I'm sooo ready for you, Daniel Craig

I am the proud new owner of a Halliburton, and therefore one step closer to my lifelong dream of owning a briefcase full of money.

This dream began at my first viewing of Casino Royale (the 21st-century one; best James Bond flick EVER, btw, and not just because of Daniel Craig's "... perfectly formed a--") when, in the first chapters of the movie, some dude pulls out a briefcase of money as a bribe or to tantalize towards future payment, as is de rigueur in these kinds of stories. Anyway, I'm not sure what was happening exactly, and I seem to have blocked out the events leading up to the opening of that blessed case, because all I remember is: at that moment, time (or the movie) stopped for me-- all I could think was, "How can I get a brief/suitcase full of money??"  I was completely distracted for the next 10-15 minutes, working out in my head if my monthly allowance/paycheck would produce enough stacks of ones to create a convincingly full case. And then Daniel Craig came back on and I abandoned those musings, he is pretty. Totally didn't care that I was now lost in the storyline and had to ask eva what happened.

But now, I'm well on my way towards realizing my dream! We art teachers recently scavenged the now-abandoned photo lab in anticipation of its impending demolition (next-door neighbor of my previous classroom, the legendary Woodshop, also soon-to-be demolished), and I came out WINNER. That aluminum beauty was just sitting there, ripe for the taking, and not one of the other art teachers--scrambling for a chair or papercutter or maybe a plastic measuring cup--had any idea what they were overlooking until I screamed "HALLIBURTON!!!" and grabbed it up. I'm not going to lie, it pumped my adrenaline a little bit.  Then my adrenaline slowed as I realized it was locked.... Then it pepped back up a little when we also realized that the number combination, handily, had been marked/etched right above the lock.

(Which I photoshopped out of this image... like I'm going to put it out there for all to see! As if.)

If I ever do get it filled with money, I think that'll put me right in line to be the next Bond Girl, at maybe #37 or so.  I would also deign to play the Supporting Role Bond Girl, she usually gets a few admiring glances from 007; acceptable consolation prize.

I don't quite have the money yet, though, so I've got to figure out what to put in my case in the meantime. Eva says it doesn't really matter, since 'Halliburton' screams "valuable goods inside!", so people will steal it from me no matter what. Maybe I'll just dress like a federal agent and walk through the airport with it handcuffed to my wrist, so I can be mistaken for an Air Marshall and get first-class perks.  (LOST has taught me well.)

Any ideas? What do you people put in your Halliburtons?

'96 Jetta vs. '00 Solara. Jetta wins.

I got into my first car accident on Saturday. My first-- EVER--collision. Sure, people have hit me before... as in backed into me in a parking lot as I was driving, or hit-and-ran (is there a past tense of that?) as I was parked (allegedly, obviously I wasn't there to see it; but I don't know how else to explain the huge fender dents that have mysteriously appeared over the years).

But never in a moving accident. My record is (was) squeaky-clean: Not one insurance claim, not one moving violation (not that I haven't been at fault; or is it my fault the officer(s) have chosen not to cite me? :)

And so that is why, after slamming on my brakes and ramming into the car in front of me 1. which had suddenly stopped after the car in front of her braked, barely hitting him, and 2. whose brake lights I couldn't see illuminated due to the setting sun behind us, the victim and I got out of our cars and I said, "uh, what do we do now?" (after apologizing profusely, of course). My new BCF (Best Collision Friend) and I were both car-crash-virgins and both on our way to Second Jobs in the Mall, next door to each other even, so we called our places of employ and then spent the next few minutes pretending to know what info we were supposed to be writing down as we took cell phone pictures of the damage and other cars whizzed by yelling at us for being stopped in the left lane (because four lanes each way on a city street just aren't enough).

Then the real excitement happened.

I hear sirens, and see an ambulence and fire truck going down the other side of the street, and think, "wow, there must be a real accident somewhere..." and then they make a u-turn at the end of the grassy median and head towards us! And then, from the opposite direction, a man comes jay-jogging across the traffic and tells us that the Victim hit HIM, albeit without damage, and that he didn't want us to think he had just driven off so we would blame him from afar. He also said that he had called 911, and hung up because he'd been put on hold for a while (nice). No WONDER they sent the cavalry out to inspect (the cops and a tow truck surfaced later). I know it was all just-in-case, and I felt bad that so many civil servants had put in all that effort unnecessarily, but it also struck me at that moment as dramatically funny... and I would have been laughing, except that I was too upset at my mistake, the ensuing cost of my insurance deductible, and of course the demise of my perfect driving record.

