Internet Safety And A Smallish Rant About Standardized Testing

   There are so many things going on right now, and one of those things is MSP testing, and the countdown to summer vacation. The end of the school year always seems to have my daughter so flustered and tense. The MSP testing is one of those reasons (MSP = measurement of student progress). My daughter is one of the fortunate, she doesn't freeze up for testing and she has good study habits, but that doesn't mean that she enjoys all the testing. This year, I think she is only being tested in reading and math, because the subjects they are tested on is based by grade-level, but in previous years, she has had so many tests that she would seem to be having tests every single day. Not all of them were MSP, because regular classes must go on, in spite of standardized testing that really tells us nothing.
    This year, her testing days are lower, but she has had a lot of essays to write, which I am not complaining about, because that is something that she actually does need to learn to do well. She has plans for college, and the better she is at writing, the better she will do in college. I'm not a critic of hard work, I am a critic of useless, meaningless hard work, and to me, standardized testing fits that bill. All those tests do is point out the kids who can take tests well, and the kids who have testing issues, and really, the level of stress that those tests cause in my daughter alone, who tests well, to me, indicates that these tests cause more stress than they are worth, but I digress. I actually wanted to write a blog post about internet safety, and I find myself ranting about standardized testing. Okay, so back to the essays.
   My daughter has been doing a lot of internet research for her essays (because my computer is a piece of shit that craps out on you at the most inconvenient time, she's been using her Kindle -- thank you Grandma for the Kindle!!) and this naturally has lead me to thinking about how much kids actually use the internet these days as compared to when I was in school.
   We had a few specialized computer classes when I was in school, but I never spent any real time with a computer until I started college. I muddled through my first semester with no real computer skills, and after that first term was over -- I signed up for as many beginning computer classes as I could. If college is something you are thinking about, and you don't know at least the basics of computer skills and Microsoft Office navigation, then I suggest classes designed to teach these things be your first.
   Unlike me, my daughter has been using computers at school since day one of kindergarten. In fact, when I walked into her first parent teacher conference, I was shown how she had to navigate through log-in screens to reach her AR reading tests. In first grade, she made her first Powerpoint -- I hadn't even known what a Powerpoint was until college -- and she was already using computers for research, which meant that the school was giving them internet safety lessons.
   The librarian did this, and one of the exercises that she used was that she printed out some conversations that was supposedly between them and some person on the internet that they thought was a kid, and then she would show them some creepy picture that was really who they were talking to. The one that stuck most in my mind was a bearded man in a purple dress surrounded by cats. I can see why this person might not be the best person for a kid to talk to, not knowing them, but for me, there are so many damn kids on the internet, I find that I would rather talk to the bearded purple dress man than some little nine year old pretending to be a bad-ass, because that man would likely have a somewhat interesting life-story as opposed to someone whose mom still packs their lunch, but I digress.
   I don't really think that exercise did a whole lot of good. There are a lot of predators out there, I am not denying that, but in my experience, scare tactics has never been a good teaching tool. I can't keep my daughter off of the internet, because her school work would suffer. But there are things, that as a mom, I can do. So to all of you who are wondering or thinking on this issue, these are some of the things that I do (which doesn't mean that you have to, but just for ideas) and one is learn parental controls on your devices. I actually don't have mine very blocked, just so that actual porn will not come up, but what I like is the report that I get that says what she is looking at, so that I can look too. Also, don't be afraid to look over your kid's shoulder every now and again, just so that you can get a visual. Most importantly, be available to help. If your kid needs help with something, you get the bonus of getting to come over and snoop around without seeming, well, snoop-y.  But even more importantly than that, teach your kid some commonsense. Commonsense can go a loooooong way when you are talking internet safety, and a lot of other safety as well. Nothing trumps commonsense, and the long of the short of this issue is that keeping your kids away from the internet may not be in the best of your kid's interest. Of course, that is something that only you, as the parent, can decide, but if you decide to go the internet route, just remember, be involved and use (and teach) commonsense. 

