Here Comes the....STRESS!!

I think I mentioned in my last post that I've had these two day-long workshops related to teacher mentoring for next year. As I sat there yesterday, watching the hours ticking away, and thinking of the things I could have been doing instead, I was pretty anxious.

After the workshop, I went over to pick up my dress. It had been steamed and was all wrapped in a plastic bag. Since the last fitting had been just two weeks before, the ladies in the shop said it was good to go. They did advise me to take it out of the plastic bag to avoid condensation in this extreme heat.

Upon getting it to E's place, I did remove it from the plastic and could not resist the urge to try it on one more time. I have to say, I wasn't terribly happy with what I was seeing.

The spaghetti straps, which I had added to increase my comfort level in the dress, seemed to have been thrown on willy-nilly, as an afterthought. There wasn't much logic to their placement, and they certainly didn't sync in seamlessly as part of the design. It looked pretty obvious that they were just thrown on there at the last moment. Also, the straps were way to loose, meaning that even just standing there at rest, they kept looping over the sides of my shoulders and falling off.

Great...so the option was to either keep pulling up a strapless gown all night, or to do endless battle with enormous, ill-placed straps. Normally, when I have some little "wardrobe malfunction" of that sort, I think, "Ah, who the hell is going to be looking at me anyway?" and I wear the item in question anyway. However, the point of having a wedding is that people kind of look at you.

So, I tried tucking the straps away to see if wearing it strapless might not be the better option after all. No dice there. The front line of the dress, across my chest, had this huge pucker in it. If I looked down, I could see straight down to my bra.

I called the shop and they told me to bring in the dress.

The woman who altered it last time was working. When she looked at the dress, it was almost like an alien abduction thing. She didn't deny doing the original work on the dress, but she looked as if she couldn't possibly understand what had come over her when she had done it.

Out came the razor blade and the straps were cut off, repositioned, and completely re-fitted. She said they were an entire inch too long. Ahhh...that seems rather significant to me.

Then, she ended up having to pin off the whole front and she is going to recut that and refit it. Jesus, I was a wreck going to pick it up yesterday, hoping it would fit. Now I'm even more nervous because she's cutting stuff off the dress, so if she effs up again, there's no turning back.

Also, the woman mentioned that my bra was "all wrong." Again, I have worked with this woman about three times and believe me when I tell you that there are no secrets between me and this woman. She has seen more of my body than even my doctor has. She has reached her entire arm down this very bra countless times, and has made no mention of it being "all wrong." She was the one who gave my 78 dollar Spanx the old heave-ho, too, so she hasn't been shy about giving undergarment advice in the past.

Now, I have to go to Lady Grace again today and pray that they have something I can work with.

Oh, and as another little pleasant aside, the bra that I currently have, which I've worn for a total of 15 minutes over the course of my fittings, has a bone popping right out of the middle of it. I do have the receipt, but the tags are off and it has been three months since I purchased it. I'm probaby shit out of luck there, but I am going to bring it in and ask them to exchange it for at least something else.

Christ.

So glad all this is happening on the day before the wedding!!

I know, I know...every couple has last minute crap to do in the last minutes before a wedding, but Jesus!

Random Observations

I am having a glass of wine as I write. So wonderful on this hot night!!


I am sitting here in my sweltering apartment (which I actually quite like, by the way), and reflecting upon the fact that this is my last Wednesday as a single woman. I will be Mrs. K. in just three days.

Strange.

And yeah, I am going to change my last name. I wasn't sure whether I would do that or not, but when I asked Stephen about his thoughs on the subject, he confessed that he always imagined that if he got married, his wife would take his last name. That said, Stephen, being the extremely liberal, forward-thinking person that he is, was certainly not insistent or demanding about the thing. He was just telling me how he felt. If I had told him that I wanted to stay Nancy B., he wouldn't have cared in the least.

But, truth be told, I hate the fact that my first and last name are both twy syllables and each ends in the "ey" sound. Yuck. When I hear people say my first and last name together, it annoys me. I can't explain why. Marriage and a name change will remedy that situation sure enough.

Ha ha.

Anyway, I had mentor training in my school district today. I think I may have already written about this. I basically get paid to be the person who answers questions for new colleagues in the building. Jesus, I have been doing that for free for years anyway. Might as well get paid for it. I had though, prior to today, that the stipend for this position was 1200 dollars. Turns out, it is 2400 dollars. That in addition to the 1,000 dollars I get paid for packing my boxes for our upcoming move to the new school, and the 1,000 I get paid for unpacking said boxes in the new school. Jesus...I love being on a city payroll.

I don't feel like getting into all of this, but because of a state-sanctioned change in the status of my particular area of certification, I have to go through a recertification process that could run me 2500 dollars. Christ. What a joke. I was pissed enough to think that I would probably think about leaving teaching. But seriously...for all the benefits of being on that city payroll, this certificatoin headache (and it will be a headache), will be well worth it in the end.

Ok, enough about that.

Wedding stuff...

I bought a really cute pair of little white fancy flip-flops for the wedding. Sure, I will wear the little heels for the ceremony and the pictures and such, but Lauren popinted out that I might want a pair of cute COMFORTABLE little flip flops for the party portion of the day. Great idea!

This just in...

Stephen and I have these two neighbors (a lesbian couple) whom we have really come to like very much. They have come by a few times to borrow butter for baking or whatever. We chat when we see them around. Anyway, last night, one of the women came by to see if we could help her assemble a fan she'd bought. Her partner was out of town and they had not yet put in their AC. We ended up putting the fan together and had a beer with her. It was fun. Anyway, she just knocked on the door and presented me with a six pack of Sam Adams Summer in the way of a thanks for our help. Too nice. Very unnecessary, but quite appreciated. It is a comfort knowing that we have such nice neighbors whom we could depend upon if we needed something.

Ok, back onto my other random thoughts.

On the T today, a father and son (the kid was about 12) were pointing out and oogling at attractive women. Is this just sick? Maybe I'm just jealous because I was not one of the chosen women. Hmmm...

And finally, I know Lauren brought this up in her blog at one point, but I'm going to revisit the issue, let's talk about the toilets in womens bathrooms being completely covered in piss. Jesus, I can understand it in public bus stations or train temrinals or something, but I swear, every single time I go into my gym (which is a very high-end, almost-100-per-month establishment) every single toilet is covered in piss. Ladies, just sit the fuck down. What is this??

