I am an internet addict. I like to blog, read articles, google things, find funny videos on youtube, solve roommate arguments by looking stuff up on wikipedia or imdb, check the weather, listen to music, e-mail incessantly, and then blog a little bit more.
I have not had internet access at home for nearly three weeks now. Not only that, but a so-called "part-time" job I took has completely taken over my life. So blogging has taken a back seat in a big way.
Now that I am finally able to sit down at a computer, I actually have nothing to say. I should have internet at home on Friday, so hopefully I'll be back to my old wordy self soon.
Showing posts with label misc.. Show all posts
Showing posts with label misc.. Show all posts
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
Pet Peeves
I used to have a friend who said her pet peeve was pet peeves. She hated when people talked about them, thought it was a stupid discussion, and a stupid thing to even think about. I can practically hear her voice in my head as I seem to be able to focus on nothing but pet peeves at the moment.
I am in a very bad mood this morning for reasons I won't get into, and this bad mood seems to be making all those pet peeves into giant issues. Like the fact that my math teacher erases the board with the side of her hand, and, (right when I didn't think it could get any worse) she doesn't erase the board completely. Or the fact that I'm in the library and the staffroom is right next to where I am trying to work. The staffroom door has the loudest creaking sound I have ever heard. Can't all the money I gave them pay for some WD-40?
I know why they're called "pet" peeves. It's literally as if I am scratching each peeve behind it's ear, or rubbing its belly, or throwing it a tennis ball. And the peeve just keeps coming back for more, and being more insistent for my attention. So I cut it off here. Down, boy! Go lay down!
I am in a very bad mood this morning for reasons I won't get into, and this bad mood seems to be making all those pet peeves into giant issues. Like the fact that my math teacher erases the board with the side of her hand, and, (right when I didn't think it could get any worse) she doesn't erase the board completely. Or the fact that I'm in the library and the staffroom is right next to where I am trying to work. The staffroom door has the loudest creaking sound I have ever heard. Can't all the money I gave them pay for some WD-40?
I know why they're called "pet" peeves. It's literally as if I am scratching each peeve behind it's ear, or rubbing its belly, or throwing it a tennis ball. And the peeve just keeps coming back for more, and being more insistent for my attention. So I cut it off here. Down, boy! Go lay down!
Thursday, July 05, 2007
Just Say No
I have been absurdly stressed during this week. It seems that there is not enough time in the day to get everything done, which is ridiculous because it's summer and I'm a teacher. But it seems that I have agreed to do too many things (yet again.) I look at the list of responsibilities for this month: training new teachers 20+ hours a week, taking a math class, recruiting for my soccer team, going to soccer practice, training for the marathon, and getting my apartment in order...no wonder I feel like the days are jam-packed.
Some people would say, figure out which one of these things you can drop, then move on to a less-stressed summer. But not me...I only realized that I had said yes to so much yesterday. I got up today ready to get organized. With my to-do list by my side and an early start to the day, I've even found time to blog. A little more organization (and a lot more unpacking) and I think my summer will be right back on track!
Some people would say, figure out which one of these things you can drop, then move on to a less-stressed summer. But not me...I only realized that I had said yes to so much yesterday. I got up today ready to get organized. With my to-do list by my side and an early start to the day, I've even found time to blog. A little more organization (and a lot more unpacking) and I think my summer will be right back on track!
Sunday, June 24, 2007
Feeling Excessive
I just got back from a little trip (actually a big trip due to a festival in my neighborhood) to the GoodWill. This is where I dropped off a few bags of clothes and a ridiculously large bag of shoes. It was a huge black garbage bag so filled with shoes that I couldn't even begin to close it. Now my shoe count is way down: to 16. No wait, 17.
The worst part is that I wouldn't even be getting rid of any of them if these shoes weren't going against all of my podiatrist's recommendations. My shoe love may have gotten out of control.
The worst part is that I wouldn't even be getting rid of any of them if these shoes weren't going against all of my podiatrist's recommendations. My shoe love may have gotten out of control.
Thursday, June 21, 2007
Oh, Hair stylist, Where Art Thou?
So it's not a disaster of the proportions found in the Odyssey, but it's sad nonetheless. My hair stylist moved to Nevada. It took me soooo long to find someone I really loved, I even got my roommate hooked on her, and now she's leaving me. I know I probably shouldn't take it so personally, but I do. Maybe I didn't go often enough, or maybe she noticed I'm not the kind of girl who really brushes her hair too often, but she didn't have to leave.
