion Sexxxy Natasha Galindo right before bed. It was an intense two minute long bedroom match but when all was said and done the champion successfully defended her title. Emerald cried and we had to teach her that you don't always win. What a heartbreaking lesson to teach to a four year old.
-I have a top secret white man persona that only about three people in the world know about, myself included. His name is Steve Schmoekle. He's middle aged, white, with wavy short hair and perfect teeth. He has a chiseled jaw and his eyes have perfect vision. He has three kids that are now teenagers and preteens and they all hate his guts. He's in insurance and he plays golf. He's thinking of getting a motorcycle and a leather jacket. He uses white people phrases like "Alrighty then" and "Good buddy" and "Ten-four." He reads salesman books like "Rich Dad, Poor Dad" and "Who Moved My Cheese." He cares about unimportant things like driving routes and where to buy a good suit. He owns his own golf clubs. He owns many ties. He doesn't give a second thought about George Bush or politics or global warming because he's Steve Schmoekle and he doesn't care about anyone else but himself.
It's comforting for me, to slip into my careless white guy persona and see what the world's like when you're not aware of the world's problems. Natasha absolutely hates it when I slip into Steve Schmoekle. I use him a lot at work, though, when some fat white middle aged bitch comes into my kids section and I have to greet her. I find myself subconsciously switching to Steve Schmoekle and his deep, professional voice and perfect posture. I use him in the hopes that my white businessman voice will calm customer's fears of my brown male self. I know that's bad. I've been trying to rid myself of Steve Schmoekle and just be MYSELF with customers at work. It's an uphill battle but I've been doing good so far.
And yes, I know that makes me sound like I'm crazy.
-Went and drank at Gwen's house a few nights ago. The first night Natasha played the Wii and kicked ass at Wii Sports. She's a natural. Plus it's great to watch Natasha giggle as she moves around with the wii-mote. I actually didn't play because I felt extremely intimidated by it and its motion sensor. But the next day we hand lunch and hung out some more and I beat Natasha once at tennis and once at bowling. The Wii is totally f-in awesome and if I had money I would totally buy the hell out of it.
-I went to the doctor's yesterday. There are a lot of things wrong with me like my breathing and my stomach and my headaches and my chest pains and my blinding white headaches. I was hoping they could fix me and most importantly I was wishing that finally a doctor would take me seriously. Which they did. VERY seriously. They gave me an EKG which I passed. They also set me up to take a few chest x-rays tomorrow. I also have to take a multitude of tests within the next four weeks which include but are not limited to getting blood taken, taking a piss test, and saving my own poop so I can swab it and have it tested. Which I've done before. Which is the complete opposite of fun. Humiliating is the word for it. So my docs have a few theories as to what's wrong with me. It might be some serious chest problems but that's a long shot. It's probably either intense stomach problems or it might be the beginnings of a few ulcers or it might be lung problems. Or it might be all of them. Or it might just be stress and anxiety and depression, which I have, especially come christmastime.
So now I'm on two different kids of inhalers, one that comes in powder form that I'm incredibly afraid of using. I'm also on this special nasal inhaler and pills for my stomach pains and ... (drum roll) ... ANTI-ANXIETY MEDICATION! Yup, Reverend Steve is on pills! Super duper knockout happy pills! I was having another chest pain thing at work this morning and took one. WELLLLL about a half hour later, having eaten nothing and having never taken the happy pill before, I found myself tripping balls, sweating, acting extremely cracked out and somehow being able to see through time and space. Yeah. Steve has happy pills. Hell yeah!
Me and Natasha and Marisa are now a gang called THE HAPPY PILL POSSE. You try and mess with us and we'll think about kicking your ass and then just take a few pills and just forget about every damn thing that worries us. How awesome is that?