Live from the Watertown Public Library

It is 95 degrees outside and I'm coolin' in the Watertown Public Library. Why not the beach, or the backyard pool, you ask? Well, at noon today I had a dentist appointment here in Watertown. Stephen works here in Watertown, and since we're due to the Inn to make final wedding reception arrangements, we figured we'd just meet up at his work and go together.

I'm sure I mentioned in an earlier post that Stephen's car was stolen from right in front of our building. This had to have been about three weeks ago now. At least. The thing that really bothers me about these morons who stole the car, is that they get to literally walk away from the entire thing scott free, while Stephen has to be held responsible for a 500 dollar insurance deductable, and we are left to suffer the slings and arrows of having no car. We are normally fine without the car, and often don't use it for days on end, but at this point, it would be nice to have one available to us.

So, anyway, I decided against coming to Watertown, leaving, and then turning right back around and battling the bus to come all the way back. Seemed stupid. So, we have to meet at his work, take a bus to a Zip Car, take the Zip Car to Concord, drop off the Zip Car, take the bus to Harvard Square where we'll connect to our final bus home.

Can you see why I am starting to hate the jerks who stole the car?

I was walking around outside, but the heat was getting to me. You won't often hear me say that. So I came into the library and have decided to use the internet here while I kill some time.

There are some poor slobs waiting to use the computers, likely for far more worthwhile pursuits than pointless blogging. Perhaps I'll give them a go on the computer. My time is up anyway.

I like this blogging on the road, thing.

Super Sleuths Are On To Me!

So, it would appear that Reesie and Laurita have both cracked the seemingly impenetrable mystery of where and for whom I am working this summer.

As Reesie would put it, "the store that isn't called 'Orange'" has been an interesting adventure so far. I have had two days of corporate style brainwashing/training and one day of in-store training. Actually, the in-store was more of an abbreviated, 5-hour shift in which we learned more about the actual store than the company itself. I have another full day tomorrow, but won't quite yet be on the sales floor in my full capacity as (I'll rhyme here in order to continue to keep things covert) "Nac Pestialist." I will apparently be in the back room, using a "Nac" to do an online training, complete with quizzes, to learn as much as I possibly can about the "Nac" and "eyeDod" families. Yeah, they're called famlies. I wasn't clever enough to make that up.

To be honest, I'm just psyched about the fact that other than the required company t-shirt, I can wear what the hell ever I want to work. Shorts. Jeans. Skirt. Flip-flops. Whatever. I still haven't been given one of the abovementioned t-shirts, but I think they'll hold off on that one until I'm actually on the salesfloor. They have super-cute ones right now, touting the impending arrival of the product which will be launched on June 29th.

Anyway, it should be an OK job. I'll let you know more about it as I get further along. (In cryptic overtures, of course.)

I should run. Stephen and I have lots of lists to make of the many things that we still have to do before the wedding.

T minus 6 days and counting.

The Two Best Reasons for Becoming a Teacher....July and August!

There is nothing better than school vacation. Sure, I end up working and trying to hustle up some cash to survive for the two months off, but still...not having to face a full day's teaching every day is such a great feeling. Mind you, I enjoy teaching and I like the kids and what have you, but I just LOVE school vacation!

The last day of school was an unheard of early-bird June 14th. There are lots of reasons to celebrate the close of this particular school year.

First of all, there's the insanely early relase date I just mentioned.

Secondly, there's the fact that this is our last year in our temporary holding facility. The new school will be open in Sepetember. And it is gorgeous! I was on the design committee and heavily involved in decisions regarding color, materials, paint, furnishings, etc. It was a pain in the neck sometimes to go to the meetings, but walking through the place has blown me away. I can't wait to take up residence in my new classroom. I'll actually have real cabinetry and a beautiful desk. At my current location, the pipe behind my storage closet rotted out early last year, thus leaving me to resort to using stacks of milk crates to house my books. Beautiful. It always looked so professional for parent conferences. Thank god no parents show up to conferences at my school. Then I'd really have reason to be embarassed. Now my embarassment is purely theoretical in the hypothetical sense of "What if a parent ever turned up for parent conferences and saw these 'shelves.'"? You get my drift. Although the picture shown below is not an actual snapshot of the dumpy state of my temporary classroom, I think it does a fairly accurate job of illustrating the work conditions I've suffered for the past two years.



Yeah, the new school is going to be a much welcome change.

And thirdly, we get paid 3 days worth of our yearly salary for packing up the boxes on this end of the move, and three days pay for unpacking the boxes on the other end of the move. This will work out to about 1,118 for me both this summer and again in the Fall. I love being on a city payroll. And althogh I can often be heard loudly complaining about the fact that I was never provided with any matierals or books to teach social studies, I must admit to having been delighted to find that I had a total of six boxes to pack in order to complete my entire move. I did let guilt take hold and I helped other colleagues, but still...

The last day was filled with joy and sadness as our 8th graders prepared to take leave of us and venture onto the high school. However, any tears quickly gave way to shouts of "PARTY!!" as the kids pulled away on the school bus-come party van on that last day.




I've been very busy ever since the release from school.

The kids got out on Thursday, but we had professional development on Friday. On Saturday and Sunday, I had my corporate training (I mean, BRAINWASHING) for my new job. I am hereby literally banned from ever mentioning the name of my new employer on this or any website for the duration of my time working for them. Honestly. I had to sign confidentiality agreements, and in anticipation of a new product which will hit the market on the 29th, I have had to give my cell phone over at work every day in order to allow the managers to keep tabs of camera phones and shit. Anyway, on Monday and Tuesday, I had to do my packing at school. On Wednesday and Thursday I had tons of errands to do. Then yesterday, Friday, I had my first in-store shift at my new company. This weekend is time to rest and get some wedding stuff done. Monday, back to work at the store for further training. Wednesday and Thursday I have day-long workshops for school. Friday is wedding rehersal.

Saturday......WEDDING!

A Jones-Tastic Evening!

Last night was my big bachelorette party. The party itself wasn't a secret. Lauren planned it, and she told me the date and time and all the essential details up front. In fact, I provided her a lot of my friends' contact into, etc. Hell, she even told me where the thing was going to take place. I was all prepared for a quiet, mellow night out with some girlfriends. A few drinks. A bit to eat. A few laughs. Sounded perfect.

I arrived at the bar, Madison's on the Avenue, at the appointed hour of 6:30 and immediately noticed my friends, Peter and Michael, standing there. Hmmm....I was a bit surprised by their presence. After all, Lauren had claimed that it would be all girls. It didn't take me long to realize that Meg's boyfriend, Jon, was also in the house, as were Stephen, and Gene, the designated DJ.