Who else will tolerate me cutting my hair by myself three or four times between visits? And who else will actually be excited when I sit in the chair and say: "Do whatever you want, as long as it's out of my eyes and takes less than five minutes to fix."
She didn't even say good-bye...
Who else will tolerate me cutting my hair by myself three or four times between visits? And who else will actually be excited when I sit in the chair and say: "Do whatever you want, as long as it's out of my eyes and takes less than five minutes to fix."
She didn't even say good-bye...
Monday, June 18, 2007
Man Vs. Machine
I went to pick up my laundry from the laundromat a little after 10:30 tonight. This is extremely late for me on a school night, so I just wanted to get in and get out. So, even though there were still four minutes left on my dryer time, I decided to just open up the dryer, throw my clothes in the cart, and get back home.
Usually once you open the dryer door about five inches it stops spinning and you can pull your clothes out. But not this time. The dryer continued to spin. Somehow I took this as a challenge. I began to pull out my clothes and throw them in my cart. At first it looked as though I would easily beat the four minutes remaining on the dryer clock, but as the amount of clothing diminished, the task became more difficult. There was still two minutes left and many socks, pairs of underwear, and tank tops spinning just out of my grasp. With one minute left I was grasping at any item I could reach still clinging to the dryer walls. I pulled out the last sock about ten seconds before the buzzer rang and triumpantly threw it in my cart.
I shut the dryer door, then turned to find the three other laundromat patrons staring at me. They were probably wondering why I hadn't just waited, why I had chosen to risk life and limb for the sake of four minutes. I left quickly, but now I wish I had done a victory lap around the laundromat. Afterall, I'm moving in a week and a half and will probably never see these people again. What better time to make a fool of myself?
Usually once you open the dryer door about five inches it stops spinning and you can pull your clothes out. But not this time. The dryer continued to spin. Somehow I took this as a challenge. I began to pull out my clothes and throw them in my cart. At first it looked as though I would easily beat the four minutes remaining on the dryer clock, but as the amount of clothing diminished, the task became more difficult. There was still two minutes left and many socks, pairs of underwear, and tank tops spinning just out of my grasp. With one minute left I was grasping at any item I could reach still clinging to the dryer walls. I pulled out the last sock about ten seconds before the buzzer rang and triumpantly threw it in my cart.
I shut the dryer door, then turned to find the three other laundromat patrons staring at me. They were probably wondering why I hadn't just waited, why I had chosen to risk life and limb for the sake of four minutes. I left quickly, but now I wish I had done a victory lap around the laundromat. Afterall, I'm moving in a week and a half and will probably never see these people again. What better time to make a fool of myself?
Saturday, June 16, 2007
Yard Sales
When I was a kid my mom would occasionally take my brother and I to yard sales. We would get up early on a Saturday morning and drive all over North Little Rock checking out the cheap loot spread across tables on lawns and in garages. Somehow, I expected the yard sale my roommate and I had today to be similar.
Yard sales in Arkansas are actually quite different from yard sales in my little corner of Queens. The yard sales back home typically have a steady stream of people searching for deals and surprising finds. Here, with little foot traffic going by our house and most of the cars being of the Mercedes or Cadillac variety, we weren't really hitting our niche market. We had about ten people peruse our selection in the five hours we were sitting outside.
One of these women accounted for nearly half of our earnings. She went around picking up items, stating that she didn't need them, then setting them aside for purchase. She told us all about her collection of Disney tchotchkes, which is so large it fills her living room and kitchen. I am fairly minimalist (aside from books, that is) so I actually began to feel guilty for contributing to this madness. She left our sale to go visit a few others, then came back to pick up the large cd tower she bought.
Our second best customer was probably me. As I'm preparing to move out, I see that there are many things that I haven't owned since my last yard sale three years ago when I was living in Memphis. Fortunately, my roommate had them at our sale. So, instead of the yard sale purchases of faded little boy t-shirts that I used to wear with my flared jeans in high school, I bought a cheese grater and wine glasses.
At the end of the sale, we packed my roommate's car with the leftover goods to give to a thrift store. Next to the front gate of our apartment, we left a cart of books with a sign that said, "Free." About two hours later, (after yard sale exhaustion had fully set in) my roommate was dead-asleep in her bedroom and I was half-asleep in the living room trying to have a coherent conversation with my mom. Suddenly I realized that the sound I was hearing in the background was thunder. I ran out the door, yelling to wake up my roommate so we could save the books we had rejected, the books that no one else had bothered to pick up--A somewhat ironic ending to a day of yard-saling.