On the bright side, there were no bodily injuries (except my pride) and all that insurance I've paid over the years will buy me a nice new hard-water-stain-free and insect-fossil-free hood, bumper, grate and headlights. Yeah! And in the meantime, it's super-fun to be driving along to work and hear a *clunk* and realize that my headlight has fallen out, yet again.

(I did finally tape it in place today, but have not yet as-requested-by-mi-Padre duct-taped the hood down. He's convinced it could fly up as I drive. I'm convinced I can't even open it by yanking, it's jammed shut at the latch, and I am freakishly strong.)

Soo... anyone want to lend me their car while mine is in the shop? I have an almost-perfect-driving record, I swear :)

p.s. the Jetta involved only suffered surface scratches, not even a dent. 21st-Century Japan does NOT want to get into a fight with 20th-Century Germany, I am TELLING you.

DONNA MARTIN GRADUATES!

INSULT of the DAY! 

A New Feature here in DOEZIELAND

Let me start by acknowledging two things:

1) Because I grew up with two older brothers who teased me incessantly from a young age (- on), I'm pretty thick-skinned. It takes a lot to really, personally offend me (aside from foul language, ignorance, 

poor spelling and sacrilege-- the obvious offenses-- and a couple personal-to-me things that only a few people would know bothered me anyway)... I usually just think it's funny that a person would actually SAY something rude or insulting, esp. as they usually don't mean it. (And if they DO mean it-- how idiotic are they?! You really have to laugh at people like that...)

and

2) I know that I do bear some resemblance to Tori Spelling. 

So here's what happened today... I usually come home almost daily with some hilarious remark made by a student who wasn't trying to be insulting but whose comment came out that way anyway ("Ohhh, Miss Doezie-

- you always tried, with your hair...  I know if it wasn't so hot, you'd have been more adventurous") ("Maybe you don't look different in this photo, because you look so old--?") ("HAHAHA, MISS DOEZIE, YOU'RE LIKE A WHITE QUEEN LATIFAH"), but TODAY, the gem of the week came from a fellow teacher.

A very nice, amiable, friendly man, married, teacher of history, and a member of our Wednesday Wild Lunch Bunch (yessss.... teachers... eating dessert together, living on the edge), Mr. So-and-So (I actually can't remember his name) likes to make comments about my striking resemblance to one Tori Spelling. I laugh along, ha ha ha, yes, I've heard it before, but not so much in recent years as when we had the same cowlick-y hairstyle while I was attending P-- High School and she was almost-not-graduating from West Beverly High, 90210...

...and apparently, summer vacation didn't cause him to forget about this astounding separated-at-birth miracle/tragedy. Today, walking out of the room at the end of lunch, he asks me, "So, how's DEAN?" (guffaw, guffaw) ...  It took me a split second to realize he was playing that I was Tori and he was inquiring about my real-life husband, but as soon as I did, I har-har'd right back and then shot even further back with a playful, "Yeah.... see, I consider that an insult...!" 

Mr. History hurried to reassure me by stating, "Oh, no, you're WAY smarter than her," but... I never thought he was comparing our intelligences. (Hello--- OBVIOUS that that's not what was implying all along, since his first "hey, you're like Tori Spelling"-- I mean, come on, she is vapid compared to my impressive Mensa genius); so I clarified my "offense" by adding, "Um--no, I meant she is UG-LY!!"

And...

He stopped in his tracks, turned around to face me in the midst of kids streaming by as they rushed to 5th period, startled face like a deer in headlights, and said... nothing. 

Pause.

"oh.. uh, well... hmm."

Hands hanging to his sides, desperately clutching a thermo-lunchbox, he turned away-- turned back-- glanced fleetingly at my face once more, mouth opening and closing, and then... hurried off in the opposite direction.

GENIUS. 

That was the hardest I laughed, all day...

RISE, ALL LOYAL COUGARS

So, 7 days before BYU completely crushed UCLA, I watched my very first football game! I've been to many, I was True Blue in my B-Y-Utah days and I currently annually attend one token football game at AHS (the Homecoming one... fireworks! Naming of the Queen and King! 400-member marching band and a 100-member Color Guard that's actually cool!), but... watch them? Really?

Uh, no. I watch the crowd, the people around me, the cheerleaders (those mini girls-- so cute, so amazing in their high-flying feats!), whatever game-appropriate food I'm eating... but NOT the game.