As soon as I entered, Gene started spinning some Tom Jones..... a perfect party kick-off if you ask me.

I thought that the Jack and Jill nature of the party might be the extent of the surprise, but even as that thought crossed my mind, my eyes were panning the room, and realizing that there were even more little treats in store.

First of all, a whole collection of old Tom Jones record album covers adorned the walls, showing Jones in a variety of poses and showcasing the variety in his personal styles throughout the span of his decades-long career. There was "sausage in the pants Jones," "Roman-God-being-fed-grapes-by-voluptuous-women Caesar's-Palace Jones," "Contemplative Profile with Mutton Chops Jones" and, of course, "hairy-chested shirtless Jones." These record albums would serve two purposes. First, of course, they were there to decorate the dump. Secondly, later in the evening, there would be a contest where the winners would be allowed to select a Jones album, in which various treats and prizes were hidden. This contest involved Lauren having written down little bits of information about me, and then giving the cards out to people. When I drew a phrase, name, place, the person with the matching card would be allowed to come select an album. I was lucky enough to win once, and I wasted no time in adding the Jones at Caesar's Palace album to my already vast empire of Jones nick-nacks, trinkets, and baubles.

Let me also make mention, right here, of the fabulous cake! Lauren and Trish were in cahoots to put this together. The photo of Jones in the banana hammock, lying there in his full glory, is just WRONG. Jesus, hasn't anybody ever told this clown about WAXING!!?? Becky had a point when she said that Jones could easily have been featured in the VH-1 show about celebs who should NOT be seen in swimwear in public. I think the "help yourself" banner is, quite literally, the "icing on the cake" here.





The even rolled along nicely. There was a great crowd of people, lots of good food, and a generally festive mood.

Still, though, even the genial atmosphere and the addition of my good guy friends to the party, did not constitute the full extent of the surprises Lauren had up her sleeve for this fiesta.

At one point, Maggie, who is planning her own wedding, approached me and engaged me in a very intense conversation about the slings and arrows of wedding preparations. I was so engrossed in what she was saying, and not envying her being in the initial planning phases, that I didn't even notice that there was some interesting activity taking place behind me.

I did hear a hideous bout of feedback coming from the sound system at one point, and immediately lept to the conclusion that Gene was tanked and being incompetent with the DJ equipment. I was going to turn around and bust his chops, but Maggie had me riveted, so I never got around to it.

Just as things quieted down behind me, Gene announced, "Ladies and Gentlemen, this is Tom Jones." Flummoxed, I turned around to see what was up. Why the hell was Gene announcing the arrival of Tom Jones?

Before I Had a chance to truly process that question, this Tom Jones impersonator walked out and took center stage, immedately lapsing into a rousing version of "Its Not Unusual." According to Lauren, in my initial phases of shock, I burst out with, "Jesus! Where the hell did you get this guy?" Apparently I said this right in the guy's face. But, he didnt' seem to be the least bit troubled or phased by it. I'm sure that when you eke out your livelihood by impersonating Jones, you hear that a lot.




Anyway, the above shows Jones just as he entered the room. The onlookers were obviously delighted with the performance. As you can see, the outfit was somewhat dubious (the sanitation worker jacket was a little strange), but I can assure you that the moves and the mannerisms were dead on. The guy could not have been more legit. It was hilarious!!!

Talk about shocking! I had no idea. Lauren kept asking me later if I really was utterly clueless before hand. I am not sure how I can guarantee her that I could never have imagined in my wildest dreams that Jones would show up at my bachelorette party!! Ha ha.



Here is a beautiful action shot, showcasing Jones and his masterful seranading/seduction skills. As you can well see, Lauren, Meg and I were swooning!



Here I am, cutting a rug with Jones! At least, I was trying to cut a rug. I couldn't hold a candle to this chump in the coreogreaphy department.



And finally, the above picture shows me and Jones doing a little duet together. I especially like the fact that the "Got Jones" shirt that Lauren ordered me specifically for the occasion was so prominently on display.

And by the way, yeah, I got Jones!

At any rate, the eats, the company, the entertainment, and the hooch were all first rate.

So...to Lauren, who organized the entire thing and really put a ton of effort into it...THANKS!!!

And to my lovely guests,

Lauren, Gene, Meg, Jon, Stephen, Liz, Kathleen, Bailey, Jackie, Faye, Becky, Reesie, Jules, Maryanne, Karen, Maggie, Maura, Sophia, Beth, E, Julie B., Peter, Michael, Barbara and Jenn (and if I've forgotten anybody I'm sorry!!), THANK YOU!!! It was a night I'll never forget.

Strate Up Bitches.

Let me just begin by saying that the bathrooms in my school are in a deplorable state. They are rotten. Filthy. Gross. Try as the janitor may (and he makes a valiant effort), he just cannot stay on top of the situation. The kids are constantly in there writing hideous things on the walls, stuffing rolls of toilet paper down the sinks and toilets, and just generally trashing the place.

Anyway, today one of my students told me that there was a "rude message" about me and my teaching colleague on the wall. I pretended not to care, but right after dismissal, I rounded up my colleague and we went down to search for the evidence.

We donned our haz-mat suits and made sure that our wills were up to date and then we ventured in.

The first thing I noticed was that since my last trip in there, the four stalls have been designated (unofficially by the students, of course) as grade level gossip stalls. The mean stuff about 5th grade students and teachers is confined to the first stall, the sixth grade to the second stall, etc. The seventh and eighth grade stalls are the third and fourth respectively.

In the 7th grade stall, one line of graffiti says, "I hate Ms. B (that's me) she's a bitch." The remark right next to it says, "Ms. B and Ms. L, STRATE UP BITCHES."

All my colleague and I could do was laugh and remind ourselves that we are, after all, middle school teachers. This is par for the course.

And to be honest, I'm pretty sure that I am a strate up bitch sometimes, so it can't be entirely undeserved.

Hardly a Dull Moment

Aren't weekends supposed to be relaxing? Well, this weekend has been anything but for me.

It all started Friday night when I had to not only attend a retirement party for a few of my colleagues, but I also had to make a "special presentation" to one of the honored retirees. Now, the thing is that this woman is absolutely lovely, and it was a pleasure and a delight to say a bunch of nice things about her in front of a big group of people. However, I really didn't feel like I could just go and relax and numb the slings and arrows of this group retirement function with a few glasses of cheap wine. I had to actually be on my toes enough to get up there and make a meaningful dedication to this woman in front of her entire family and colleagues past and present.