Yard sales in Arkansas are actually quite different from yard sales in my little corner of Queens. The yard sales back home typically have a steady stream of people searching for deals and surprising finds. Here, with little foot traffic going by our house and most of the cars being of the Mercedes or Cadillac variety, we weren't really hitting our niche market. We had about ten people peruse our selection in the five hours we were sitting outside.
One of these women accounted for nearly half of our earnings. She went around picking up items, stating that she didn't need them, then setting them aside for purchase. She told us all about her collection of Disney tchotchkes, which is so large it fills her living room and kitchen. I am fairly minimalist (aside from books, that is) so I actually began to feel guilty for contributing to this madness. She left our sale to go visit a few others, then came back to pick up the large cd tower she bought.
Our second best customer was probably me. As I'm preparing to move out, I see that there are many things that I haven't owned since my last yard sale three years ago when I was living in Memphis. Fortunately, my roommate had them at our sale. So, instead of the yard sale purchases of faded little boy t-shirts that I used to wear with my flared jeans in high school, I bought a cheese grater and wine glasses.
At the end of the sale, we packed my roommate's car with the leftover goods to give to a thrift store. Next to the front gate of our apartment, we left a cart of books with a sign that said, "Free." About two hours later, (after yard sale exhaustion had fully set in) my roommate was dead-asleep in her bedroom and I was half-asleep in the living room trying to have a coherent conversation with my mom. Suddenly I realized that the sound I was hearing in the background was thunder. I ran out the door, yelling to wake up my roommate so we could save the books we had rejected, the books that no one else had bothered to pick up--A somewhat ironic ending to a day of yard-saling.
Thursday, April 26, 2007
Today I...
...ate an entire box of Samoas.
...found out I really do get to finally graduate from grad school in a mere six weeks.
...played outside with a class of students with Downs Syndrome, only to find out two students had found the basketball we were playing with in the trash can.
...washed my hands for about twenty minutes straight.
...collaborated with my school librarian on organizing a project for my students.
...realized my school librarian is an amazing, untapped resource that I didn't even think of previously due to spending two years in a school that had no library.
...asked my school administration to pay for my students to take a rather expensive field trip that I knew my students' parents could not afford, and received a check within fifteen minutes.
And to think, it's only 1:00.
...found out I really do get to finally graduate from grad school in a mere six weeks.
...played outside with a class of students with Downs Syndrome, only to find out two students had found the basketball we were playing with in the trash can.
...washed my hands for about twenty minutes straight.
...collaborated with my school librarian on organizing a project for my students.
...realized my school librarian is an amazing, untapped resource that I didn't even think of previously due to spending two years in a school that had no library.
...asked my school administration to pay for my students to take a rather expensive field trip that I knew my students' parents could not afford, and received a check within fifteen minutes.
And to think, it's only 1:00.
Sunday, April 15, 2007
Let It Rain (Let It Pour)
In the midst of today's nor'easter I decided to trek to the Met to meet an equally-crazy friend. I arrived a little damp, but decided it was well worth the trip to revisit my favorite painting and see the exhibits "Barcelona and Modernity" and "Venice and the Islamic World." Two hours later I headed back into the deluge. I got back home completely drenched: my winter coat did not withstand the downpour, my jeans were soaked from my knees to my ankles, and each shoe could be categorized as a swamp.
Now I'm back where you're supposed to be on a rainy day--inside on the couch with my book, my mindless magazine, my computer, and the tv. I even ordered in food, forcing some poor man to deliver it on a bicycle. (I tipped him well, though.) And this Ok go song is stuck in my head. All this rain can't stop Sunday from being my favorite day.
Monday, April 02, 2007
Programmed...
Today I am going to the podiatrist, so what did I do? I shaved my legs. It was an autopilot type of decision. I was in the shower and I thought, Oh yeah, must shave legs, going to podiatrist.
I shave my legs rather infrequently because, though I love the feeling of having shaved legs, it seems like a lot of time spent for a short-lived return. I could use that time doing so many other, more productive things, like putting away the dry silverware from the dish rack. So imagine my shock when I realized halfway through calf #2 (yes, I did only shave from the knee down)that I was doing all of this for my podiatrist!
Now the real question is, Would I have shaved even if I hadn't made the decision almost unconsciously? Would I insist on hiding hair from my foot doctor after this whole thought process about how ridiculous this behavior is? The answer: Yes. I'm shaking my head in disappointment at myself as I type. So there you have it folks, I'm a conformer after all.