Maybe here and there, and I sure have fun singing the fight song when we score (or is it goal?) (just kidding) (although it's not far off that I would think that), trying to get on the JumboTron (as taught by my bro) and cheering when everyone else cheers... but... I usually am distracted by everything else but the plays, and have no idea what is going on. In fact, in high school when I was a cheerleader-- a CHEERLEADER-- I had no idea what "Offense" or "Defense" was. (In terms of football, that is-- I'm not a complete idiot). I would just listen to the Varsity cheerleaders and whatever they called (Offense! Defense!), my squad would cheer accordingly! It was AWESOME. Very influential and educating time in my life.

But, ever since my Daddy be-gifted me with a sweet pair of high-powered Nikon 'nocs (the salesman at the hunting-based sporting goods store was frankly appalled when I said my primary use for them would be "...y'know, to watch Broadway shows, look at stars, n'stuff..."), everything is bigger, better, and zoomed-in crystal clear.

So THIS game-- BYU Cougars vs. U of Washington Huskies-- was a whole new world! And man am I glad I watched the whole game, almost every play, and almost all of those through my 'nockers-- because it was AMAZING.

(still watched the cheerleaders, though... but even they were better through binoculars. Orange face makeup!)

My dad and my little sister Kate both live in Washington, and my dad spent some of his retirement/our inheritance (good use of either!) to fly my bro Chad and I out for the game... we'd done the same two years earlier, except we all met in Colorado, and it was such a great family time that we decided to do it again! The fourth child, my oldest brother, Shall Not Be Named in this post because he couldn't come this year, boooooo.

Chad and my dad are True Blue, and I had a rockin' shirt (self-made-- it was one of the demos for when I teach the kiddies how to screen print on t-shirts) with the best portion of the Fight Song on it,

but KATE... ohhhhh, Kate-- actually attended U-Dub, so she was sporting the Blue purely out of peer pressure, the fear of being pummeled since she was sitting in the visitor's section, and-- well, because Chad gave her the shirt as a birthday gift--, BUT-- was also wearing purple underneath!!! She is dead to us. I don't care if it was a precaution just in case UW won.

Shouldn't have feared, though, because.... WE WON! BIG-time. Take that, Huskies!

The game was great, the day was beautiful, and Washington is my dream state-- I love being there in late summer especially, because there are wild blackberries everywhere! Including along the path we took to get back to our car, post-football-victory ...

YUM

And, the final gift of the day-- the classic, beloved Half of the Face sunburn... that brought back memories! You could always tell by the placement of the sunburn, where someone had been sitting at the game that day. Not-so-cute when you were trying to accomplish Cute Sunday at your university ward the next day, but... no less a badge of honor. And a pretty bold statement that you, YOU, are a COUGAR.

An exceptional weekend all together, and Washington chose to bid me a fond farewell with some SPECTACULAR views of its mid-state icon, Mount Rainier, through my airplane window as I flew home Sunday night. Thanks, Washington!

(views as we passed over and by Mount Rainier, out the left side of the plane... I had my little point-and-shoot camera on its widest lens position, to just TRY to fit what I was seeing in the frame-- amazing! ENJOY! ) (copyright jdoezie2008, by the way. Steal, and die.)

If she's 23 already, that means I'm .... oh no.

(... that old? really?) -But, this isn't about me. It's about my little sister, who celebrated her 23rd birthday this week and I just can't believe it! So this post is for her... Look how gorgeous she is! (here with me and our niece at a doezie family reunion a few weeks ago). And blue eyes not to be believed... I keep thinking she's wearing contacts, because who has eyes that naturally electric blue?? I sure didn't get them, thanks a lot Mom, for having stronger genes than Dad... oh, not about me, not about me. Back to her eyes-- yeah, they're real. (I checked). And photos don't do them justice.





But even better than her eyes... my little sister is smart, ambitious, lovely on the inside as well as the outside, graceful, a sweetheart, a lover of animals (well, her kitten, at least; I have no idea if she tortures rodents/insects/rat dogs/amphibians on the side), virtually without guile (how boring, if she were TOTALLY without guile), and has matured into just a fantastic young woman. Adult. Woman of Today. Lady of Tomorrow. Whatever.

HAPPY HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

AAAAAAAHHHGCK.. AAahhgk... guhh.. gek. gh.

Slowly... dying...  Not only can't believe school's back in session, REALLY can't believe it's only been back in session for TWO DAYS. Feels like four, AT LEAST (but really more like a couple of weeks).  So... tired... how do you people work all year long??

2 school days down, 178 to go until next summer...

             kayaking in Rarotonga, Cook Islands, summer (July/August) 2004... I heart summer. I heart it so so much.