I was really aiming for some kind of speech that would capture the essence of this woman's very special way with kids and to do justice to the many years she dedicated to her students. Apparently I was successful in this endeavor because the woman's daughter was teary-eyed throughout the presentation, and her husband admitted to "having come close to shed a tear myself once or twice."

Anyway, never fear. I retired to the bar to partake of that cheap wine brain-numbing exercise immediately following my speech.

I forgot to mention that since the party started at 7, and since one of my colleagues and I decided we'd go together, we decided to motivate ourselves to stay around school from release time (2:30) until 6:30 in order to do some packing for our move to the new school.

Great idea.

The school has no air conditioning, and a tempermental elevator. I was packing crap books into heavy trash bags and hauling them down to the outside trash dumpster. It must have taken me about 20 trips up and down to get rid of half of the shit I need to dump. We were told that we can't put books directly into the trash dumpster because neighbors might see them and question why they are being thrown away. Best to keep them hidden in trash bags because I'm sure those neighbors would want the kids to continue learning from geography books that continue to list the GDP per capita of the United States as $11,000 and make countless references to "colored Americans" and "The Soviet Union."

Jesus.

Anyway, after all this work, I was disgusting. Luckily I had thought to bring a change of clothes, some facial cleanser, deodorant and some other "Irish Shower" essentials.

The retirement party went on until around midnight, and although it was very nice, I was practically asleep by the end of it.


We got some wedding stuff done this weekend.




We met with our very cool DJ and picked out the "essential dance" songs. I think we have some good ones. The DJ himself (after 28 years in the biz) was even impressed with some of our selections. We're doing the Phil Collins "Groovy Kind of Love" for the first dance. Always loved that one. We'll leave the rest of our selections a surprise. There's gotta be some element of excitement.




And the boys, Stephen, the Maniac, John and Gene, went to take care of the tuxedo business today. I did not accompany them. From their description, everything sounds like its on the up and up.




While the guys were out tux shopping, E and I watched my best girls, Allie and Caroline. They are both gorgeous, as you can clearly see. And that little spit-fire, Caroline, is getting more and more talkative evrey day. She's going to be reciting Shakespeare very soon!!! I love both of these kids so much.

Following the tuxedo adventure, Stephen, Gene and I sat and watched the Red Sox kick some Yankees pinstripied backside.



OK, I've got a baby shower to get through tomorrow. After that and a quick trip to the gym, I'm going to sit on my bum and do nothing for the remainder of Sunday evening.

Honeymoon in Vermont

Stephen and I have decided that our honeymoon should consist of a nice, leisurly trip through New England. It will feature a variety of lodgings (everything from a brief two day stay at "the cabin" at the beginning of the trip, to a random campground here and there, to a stay at the lovely Middlebury Inn in Middlebury, Vermont.

The above picture shows the porch at the Middlebury Inn. Why go to Middlebury, you ask? Well, I attended the Ecole Francaise de Middlebury College for my MA for 4 summers between 1996 and 1999, and I just fell in love with the place. I can't wait to go back. Vermont is a really gorgeous state...IN SUMMER! I have not had much experience with the place in winter. I'm happy to keep it that way.

The first summer I went to Middlebury (which we dubbed, "Club Midd" to make ourselves feel better about sacraficing so many summers working like slaves toward our MA), my mother and I drove up together. We stayed at the Middlebury Inn and were charmed. It is situated on Midd's pictoresque town green (and essential of all quaint New England towns, right?), and the laid back Vermont mentality.

I was totally enamored by the wrap around front porch, outfitted with comfy adirondak chairs that lend themselves perfectly to an evening of people-watching.

I asked Stephen if Middlebury could be a stop on our trip, and he was more than happy to comply. I'm also excited because the Midd summer session will have just started, so I can try to visit some old pals at the college.



Here's a picture of the front of the Inn.



These lovely chairs are situated on the back lawn. Perfect for wasting away an afternoon reading, sipping a glass of wine, dozing off, or just basking in the sun.



And here's my alma mater, Middlebury College. Many of my classes were held here in "Le Chateau." Yeah, that's the kind of building you get to have classes in when the price tag of the education reads like a phone number.




Here's Midd in the fall. I was never around for this view, but I believe it to be even more spectacular than even this photo could suggest.

thirty more days to go until the wedding.

Green Green Grass of Home

Another Monday mercifully over.

Aren't Mondays the worst? Today was particularly difficult to get motivated to go to work because finally, after 4 straight days of relentless, driving, horizontal downpours, the sun was out in force. It was the kind of day that you want to spend sitting in a park reading for hours on end. But, alas, it was back to work. Isn't that always the way?

But I have to say, as depressing as the rains were, it seems to have given way to a whole new, fresh, lush and vibrant world. The lawns and leaves are a green that defies this humble author's ability to decribe. I won't even try.

It is a little cool out there, but the air is fresh and clean and pregnant with an almost herbal fragrance. I'm loving life today.

I did lots of lounging around this weekend because hiding out under a warm blanket with a good book or sappy Lifetime movie was a much more attractive option when compared to going out in the monsoon rains. However, all productivity or notions thereof were not entirely lost this weekend. I managed to get my arse to the gym both days, and got the wedding flower order taken care of.



The above-pictured purple cala lillies will feature prominently in all floral arrangements.



And these purple roses (along with cream colored roses) should round out the bouquets very elegantly.

Let's hope purple was a good color choice. The Brattle Florist guy really usually knows his business, so we'll put our trust in his abilities and hope that he does not disappoint. Somehow, I cannot imagine that he will.

I also did some far less exciting stuff like clean my bathtub and try out my new wok with a pretty basic Asian chicken stir fry.

I had a meeting after school today, so no trip to the gym came to fruition, but I didn't mind the day off, to be honest. It was kind of nice to troll around after school and take care of a few errands.

Hey, I also opened up mine and Stephen's joint checking account today. That felt oddly adult and grown up.

Anyway, I'm gonna go finish watching the Sox/Yanks game. Things are not looking good for the Sox. Fingers crossed for a come-from-behind victory.

Huh?

I was on the train this morning, headed to the gym, when I noticed something that simply has to epitomize the word "Ironic."

I had never noticed this before because, knowing the T like the back of my hand, I have very little occasion to ever look at the map of the routes. But today, as the train (not surprisingly) stood halted for about ten minutes just three feet short of the station platform where I wanted to disembark, I found myself looking rather passively at the T map. I looked at the little legend to see what special features can be boasted at the various stations around the system. One of the little icons is the universal "handicapped" symbol, which indicates wheelchair accessibility.