I'm Turning Into A Dragon

   There is a ball of fire currently residing in my digestive system. Now, some people might think that this is indigestion; my sister favors acid reflux disease herself. She diagnoses everyone with this; and once she was actually right, and her friend actually did have acid reflux. She takes this as confirmation of her diagnosing skills, but to quote a saying that tickles my funny bone, "Even a broken clock is right twice a day."
   My problems stem from stress; I've been under plenty lately. And all this burning, that resembles that heart-burn-y feeling is really a symptom of something else: dragon fire. Yes, you read that right, stress is turning me into a dragon. Literally.
   The first thing that I plan to do once the transformation is complete is eat all the stupid people. Consider this a public service. We could use less stupid people, and I even have an order in which I plan to eat the dumbasses. First off, I am going to eat everyone that has pulled me into their own personal dumbassery; I do NOT appreciate the added stress to my already stressful life. Second, every single Prozac-saturated fool who has ever made any statement similar to "Come on, why aren't you smiling? You need to be happy." No, I do not need to be happy. But, in regards to smiling, the lack of a smile does not indicate unhappiness or anger or any other negative emotion. Sometimes people just have a resting face, especially when they are concentrating on something, like say, doing their jobs, for example. But demanding a smile, now, that is sure to cause a hell of a lot of unhappiness. For all you sunshine-y, bubbly, my-shit-smells-like-roses people, most people do not smile 24/7. Kinda makes you look insane when you do.
   After the drama queens and the smile-whores, I am going after all the people who refuse to read the signs that are posted, and then I am going to go after all of the people who argue in favor of the people who refuse to read signs. If you don't read the signs, and then get blindsided by the fact that a store has an unusual policy, then you can only blame yourself. Few people do, however,and I am getting damn tired of hearing, "What the hell do you mean, you don't accept credit?!" Well, you were warned, not my fault you decided not to read.
   Then I am gonna eat every single person who tries to bully cashiers into lowering prices because the price was lower last week, and you don't want to pay more for the same product. It's called inflation, and your cashier didn't cause it. We suffer from rising prices as much as the next person, and I don't want to hear about how you can't afford to pay an extra 20 cents when you are sitting there texting on your Iphone, with your Coach bag and your foodstamp card ready to slide. Suck it up; be a big girl. Plus, cashiers just randomly changing prices to a lower cost without there actually being a mislabeled price or without management approval technically is considered employee theft. One place I worked for actually had a term for it: sweethearting the bill. Thanks for expecting people like me to steal for you. Oh, and somewhere around here, I am also going to go after all the deadbeat parents out there, just because, fuck them. I'm also, while I am about causing mayhem and chaos, going to destroy all the crappy computers that only work a quarter of the time, because those technological headaches aren't helping anybody.
   The order is up in the air after that; I'll get around to all the stupid people eventually, but I figure if I eat all of the dumbasses in the world at one time, I'll get another stomachache, and frankly, I already am having issues with a sour stomach. And I'm cranky as all-shit. I'm sure many of you are also familiar with the joys of stomach issues caused by stress. And you'll all be joining me, I am sure, in my transformation from fairly nice, half-way decent person (if a little hermitish and introverted) to insane fire-breathing dragon with anger management issues. The world just better consider itself warned.


((****note*** to every person out there who does not have a sense of humor, yes, this is a joke/rant meant to relieve some of my stress, because the only thing about this that isn't a joke is my stomachache.))

