Train Wrecks, Dr. Laura & Throwing Tinkerbell Under the Bus

T-minus 5-4-3-2-1… Ta-da… another school year almost ended… just a few more days left and I am free at last… but before the prospect of summer consumes me, we must address and clarify a few things. I know in some twisted, warped way, you’re dying to know how the entire yearbook distribution thing worked out. It’s like watching a train wreck in slow-mo. You say you don’t want to watch, but you do. You don’t want to know, but I betcha I can catch you taking a sneaky peak.

It’s the reason why I like to listen to such shows as Dr. Laura. While it may suck to be me on any particular day, it sure sucks more to be them… In some twisted way, I find comfort in that. So let’s clear up a few misconceptions…


The Publishing Fairies & the Journalism gods
Typo-seeking Tinkerbell does not live in the publications room waiving her cute little fairy wand banishing all mistakes. If she did, I’d wring her little neck for falling down on the job and publicly sacrifice her to the journalism gods.

But whoa Nellie, before we willy-nilly go throwing poor Tinkerbell under the bus, let’s focus on the fact that with 264 pages, more than 3,000 photographs, 100,000 plus gajillion words and well over 2,000 names something somewhere will be wrong.

Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.

There I feel better.

Oh, dear me, according to my VP of Humor Control, I’m starting to sound, well, a bit bitter and, well, “negative.”

OK, OK, OK… Let’s take a positive look-see at all of this. I think we got about 99 percent right. After all, we really only had two complaints and we did sell out of all our extra books in a record two and half hours. I know that doesn’t make the 1 percenters feel any better. All I can do is say I’m sorry that we were/are such big, fat stupidheads (and, yes, I suppose that does stop the Stupidhead Clock on the right).

And perhaps next time, I’ll suggest that they listen to Dr. Laura, too.

Sad Sacks & Snakebites
OK, OK, OK, I admit it. I spent most of last week feeling sorry for myself and yelling at anyone and everyone who would listen. The staffers just sighed and did what they do best--ignore me--while I continually mumbled how children suck the life right out of you.

And, then the really, really, really (did I say really?) absolutely fab-u-lously nice art teacher who is next to my classroom came to school with her arm in a sling and her hand swollen three times its normal size.

Snake bite.

As in Copperhead… as in poisonous snake.

Suddenly sorting all those yearbooks and listening to the naysayers wasn’t so bad after all, ya know what I mean?

And then my BFF from the east coast called telling my something about how there were goats in her school parking lot and how she had to grab them by the horns and try to toss them back over the fence. Jeez.

Uh-oh gotta go… I think it’s time to listen to Dr. Laura.