Here's where the irony comes into play.

With the exception of one, every single station on every single line sported the little "handicapped" icon. Not bad, considering the fact that Boston's T is the oldest subway system in the nation. I guess they've gone out of their way to make sure that wheelchair bound people can access the full spectrum of the system.

Back to the ONE station that does not have wheelchair access. That station would just so happen to be LONGWOOD. What is so ironic about this, you ask? Well, anybody who lives in Boston probably already understands my shock and awe. For my more geographically far-flung readers, allow me to explain. Boston is a city of hospitals. The world's best hospitals are all located within a stone's throw of each other. And they are all located in a neighborhood of Boston called....you guessed it....
LONGWOOD.

Now I'll spell it out. The only station lacking wheelchair access is the very station that services the hospital district of the city.

I freakin' LOVE the T!!!

Apple of my Eye

I've decided NOT to teach summer school this year. It sucks. It may be decent pay for short hours, but the kids are hideous, the school is boiling hot, the administration could not be less supportive, and it affords me no break whatsoever from my day-in-day-out dealings with kids.

Every summer I say I'm not doing summer school. Every summer, I end up doing summer school.

This year will be different, however. I've purposely let the "apply by" date come and go for the summer school positions. I never even so much as glanced in the direction of the link to the online applications. Screw that.

But, of course, I am in no financial position to be a woman of leisure. That comes later in my teaching career. For now, I'm still one of the "yung'uns" who has to work her way through the summer vacation.

I was in the Apple Store a couple of weeks back and it dawned on me that it might be kind of fun to work there. So, I filled out an online application (they don't even have paper applications; they just gave me a little card thingee with the web address where I could apply. Of course...they're Apple. D'uh!) and was asked to come to a group interview this afternoon.

There were a few interesting things going on at the interview...

First of all, I was the lone woman among 4 male interviewees. However, the managers conducting the interview were both women.

I was wearing whatever I wore to work. Considering the fact that today is completely subarctic here in lovely New England, that would have been a pair of white Gap pants, a pink LL Bean sweater, and my red clogs. One of the guys was dressed in jeans, a button down shirt and a pair of hipster sneakers. He seemed to have the complete Apple look. Now, I know they say that you should always dress one level above what the company usually expects when you go on an interview, but considering the fact that Apple store employees galavant around with cheeky sayings on their t-shirts, and open-toe flip flops, the two guys who showed up in the 3 piece suits looked very nice, but a little out of place. Then there was the guy who showed up in the complete porn star/aging gangsta outfit. You know what I mean...the long, greasy braid going down his back, the shirt open three buttons so I could make out the slightest supconne of chest wig, the Mr. T. gold medallion starter kit, and the badly executed eyebrow piercing. Pathetic.

The aging gangsta showed up fifteen minutes late, took 3 calls on his cell phone (until the interviewer had to eventually tell him to turn the thing off), and continued to ask questions about the as-yet-unreleased Apple iPhone. He kept asking if there were any advance models, if, as an Apple employee, he'd be able to purchase one before the public, and whether there was any printed information with specs and other technical crap. Although the women told him over and over that Apple employees are literally kept in the dark as much as possible about new products (in the interest of copyright/trademark security), he kept asking questions in this vein.

When one of the managers asked us what, other than iLife applications we like to use on our Macs (and she specifically said, "other than the iLife suite...no not iPhoto, iTunes, etc), this asshole, even after listening to all of us talk about non-Apple suite products, said, "I love my iTunes!"

And, last but not least, when the other woman asked us to discuss a time when, as a retailer or in any service capacity, we could describe how we had successfully or unsuccessfully handled a situation, we all illustrated our strengths as customer service people by talking about how we'd put out fires on our jobs and left people feeling satisfied, or at least less upset than they had been when they came in. Aging gangsta started talking about how a salesguy at Best Buy was giving him a hard time. Ahhh....talk about missing the point, BOPO!

I don't know what'll happen. They said they would take three weeks to get back. Whatever. I'm not really holding my breath or awaiting too anxiously. There's always some idiotic job out there to be had. But I have to admit, the official Apple job title of "Mac Nerd" really appeals to me. The power of knowing how to do everything on the Mac is a little intoxicating. Sure, sure...I could help customers and earn a few bucks, but with the knowledge of the extensive Apple training, I culd unleash the full potential of my own Mac and then....well, I'll wake up the freakin' world!!

Anyway, I'll keep you posted.

My back's totally effed up today. Gotta get on the heating pad.

Gilmore Girls Series Finale...Must See At All Costs!

About a year ago, Reesie got me started on the Gilmore Girls. I'm not sure how that even evolved, but before I knew it, I had taken temporary possession of her entire Gilmore Girls DVD library and was oddly compelled to watch three, sometimes four episodes in one sitting.

I found myself enjoying the show immensly. I was quickly drawn to the quick-paced signature Gilmore banter, the ceaseless pop culture references, and the endlessly likable characters and their even more adorable small town, Stars Hollow. I was hooked. I even found myself going to Target to buy one of the seasons that Reesie was missing from her collection. I simply had to see how things worked out with Jess, Logan, Luke....or whatever gorgeous looking boy/man was haunting Loralei Senior and/or Junior.

Anyway, it was only through reading Reesie's blog last blog entry that I realized that the Gilmore Girls Glory was in its Swan Song final phases. Only two episodes left, she reported. Suddenly, I started to feel guilty. I haven't even watched all of the episodes this season. Do I even have the right to lay claim to Gilmore Girls departure sadness? Finally, I decided that I do, indeed, have the right to be sad at the loss of a great show. I can be, at once, a fair weather fan, and a mournful viewer. Why not?

I figure that at one point, Reesie and I will sit together and have a Gilmore DVD marathon, and I will eventually catch up on all the episodes I have missed.

The thing is, I'm going to stop commenting here for two reasons::

1. I don't want to spoil the final episode for anybody who hasn't seen it yet.

2. Reesie's entry will undoubtedly be far more heartfelt than mine, and will easily eclipse anything I have to say, both in conent and sheer literary talent.

I'll leave the true work of analysing the final Gilmore episode to Reesie, in other words.

I also thought I would note that it was so vital that I see the Gilmore Girls that I rushed home in order to do so. Well, I TRIED to rush home. I had to wait for the bus for over an hour, though, when it should have been there every 15 or 20 minutes or so. Christ.

And by the time it finally came, it was so freakin packed. It wasn't just packed from home-from-work commuters, either, but rather with people who had apparently just returned from an epic round-the-globe journey a la Shackleton. The amount of suitcases, trunks and other large, cumbesome luggage was unlike anything I'd ever seen in my life!