The Trouble With Curtains

   I hate the heat. This sometimes can seem strange to people, because I am from the South, where the temperature would get into the 100's, and you could literally crack an egg on the hood of a car and watch it fry ( I know, because I did this, and pissed my bestie's mom off royally), but I will complain loudly and bitterly when the heat reaches 80, much less 100. I don't like being hot. Nor do I like being cold, but for me, it's easier to get my home warm than it is to cool my home off, so I hate heat worse, because heat causes me the most trouble.
   Last summer was my first summer in this apartment, and last summer was enough to cause me to vow to make my apartment over drastically for the heat this summer. I will never spend another summer like that again - we about died of heatstroke just by sleeping in our own beds. You see, most (if not all) apartments in this area of Washington do not come with air conditioning, and then when you sign the lease, there is always this statement about not allowing window air conditioning units because they make the complex look tacky. So in Washington, apartments can get pretty hot. (Just listen to me bitch.)
   Anyway, in regards to that, we have had our first week of 80 degree weather, and we haven't even reached the end of the school year. We're still in Spring, so I am over hear just bitching and moaning away, and shopping on Amazon. Because I need (NEED!!! Need - I tell you!!!) three more fans and some blackout curtains, which caused the UPS delivery man to make cracks about my having bought out the whole store when he delivered all those fans and curtains and curtain rods.
    According to the lease, we aren't really supposed to hang curtains either, but I mean, really??!! And they aren't likely to find out at any rate; I don't like people coming into my apartment, not even the maintenance people, which means that I only call them if I absolutely cannot figure out how to fix something. I mean, really, if my toilet messes up I will sit here watching people fix toilets on YouTube just to see if I think I can do it too. So no one is really that likely to notice the blackout curtains that I have hung, because I need this apartment to be cooler than it was last summer. After all, tenants dying of heat stroke in their own apartments would be bad publicity anyway, right? I'm helping them out here, by keeping us alive. Anyway, that's the argument that I plan to use if anyone actually finds out and actually cares enough to object, but I digress.
   Of course, I bought curtains for both my living room (which also happens to be my bedroom) and the bedroom (the kiddo's), but I only managed to hang the curtains in my living room. I need help for the others -- I'm not hanging another set of curtains solo. The living room curtains were a nice exercise for my sailor's vocabulary, but the neighbors have probably heard enough of my shrieking and swearing (all the windows were open -- oops). I need help, after being hit in the head by an unruly curtain rod countless times, cutting my finger open, and then thinking that after all of that crap, I don't think the damn rod is up right anyway, I have admitted defeat and called my sister. She needs to come help me, because if she doesn't, I'm moving into her basement-level, cool-as-can-be apartment for the summer. And as much as we get along, she doesn't want me and my daughter sleeping on her couches (she has 2 sleeper couches) for about three months. Granted -- I should have waited for her in the first place, because she had already told me that she would put the curtains up for me, but I thought that maybe I could save her the trip.
   Regardless, the point is, if I have to staple those damn blackout curtains to the damn wall, they are going up. I am not gonna swelter this summer. Summer should be about fun, camping and hiking and beaches and all that; summer should not be about cooking in your own juices while you try to sleep. 

I See Your Crash, Computer, And I Raise You One System Restore, New Anti-Virus Programs, And Some Duct Tape

   I don't know when this war that I am having with technology will ever end. This laptop that I am sitting here typing on is around seven years old, I think. I have to use this one because the new one that I bought LAST FRICKIN' YEAR broke down so completely that I can't even figure out how to turn the biatch on. It's dead. My friend told me that her son takes old computers out and shoots them, literally, as stress relief, and I am seriously thinking of donating one worthless, never-worked-right laptop to the cause.
   But this laptop, as old and junkie as it happens to be, is one that I can somehow manage to keep fixing, even if that does involve many mornings with all my hair pulled out and extensive usage of every single sentence-enhancing cuss word I can think of. At one time, I was thinking that I would never get a Dell again, but at this point, I am thinking, shit, at least I can keep the damn thing running when I do inevitably break it.
   Which leads to now, because, of course, this hunk of junk isn't working right. First, the thing would turn on, but it wouldn't load any of my desktop stuff, so I couldn't see my shortcuts. So I ran some diskcheck thing-y, having no ideal what that would do, and I still have no ideal what it did do, but my screen would load. But they would load sloooooooooooooooooooooow when I tried to open them. I could literally walk away, cook dinner, come back, and the thing would still be loading. So I ran virus programs and did system restores and things loaded faster, but part of my screen popped off and hit me in the head.
   You would think that would make me give up, right? Shit's flying at my head, time to throw in the towel here. But you see, I just got pissed. Started thinking, "Oh, it's on now." I am going to beat this computer. I am going to win. And also, I have duct tape. If you ever grew up in Mississippi, in the country, surrounded by rednecks as far as the eye can see, then you too would know that duct tape can fix just about anything.
   So for now, things seem to be working back to normal, which is still pretty crappy, all things said, but I don't exactly have the money for a new laptop at the moment. You see.... there where some books that I had to have... And now I have them; all 12 of them. I'm broke, but I am pretty damn content.
   But I am dealing with a picky, stubborn ass computer, than my picky, stubborn ass self is refusing to replace (again), so we'll see how often I am actually able to get on the internet and post things. I have a feeling that in the next year or so, I am going to have no choice but to replace this monster, but I am gonna hold out until the bitter end this time.