I shave my legs rather infrequently because, though I love the feeling of having shaved legs, it seems like a lot of time spent for a short-lived return. I could use that time doing so many other, more productive things, like putting away the dry silverware from the dish rack. So imagine my shock when I realized halfway through calf #2 (yes, I did only shave from the knee down)that I was doing all of this for my podiatrist!
Now the real question is, Would I have shaved even if I hadn't made the decision almost unconsciously? Would I insist on hiding hair from my foot doctor after this whole thought process about how ridiculous this behavior is? The answer: Yes. I'm shaking my head in disappointment at myself as I type. So there you have it folks, I'm a conformer after all.
Wednesday, February 28, 2007
A Change on Aisle Life
I started this blog as a place where I can tell the little goings-on in my life for the entertainment of family and friends who I had given the web address to. I understand it's a public forum, and I do like it when others happen upon Aisle Life and share their thoughts about whatever I may be writing.
However, in the past two months I have received a few anonymous comments from someone who has been leaving extremely rude messages that personally attack me. I delete the comments because this is not a forum for hostility. If you don't like what I have to say, then don't read it. And definitely don't leave cruel messages without having the courage to sign your name to them.
I am not embarrassed by anything I write here or what anyone might think about it. In the end, the only thing this anonymous person has succeeded in doing is annoying me, and causing me to change the settings so that anonymous comments may not be left anymore. This is disappointing because I want it to be an open forum for anyone who derives the same enjoyment I do from the small things in life. Most of you reading do know me, and I apologize for the change. Other than that, happy reading!
However, in the past two months I have received a few anonymous comments from someone who has been leaving extremely rude messages that personally attack me. I delete the comments because this is not a forum for hostility. If you don't like what I have to say, then don't read it. And definitely don't leave cruel messages without having the courage to sign your name to them.
I am not embarrassed by anything I write here or what anyone might think about it. In the end, the only thing this anonymous person has succeeded in doing is annoying me, and causing me to change the settings so that anonymous comments may not be left anymore. This is disappointing because I want it to be an open forum for anyone who derives the same enjoyment I do from the small things in life. Most of you reading do know me, and I apologize for the change. Other than that, happy reading!
Monday, January 15, 2007
Cannot Sleep
It's happened...I have pretended for about two weeks now that I am not a teacher and can lead the average social life of a twenty-something in New York City. As I am fully awake after spending too many nights staying up too late, I can't even begin to convince my body and my mind to shutdown. Which means that when the alarm clock starts ringing in approximately five hours, I will be hitting the snooze button repeatedly before halfheartedly dragging myself out of bed.
So I take out the laptop, and start writing a story that's been banging around in my brain for the last couple of weeks. It feels good to be doing some late-night writing, (even though I know I'll be paying for it soon,) but my ideas have momentarily come to a standstill. So I turn to the blog, and what do you know, it gets me going again. I write a sentence here, I write a paragraph on the story, two sentences here, three paragraphs on the story...At least I have something to keep me occupied until I am finally able to sleep.
So I take out the laptop, and start writing a story that's been banging around in my brain for the last couple of weeks. It feels good to be doing some late-night writing, (even though I know I'll be paying for it soon,) but my ideas have momentarily come to a standstill. So I turn to the blog, and what do you know, it gets me going again. I write a sentence here, I write a paragraph on the story, two sentences here, three paragraphs on the story...At least I have something to keep me occupied until I am finally able to sleep.
Sunday, January 07, 2007
Wasting Time
Today I went on a website that compares the contours of your face to hundreds of celebrities and then tells you which celebrity you look the most like. It told me that I look like Mariah Carey, which sort of pissed me off at first. Then I remembered that the only reason I went on the website was because it said my friend Jarrett looks just like Eleanor Roosevelt.
Anyhow, anyone can take one look at me and recognize that I look nothing like Mariah. So I scanned in two other pictures and was told what I believe to be the ultimate truth: that I don't look like any celebrities. Now that I have found that great informational jem, I will be going to bed now after five days of serious sleep deprivation...gotta love your Eleanor-Roosevelt-lookalike-houseguests who keep you out to all hours of the morning...
Anyhow, anyone can take one look at me and recognize that I look nothing like Mariah. So I scanned in two other pictures and was told what I believe to be the ultimate truth: that I don't look like any celebrities. Now that I have found that great informational jem, I will be going to bed now after five days of serious sleep deprivation...gotta love your Eleanor-Roosevelt-lookalike-houseguests who keep you out to all hours of the morning...