I thought about taking another bus, but then I remembered that some dealy had caused 3 previously scheduled busses from this route to miss their run. I decided against chancing it, and hopped aboard. After all, I had to say goodbye to Loralei, Rory, Kirk, Luke, Sookie...etc.

Back from the Big Apple

Stephen and I ventured into New York City for the weekend and had a great time!!

Stephen's godparents own a gorgeous home in Brooklyn Heights (the total Cosby Show neighborhood) and they graciously invited us to come spend the weekend at their place. They could not have been any kinder or more generous to us. We arrived on Friday evening, having taken the very relaxing and punctual Amtrak Acela train from Boston Back Bay to Penn Station. From there, we managed to very uneventfully catch a train to Brooklyn, and find their place without incident. In other words, the travel part was easy and surprisingly pleasant.

On Saturday morning, we got up, had a great breakfast with Murry and Shirley, and then hit the town. We left their place at around 9:30, and set out on foot to cross the Brooklyn Bridge to head into Manhattan.



The weather was awesome and the walk across the bridge was really beautiful. We obviously ended up in lower Manhattan, and from there, we walked all over the city. We hit Canal Street (China Town) where I partook of the illicit knock-off handbag trade, purchasing a fake Kate Spade purse, and a cheap-o Coach wristlet purse. Very cute. Very cheap.

Canal Street is really fun, but incredibly overwhealming. There are swarms of humanity crowding every square inch of the place. I was only able to handle the scene briefly, before pushing on to other crowded, but decidedly less insane areas of the city.

Our meanderings took us uptown, but we sort of stopped our northward trek at around 25th street. Going further uptown would have taken us to Times Square and midtown, but that wasn't what we were really interested in doing. We really wanted to check out the Greenwich Village area, and enjoy a trendy, but less cheesy part of town. Don't get me wrong, Times Square is awesome, and we were trolling around there before getting on our return train from Penn Station this afternoon, but for yesterday's strolling, we wanted to do something that we really hadn't done before.



We also really enjoyed Washington Square and the park. Very cute. Very beautiful in the picture-perfect weather.



And finally, to keep the Bon Jovi theme going, I have to post this picture of the absolutely massive 3 storey banner of Jon Bon Jovi hanging in the Virgin Mega Store in Times Square. He's been involved with some Kenneth Cole charity thing for a while now, and this is his latest sollicitation venture.

What a great way to end the trip to NY.

Ain't he Purty?

Idol Chit Chat

So, Jovi's on Idol tonight. I'm actually writing this in "real time." (Commenting during the commercials as the show is on.)

Jon Bon Jovi is just the quintessential nice guy, isn't he? He won't say anything negative about anybody. The one borderline disapproving thing he said was that he wasn't sure it was wise for the beatbox jerk to go 16 measures without singing on a show that is meant, after all, to showcase vocal talent.

I , of course, am hardly Saint Jovi, so I will definitely take advantage of this opportunity and use this forum to filet the contestants.

Let's start off with the Justin Timberlake wannabe guy with the bald head and the dead caterpillar eyebrows.

He did "Blaze of Glory" and was, I thought, pretty damn good. Of course, Simon was critical of his "bad actor impersonation" of a rock star.

But whatever, I didn't think the guy was that bad.

Then there was the 17 year old woman who was all psyched to meet Jon Bon Jovi because HER MOTHER is a big fan. Could I really be getting so old that my favorite rock singer is the hearthrob of the MOTHER of a 17 year old?

Anyway, she sang, "Livin' on a Prayer" and was, in my humble opinion, pretty crap. She was changing all the notes, and didn't even seem to be hitting the notes she set out to hit. She was slammed by Simon. At least she had the sense to agree with his criticism and admit that she was crap. I gotta give her some props for that.

Ok, then came LaKisha, who admittedly had never even heard a single Bon Jovi tune in her life. She's heard of them, but has never heard a single track by them. I thought that was pretty funny. Anyway, she did "This Ain't a Love Song." At the beginning, I thought she sounded like a dead fish, but she did really well at the end. Really well.

I thought they'd crucify her for sounding hideous at the beginning, but Simon actually kissed her. What the hell is up with that?

As for the beatbox dude doing the rap version of "You Give Love a Bad Name." Jesus, what was going on there? I can't believe he had the audacity to screw up a Bon Jovi classic. As Simon said, though, "half the audience will absolutely love it and half will absolutey hate it." Count me among the haters!!

Ok, now there is some guy I've literally never seen on the show before sounding like a dying cat and "singing" to Jovi's classic, "Dead or Alive." I think, based on this hideous performance, they should skip the voting and kick this asshole off the show right now. I envision some big hook coming out to the stage to drag him off into oblivion.

Randy is now calling the guy "baby" and admiring the "twists and turns" he placed on the song. Even Simon is being somewhat forgiving, giving the guy some wiggle room because this isn't his style of music.

Before the next person comes on, and while I have a minute to opine...

I've always thought of myself as being possessed of a "good ear." How else would I have become so good at speaking French? How would I have become fluent in German within a year of living there? As far as I am concerned, you can't learn a language with any proficiency unless you have an excellent ear to hear what people are saying. I think of myself as having a pretty good ear for music and such, too.

The thing, is, though, that I always think I can immediately tell that these people haven't hit a single correct note in a song or whatever, and that they sound like they're singing through the world's worst head cold. The ones that I think are the worst, are the ones who earn even the coveted kudos of Simon.

Then the ones I think are pretty good are systematically berated by the panel...even Paula.

Ok, so this woman Melinda just went and sang "Have a Nice Day." Jon Bon Jovi loved her. (He loved all the black women in the competition.) She was good, and she is incredibly talented, but her voice (the big, powerful black woman voice) is just somewhat unoriginal, isn't it? I mean, of all the folks here, she is undoubetedly the most talented...hands down. I just ask myself what is so different about her?

Ok, now George W Bush just appeared on the show. Christ, I was enjoying it up to that point!




I just want to make one more, non-Jovi related point before closing out for the night.

What is up with Simon's hair? I mean, he isn't a bad looking dude. He has really nice teeth. But hasn't anybody suggested to him that he might want to blend the sides and not have the "Sponge Bob Square Wig" look?

I mean, you can't tell me the guy doesn't have the loot to stop into a freakin' Supercuts and have that taken care of.

A JOVI-al episode of Idol!