99.9% Germ Free, And Why I Get To Finally Feel Justified About My Lack Of Cleaning Skills

   I did it again; I opened the door to a man with a clipboard. What is this weird obsession that I have about opening the door to people with clipboards? I don't understand. But I digress, this man with the clipboard was claiming to be some kind of salesperson for a carpet cleaning company and what he wanted was to be allowed to come in and clean a section of my carpet for free as a sample of his work.
   Of course I said no. I am not a very trusting person at all, and there is no way in any kind of hell that I am letting some random stranger from some random company come into my home. I barely let friends and family come up in here. This is my space. If I were a cat, I'd spray the whole apartment down so bad you could smell the stench the next state over. Which is really gross, I admit, but the point is here, that I am a territorial person and there was no way that this man was coming in my apartment, even if my carpet could use shampooing like you  wouldn't believe.
   I think I have talked about the fact that I am no housekeeper. I hate to clean. I don't want to live in filth, so I keep my apartment picked up enough so that strange new life isn't forming in the fridge and the toilet bowl, but that's about as good as it gets: no strange new life forms. I think the last time I dusted was, well, when I first moved in. Wait a minute, about three months or so ago, my sister came over, and she wrote 'Wash Me' in the dust on my bookcase, and I did dust enough to erase her little love note. So if dusting off the words on a few shelves counts as dusting, then I dusted three months ago.
   I am waging a war with the pine needles that like to track into my apartment on the bottoms of people's shoes, so I actually vacuum quite often, but I don't know what the deal is with these pine needles liking to be in my apartment, because my carpet can start resembling the forest floor about five minutes after vacuuming; I don't get it. I do laundry about once a week, and my mom once told me that watching me take laundry out of the dryer was like watching clowns come out of those little tiny cars; they keep coming and coming and you wonder how they all managed to fit in there. I admit that I wash rather large loads, but that's only because I hate laundry with a passion; more than any other cleaning chore --  more that even scrubbing out the toilet. Larger loads = less loads. I do dishes regularly too; no new life forms in the sink either, but if I happen to have a large amount of company over, I make them all eat off of paper plates. I have no desire to wash massive amounts of dishes, even if I do happen to like the people eating off of them.
    What's the point of all my running down my list of cleaning habits (or lack thereof)? Well, the other day, my mother, who also happens to have like around twenty or so years of nursing experience was telling me that all those little anti-bacterial cleaning products, you know, the ones that kill 99.9% of all germs, are breeding super-viruses, or something like that. All this germ-free existence is: 1) not giving our immune systems a lot of practice fighting shit off, and 2) bacteria are evolving to be stronger than ever because we are giving them plenty of practice fighting. So this woman, who gave birth to me, who has known me for the whole 32 years of my life, is sitting there, in all earnestness, lecturing me about using too many anti-bacterial products, and telling me soap and water is just fine, and I am looking at her, saying "Mom, seriously? Nothing in this apartment is 99.9% germ free. I think our immune systems are getting plenty of practice here." She did concede the point; I think my sister better prepare herself for that lecture, because mom's preaching to the choir here.
    But regardless, maybe the next time some random carpet cleaner comes over to your house offering to clean your carpet, you should think of super-bacteria, and not let him in. That, or the fact that he just might be an ax-murderer. Either way, you're gonna die, so just make him stay his happy-ass outside.