Monday, January 01, 2007
iPod IQ?
I just turned my iPod on shuffle and plugged it into the speakers my brother got me for Christmas. As I sit down to my computer, the first song comes on. It's Jack Johnson singing, "Can't you see that it's just raining, There ain't no need to go outside." I look out the window at the rain coming down and think, "My iPod is so smart."
Monday, December 11, 2006
Not on the Schedule
When I got home today, I grabbed an old receipt (I love the Reuse portion of the 3 Rs) and wrote a schedule for my evening.
6:00-7:30 Work on final paper
7:30-8:00 Shower, make lunch for tomorrow, do dishes
8:00-9:00 Complete paper
9:00-10:00 Watch TV, put away laundry
10:00 Go to bed (nevermind this is an hour after my typical bedtime)
As you can see, I am already off schedule. I think I may have convinced myself that I work best under pressure, which causes me to save all my papers to the last minute. I have nine pages complete right now...just 6 more to hit my minimum. The only thing that is getting me through tonight nearly stress-free is the fact that in approximately 26 hours I will be done with this semester of grad school.
6:00-7:30 Work on final paper
7:30-8:00 Shower, make lunch for tomorrow, do dishes
8:00-9:00 Complete paper
9:00-10:00 Watch TV, put away laundry
10:00 Go to bed (nevermind this is an hour after my typical bedtime)
As you can see, I am already off schedule. I think I may have convinced myself that I work best under pressure, which causes me to save all my papers to the last minute. I have nine pages complete right now...just 6 more to hit my minimum. The only thing that is getting me through tonight nearly stress-free is the fact that in approximately 26 hours I will be done with this semester of grad school.
Friday, December 08, 2006
Thoughts on the Train
I'm coming home on the N train, happily watching the buildings go by as I listen to my iPod on shuffle. An old favorite that I haven't heard in a couple years comes on: the Dixie Chicks singing Cowboy Take Me Away.
There was a time when I absolutely identified with this song, especially the lyric that says, "I wanna look at the horizon and not see a building standing tall, I wanna be the only one for miles and miles." Today, I heard those lyrics and thought, That sounds terrible.
Almost immediately I laughed. It's startling sometimes to come across such changes in yourself.
There was a time when I absolutely identified with this song, especially the lyric that says, "I wanna look at the horizon and not see a building standing tall, I wanna be the only one for miles and miles." Today, I heard those lyrics and thought, That sounds terrible.
Almost immediately I laughed. It's startling sometimes to come across such changes in yourself.
Saturday, December 02, 2006
Reasons
Sometimes I neglect the blog because I am so busy I don't have a moment to sit down and write a complete thought. Other times I neglect the blog because I don't have anything extremely interesting to say because graduate school has temporarily taken over my life. While that is partially true for the silence of the past week, it is mostly because of the much more rare reason #3: life has suddenly and inexplicably spiraled out of control.
My response to situations that are far beyond my control is typically to try and control every other aspect of my life. I schedule my days so I am constantly around people (I can't believe how social this week has been.) I run (clocking in nearly 24 miles since the last blog entry.) I read an absurd amount. (I started book number three this morning.) And when it doesn't seem to be working, I just do all of the above a little bit more.
I don't know what the best way is to handle extreme amounts of stress, but I do know that everyone has those times when troubles pile on, and no matter what one does to handle the stress, it eventually goes away. My stress has slowly been released, and I am feeling much better. And I'm in for a little more time with friends tonight and a restaurant I love. Is there really any better medicine for those times when things get us down?
My response to situations that are far beyond my control is typically to try and control every other aspect of my life. I schedule my days so I am constantly around people (I can't believe how social this week has been.) I run (clocking in nearly 24 miles since the last blog entry.) I read an absurd amount. (I started book number three this morning.) And when it doesn't seem to be working, I just do all of the above a little bit more.
I don't know what the best way is to handle extreme amounts of stress, but I do know that everyone has those times when troubles pile on, and no matter what one does to handle the stress, it eventually goes away. My stress has slowly been released, and I am feeling much better. And I'm in for a little more time with friends tonight and a restaurant I love. Is there really any better medicine for those times when things get us down?
Wednesday, November 08, 2006
Be Mischievous.