Six minutes to American Idol. No time to screw around. I can't miss a single minute of the show because my boy, JON BON JOVI will be there, guiding these talentless ass-clowns through another week of painful renditions of songs that once were classics, but have been rendered acoustical mincemeat by the contenstants.




Hey, by the way, as I was searching for a good photo of Jovi, I happened upon this photo of Bill Clinton with Jon Bon Jovi. This warms my heart. I loves me some Bill Clinton. As far as I'm concerned, he's still the President of the United States. I do not acknowledge the Bush Administration. I think Bon Jovi and I have that in common.

Stupid Things I Bought This Weekend.

Coca Cola has released "Diet Coke Plus" which is supposedly vitamin infused Diet Coke. When I saw it, I thought it was the stupidest thing I'd ever seen in my life, but of course I walked straight to the register with a bottle. I was hoping it would have a different taste, and maybe even something similar to the Diet Coke with Splenda, which I loved as it reminded me of European Diet Coke, but which the almighty American Consumer must have greeted coolly because it vanished from the shelves literally within weeks of its release.

Anyway, the taste is identical to Diet Coke. When I examined the lable closely, I realized that there are indeed vitamins. Of course, it provides something like 2% of the daily recommended dose of niacin and 1.7% of the daily zinc or something.

If some orange juice company claimed to be vitamin infused and then offered such a paltry serving of vitamins, I'd be somewhat taken aback. However, look at Diet Coke. Not a single ingredient beyond the word "water" contains any fewer than 17 letters, each ending in the very un-found-in-nature letter combo of "othol."

I was never expecting Diet Coke to provide any health benefits, so I don't really mind. I'm sure I'll drink it again.




The other stupid purchase that comes to mind is the "Neutrogena Lip Booster" I picked up Friday before hitting the gym. I always end up killing time in the Porter Square CVS before my 4:30 class starts. This past Friday, my meanderings took me to the makeup section. Lauren has spoken highly of Neutrogena cosmetics on more than one occasion, and seeing as where she has lovely skin and always seems to have good quality makeup on, I decided to check out the Neutrogena. CVS was running some "buy one, get one half off" sale on Neutrogena. I picked up a mascara, but was at a bit of a loss as to what else to get. I ended up picking out the aforementioned Lip Booster. It allegedly creates full, lush lips and provides a coat of moisture under whatever lipstick or gloss you want to put over it.

The ironic thing is that my lips are completely chapped now. I mean, the kind of chapped where you look like you've been wandering through the Sahara Desert for three weeks without so much as a drop of water to drink. Smiling is incredibly painful, and today, when I was stupid enough to eat a vinegar-based salad dressing, I almost shot through the roof from the pain of the initial contact of the stuff with my broken lips.

What the hell is up with that?

Spring Cleaning.

Every year, the city sponsors a "Spring Clean Up Day." This is a pretty well-coordinated effort, with the DPW dropping off all kinds of cleaning equipment at various locations throughout the city. The designated meeting areas are often school yards or squares. I have been teaching at my present school for 6 years now, and somehow, in my first year, the responsibility of rounding up kids to bring to the cleanup day was delegated to me. The same chore has continued to fall squarely on my shoulders ever since. The principal believes I'm just really talented at motivating the kids to come out and volunteer. What he doesn't really understand is that I bribe the kids shamelessly. I promise them a homework pass and I drop their lowest grade and replace it with a 100% in the fourth marking term. And I also drive home the point that with the arrival of nice weather, many kids steer off course academically in the fourth term, and so having an extra 100% in their back pocket is a pretty good insurance policy.

I usually get pretty annoyed because the administration demands that I find the volunteers, and then they clearly expect me to show up to supervise the kids' behavior. Meanwhile, NONE of the administration team comes. No other teachers show up. No other teachers have ever shown up. So, there I am...little old me. Giving up my Saturday to oversee these kids in their cleanup efforts. Again.


Usually I greet the cleanup day with a mixture of dread, some resentment, and some, "I'm-never-going-to-get-stuck-doing-this-thing-again" mindset.

It may be petty of me, but there you have it. It ticks me off that there is this incredible amount of pressure on me to have a strong showing from our school, and I get no support from anybody, but yet, when it comes time to claim credit, magically, there was a "WE" behind the effort.

That's just "f'ed" up.

The principal claims it is because I'm the social studies teacher, and social studies is linked to community service. We'll see what happens next year when I'm teaching English and the new principal's best bud is in my current social studies position.
Somehow, I think I'll still be put upon to organize this effort.




I have to say, however, that this year the experience ended up being far better and far more enjoyable than it ever has been in the past.

First of all, I brought Allie with me. Allie's presence renders any outing far more enjoyable than it otherwise would be without her in tow.

She was great! I thougt she might last with me for a half hour, or an hour tops. I figured that before the first hour of the three-hour event was up, I'd be calling Lauren or E to come pick her up. But no. Allie hung in there like a champ. It was definitely helpful that one of my students brought his four year old brother with him, and that their mother was obviously on hand to tend to the little guy while the older boy was off working. She is a lovely woman, and was more than happy to look after Allie and her son while they worked safely in a flower bed far away from traffic. I was therefore free to roam around from time to time and check on the progress of "the big kids." But I have to admit, I spent about 95% of my time with Allie and let the kids get on with their own cleaning.

Another very positive factor was that the kids who volunteered to come all showed up on time and completely willing and ready to get to work. They did a great job and were very proud of their own efforts. As well they should have been.

And the last cool part was the post-cleanup BBQ that was held in a nearby field. It was great. There was a DJ there, spinning Usher, Beyonce and whoever else these kids get into. They were running around, laughing, having water fights, playing tag, dancing and just having a great time. I was really glad to see this. I was happy to see these teenaged kids have an incentive to get up early on a Saturday morning, take the initiative to exert themselves physically, and then just run around being kids and enjoying the BBQ, the sun, and the company of their pals. There were no video games, cell phones, computers, laptops, etc. Just kids running around outside and having fun....like kids are supposed to do. I really enjoyed it. And I think the kids did, too.




Stephen also joined in on the cleanup efforts, which was very cool.

After the thing was over, we took a trip over to EMS because Stephen's rainproof jacket has pretty much pooped out on him. After about 30 years use, this is no surprise. Stephen, like many men, believes that each and every article of clothing needs to be worn until there is literally not much more than a single thread remaining of the garment. I'm surprised that he actually instigated talk of a new rain jacket. Normally I'd have to notice that he was standing there like a drowned rat, and then present at least 5 reasons on a powerpoint projection as to why a new one should be purchased.

