"Oh. You don't say?"

I don't know if I should be glad or worried that my skin has thickened to the point that I almost laugh in the face of pretty scathing insults. Maybe it's a matter of survival; maybe I'm becoming increasingly disturbed; or maybe I'm being sucked into some vortex of self confidence that helps me to deflect the loads of crap kids blurt each day. Even if you think you know me well, this week has illuminated things that even I didn't know about myself.

1. English is not History class, so you just need to stop with the History already. Aren't we supposed to be putting those little things in sentences...you know, those things, Ms. Freeman. Commas and stuff.

"Oh. You don't say?"

2. You don't want kids to learn; you just don't know what it means to teach. At least other people want us to do well. You keep failing us because you don't want us to play sports or anything. You're just sad.

"Oh. You don't say?"

3. As a matter of fact, you should just stop teaching the History behind some of this writing. History isn't even real.

"Oh. You don't say?"

4. I don't even know how you got a man who looks like that to like you. You just want everyone to be nerdy, and he is NOT nerdy. But you're probably going to make it.

"Oh. You don't say?"

5. You always follow the rules. Always. You are the only person who follows all the rules all the time. I mean, don't you ever get tired of being nerdy and boring all the time, Ms. Freeman? You really should just break a rule sometime.

"Oh. You don't say?"

6. I know you keep telling us you can't control the thermostat, but I think you just make it cold in here because you know we don't like it. You like it when we're uncomfortable. That's because you're a bad teacher.

"Oh. You don't say?"

7. You don't teach college. You just tell us that because you want to look like you know what you're doing.

"Oh. You don't say?"

8. That's your brother? (pointing to the picture of the boyfriend) Gross! You date your brother?!? You white people don't make sense.

"Oh. You don't say?"

9. You never teach us any English stuff. We're always reading and writing and looking up words and annotating. When are we going to do the English stuff. I don't even think you teach the right stuff.

"Oh. You don't say?"

10. *refuses to complete work; gets progress report* What?! I'm failing?! This is stupid. You think you can just give me grades? That's what you do. You just give out grades because you don't actually want us to do well. Other teachers help us; you never help.

"Oh. You don't say?"

If I continued, I might actually start to question my purpose in life. That, or I'd laugh hysterically to keep from crying at how misguided and skewed the opinions are. For now, I'll don my duck feathers and let it all roll off. According to this bunch, I'm just as well to join the circus. I have a 25lb cat and could probably learn to jump through flaming hula hoops; it may not be a glamorous life, but it sounded cool when I read Water for Elephants.

Inspired by the Gym Rats

Yep. I've officially been inspired...by the gym rats. As of late, I've become one of them. My days revolve around going to the gym, and most of the time it's super early morning and a great way to start the day. Going with my friend, April, is a great way to workout because we push one another to go harder than we would otherwise. All of this being said, I've been inspired to address the scenery that is the gym. Take it for what you paid for it; my opinion is not golden, but I'm going to share it any how.

Ladies, ladies, ladies. What are ya doin? My version of workout clothes is dry fit everything, a bandana or headband, and a bottle of water. Running shoes and headphones accompany my moisture wicking garb, and I sweat my tail off while haphazardly wiping my face with a ruddy old kitchen towel. That is what the gym should look like. But no. No. You sashay in with your oversized tank top, spandex booty shorts, and 3/4 high top tennis shoes. You clearly straightened your hair and put on a full face of makeup just before you donned the sideways, flat-billed ball cap. Are we being punked? Kudos to everyone who chuckled at that.

This is the gym. It's 2014. You didn't just walk onto the set of a Vanilla Ice music video, and you are not a video vixen. Unfortunately, it appears the men folk enjoy your kind and only give the obligatory smile to mine...mine being the sweaty, pitiful looking (yet obviously hard working) type. Your leggings and sports bra do not have to color coordinate, and perfume? Really? I'm just hoping my deodorant holds up! I certainly envy the way you manhandle the free weights, but I am not in love with your overly botoxed, clearly augmented physique.

Ladies, be you. If you go to the gym and get the muscles because you love it, then more power to you. If you go to the gym because you're worried about how you look to others, then shame on you. Be confident. I go to the gym to maintain my eating habit, and that makes me happy.  There's not much more satisfying than feeling healthy but eating what I want and enjoying my food. Life's too short to bypass heart-healthy activities, but it's also too short to go to the gym looking like I'm in a 1990s fitness competition. :)

I think I'll find something chocolate to eat...