I'm on my lunchbreak, taking a little respite from my day of IEP-writing every spare second. After scarfing down my sandwich and strawberry yogurt, I treat myself to a few of the Dove chocolates my mom sent with my birthday present. Each chocolate has a special message on the inside of the wrapper. I barely glanced at the wise words of "Make a list of your dreams," "Discover yourself," and "Dare to love completely." However, like a teenager who can apply her YM horoscope to her personal life every single month, I felt certain that this package and this particular chocolate was sent to me with some divine purpose: "Be mischievous. It feels good."
Yesterday, I was riding the train in my typical fashion, so engrossed in my book I was unaware of anything around me, including the coworker who had gotten on the train three stops earlier. He scared me half to death by grabbing my book. It is now an official joke around the school, as I have been greeted several times with "How's the G train book club going?"
A friend was talking to me about how to get him back. She, a pro at being miscievous, has several ideas for what to do. Maybe Dove can inspire me add a little mischief to my life...as soon as I finish these IEPs.
Yesterday, I was riding the train in my typical fashion, so engrossed in my book I was unaware of anything around me, including the coworker who had gotten on the train three stops earlier. He scared me half to death by grabbing my book. It is now an official joke around the school, as I have been greeted several times with "How's the G train book club going?"
A friend was talking to me about how to get him back. She, a pro at being miscievous, has several ideas for what to do. Maybe Dove can inspire me add a little mischief to my life...as soon as I finish these IEPs.
Tuesday, November 07, 2006
Twenty Five Years and One Day
I spent some time yesterday afternoon looking up essays and stories about turning 25. What I found was mostly nonsense, ridiculous panic, or (in one case) the to-do list of a misguided 23-year-old who wanted to get married, have a baby, buy a house, and get her masters degree by the time she turned 25. After that little bit of research, I decided that I was spending my November 6th turning 25 in a much better fashion than anyone I came across in my googling.
I've spent the past few days having mini-celebrations with a variety of friends that have added up to one fantastic birthdays. I also participated in the yearly tradition my roommate has of asking, "What did you learn this year?" We were walking down the street, trading turns listing what I had learned, and by the end of the walk I was feeling nearly-wise. The number one lesson I've learned? Decisions motivated by guilt are not healthy (sounds obvious, but when applied to a decision such as whether or not to leave a negative work environment filled with children that you love, well, it can get pretty tricky.)
There have been so many lessons that it's unbelievable they've been crammed into only one year. It turns out that when you're not overwhelmed by learning lessons about a new job and a new city, you get the chance to learn a few lessons about yourself. Hopefully, 25 will be just as good as 24.
I've spent the past few days having mini-celebrations with a variety of friends that have added up to one fantastic birthdays. I also participated in the yearly tradition my roommate has of asking, "What did you learn this year?" We were walking down the street, trading turns listing what I had learned, and by the end of the walk I was feeling nearly-wise. The number one lesson I've learned? Decisions motivated by guilt are not healthy (sounds obvious, but when applied to a decision such as whether or not to leave a negative work environment filled with children that you love, well, it can get pretty tricky.)
There have been so many lessons that it's unbelievable they've been crammed into only one year. It turns out that when you're not overwhelmed by learning lessons about a new job and a new city, you get the chance to learn a few lessons about yourself. Hopefully, 25 will be just as good as 24.
Tuesday, September 26, 2006
Behavior Modification?
On the G train home I somehow found myself sitting in the middle of a group of 6 high school kids. They were acting pretty typically: sarcastic and cool like any teenagers. They started talking about New Year's resolutions. The conversation went a little like this:
Kid A: I'm going to stop cursing.
Kid B: You said the same thing last year.
Kid C: I know how to make you stop. Every time you curse, I'll hit you like this. (Punches Kid A in the shoulder.) And I'll keep hitting you until you say 'Bad habit, bad habit, bad habit.' You have to say it three times.
Kid B: Yo, son, you come up with some crazy shit.
Kid C starts punching him repeatedly.
Kid B: Why you punchin' me? OHH! Bad habit, bad habit, bad habit!
Kid C: Stops punching him. See, it's gonna work.
Kid A: I'm going to stop cursing.
Kid B: You said the same thing last year.
Kid C: I know how to make you stop. Every time you curse, I'll hit you like this. (Punches Kid A in the shoulder.) And I'll keep hitting you until you say 'Bad habit, bad habit, bad habit.' You have to say it three times.
Kid B: Yo, son, you come up with some crazy shit.
Kid C starts punching him repeatedly.
Kid B: Why you punchin' me? OHH! Bad habit, bad habit, bad habit!
Kid C: Stops punching him. See, it's gonna work.
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