At any rate, he did manage to find a great raincoat, which he put to use tonight in the deluge that overtook Boston.

I managed to find the abovepictured Reef flip flops. I love these things. And they were on sale for 25 dollars. This might seem like a lot for a pair of flip flops, but considering the outrageous normal price of 45 dollars, I'd say the 25 isn't bad.



Finally, I purchased the abovepictured Red Sox t-shirt for Stephen. At City Sports, they are selling these shirts for the Boston Red Sox Foundation. 100% of proceeds go to the foundation, which funnels money to the Jimmy Fund and other charitable organizations. We were pretty hung up on the great game against NY last night, and I decided it was a disgrace for Stephen, as a resident of Boston, not to own even a single article of Red Sox clothing.

When I saw this shirt I was all for the charitable aspect of it, and Stephen liked the Japanese text. It was a good purchase!

It's Not Personal...It's Just Business

Sorry it has taken me so long to blog about the season finale of the Donald Trump show. I'm sure you've all been waitin with baited breath for my take on the thing.

Truth be told, I've been rather unmotivated to blog about the show this season at all because all in all, the show was pretty lackluster when compared to previous, decidedly more entertaining seasons.

Here's' my little A-B-C list of what went wrong with Season Six of The Donald Trump Show....

A: ANNOYING: Yes, every season has boasted its token annoying contestants, but this season's crop of contenders were almost so annoying as to render the show unwatchable. Also, in previous seasons, the Donald has had the good senses about him to fire the annoying players early on, thus ridding us of their presence sooner rather than later. That was not the case this season. The ass-chapping voice/accent combo of Nicole, the used car salesman pitch and cadence of James, and the "surely-I'd-get-my-ass-kicked-in-the-real-Brooklyn" Frank were with us right up to the bitter end.

B: BORING: There were no real fights or conflicts in this season. There was no spark in the boardroom or among the players during tasks. I had no reason to love one candidate or to hate another. They were so bland and nondescript.

C: CONSISTENCY (OR LACK THEREOF): Different judges each week was disruptive to me. I like Ivanka, Bill and Randall, but the Trump show just wasn't the same without George and the ever-acerbic Carolyn.

D: DON JR.: Walking Penis. Need I say more? No...didn't think so.

E: EDITING: We never really saw the meat and bones of the teamwork involved in any of the projects. Also, no mystery was ever left in play as to whom would be canned. Each week, the editing was so overt as to show the steadily mounting evidence against a particular individual, leaving us know, well ahead of the boardroom, whom would be axed.

F: FINALE FLOP: The last four candidates never even had to perform a particularly difficult or demanding task. Trump called all 4 together, promptly canned Nicole (thank god) and Frank, who simply slinked off stage without so much as a discussion, nevermind argument. As Reesie pointed out, clearly Trump realized the season's ratings were going south and gave the end of the season the bum's rush, rapping up the finale with 4 candidates remaining, and neglecting to even do a "separate-the-men-from-the-boys" task. Pathetic.

G: GAME (Ap-Reese-Tice). Clearly this game was rigged to California Mo's advantage. Nobody could have earned that many points week after week without some inside information. I'm just trying to figure out how she got her hands on the sensitive information! I'm determined to get to the bottom of this one.

H; HANDSOME MALE CONTESTANTS: Complete lack thereof.

I: IDLY STANDING BY WHILE GETTING CANNED: Did any candidate really put up a valiant fight to remain in the game? I'm telling you, the boardrooms were pathetic this season. Everybody slinked quietly into oblivioun without so much as advocating for themselves. They all deserved to be canned.

J: JACKASSES: This pretty much sums up the lot of contestants.

K: KITSCH PHRASES: (complete overuse thereof.) How many times can we work "At the end of the day" and "Step up to the plate" into each episode?

L: LOS ANGELES SETTING: This new venue didn't seem to add any spice or novelty to the show. The tent dwelling business got pretty old pretty quick.

M: MINDLESS MUTUAL ADMIRATION: Everybody on this season loved everybody else. We were hard pressed to see any conflict in the boardroom. All everybody could do was praise the other contestants. Come on people, start throwin some daggers. That's why we all tune in! We aren't watching for this cumbaya campfire shit!!!

N: NEPOTISM: Jesus, Trump. Do I even need to spell out the fact that we see right through your having every member of your extended family featured in the show this season?

O: OBNOXIOUS: James. Frank. Nicole.

P: PREDICTABLE: Again, we always knew exactly which player would be canned well before the boardroom moment of truth rolled around. There were no twists and turns. The editing so clearly set up the final outcome by halfway through any given episode.

Q: QUIETLY GOING INTO THAT GOOD NIGHT UPON BEING CANNED: Again, candidates just seemed to accept being canned. Nobody ever challenged the Donald. No boardroom ever stood out as having been anything close to any kind of blood bath. It was all too polite!

R: ROMANCE: The romance between Tim and Nicole was ridiculous. Both of them were annoying, juvenile, immature and less adept at romance than my seventh graders.

S: SHAMELESS SELF PROMOTION: Everything from having his kids on the show to having the candidates prepare advertisements for his new condos was just downright overt and blatant shameless self-promotion on Trump's behalf.

T: TIME SLOT: The season started with 8:00 Trump Show and eventually moved to 10:00. As an early morning person who does not own a Tivo or whatever they're called, a 10:00 start time is a real deal breaker.

U: UTTERLY UNORIGINAL: All of the tasks this season seemed to be repeats of very similar tasks in seasons past. Car advertisements and crap. Let's get on with something new.

V: VARIETY (lack thereof): Again, the tasks were unoriginal and the candidates were almost undiscernable from each other. There were no real characters.

W: WIGS: Jesus, between Trump's mess and Nicole's deep fried blowout, I didn't know what to do. Heidi clearly needed to let go of her "Rachel from Friends" attempt at long layers and just pull her hair back and out of her face. What was with Stefani in the season finale? Throughout the entire season, she had this reddish-blong thing going on, and in the finale, she appears with some dark brown piggy-back perm. I honestly couldn't even recognize the Stefani I knew from the show with this woman in the finale.

X: XENOPHOBIA: Trump cans all the foreign born candidates before the finale. Just joking about this one, but what the hell am I going to do with X?

Y: YOUR NAME PLEASE: Trump doesn't even deign to introduce representatives from companies to the candidates. He doesn't take the time to learn their names to present them properly. He simply says, "Your name please" and forces them to introduce themselves to the candidates.

Z: ZERO: The amount of interest I had in the show by the time the season finale rolled around.