Obi Wan, Diamonds, & a Skeleton Key

Originally Posted November 7, 2007

So what's the weirdest thing you have in your desk right now?

As a teacher I often find a lot of things just lying around my classroom. I also confiscate stuff that kids are playing with in class. Most of these things end up in my lower-left desk drawer without another thought to them. Today I had some extra time, so I decide to clean out my desk. I had quite an adventure looking at all of the things I've collected over my last 4 years at Harrison. I thought I'd share some of them with you...

1. A miniature figurine of Obi Wan with movable arms and legs (he's seen in the photo riding a supercool motorcycle and also with the mini terrorist playing cards)- which leads me to number 2

2. A miniature deck of terrorist playing cards, featuring Saddam Hussein as the Ace of Spades. Either the third graders were playing poker at recess or thought they might run into a terrorist on the teeter-totter. Maybe a little of both...

3. A tennis bracelet, only missing 1 stone. The third grader who gave it for me did an appraisal and said they were "real diamonds".

4. Someone's house key. If I ever find out who it belongs to...HOUSE PARTY!!

5. A crochet hook- ??? not a clue where this one came from

6. A tiny lock and large skeleton key

7. The ever popular superball. Which is no longer in my desk drawer since I was having fun bouncing it off the walls when I found it, and now it has disappeared...

8. One perfect attendance pin. Show up at all my parties and it's yours!

9. A matchbox ambulance. Perfect for transporting Obi Wan to the hospital after he falls off the supercool motorcycle. Unfortunately for him I didn't find a miniature helmet.

Last but not least...

10. Bloody tooth in a bag. (too graphic for the picture) I don't know how someone didn't miss this one, but I just found it on the floor. I keep forgetting to bring it home and put it under my pillow.

Well, that's just some of the weird stuff in my desk. What's the strangest thing in your desk?

Guess Who's Coming to Dinner

So I guess I’m now cooking Christmas dinner for my parents. Our plans for Christmas had been to go to the Ramada buffet on Christmas day. If you know me, you know I HATE buffets, but was willing to endure the so-so food to make my parents happy. Although it was quite festive last year watching children play in the “oh so classy” chocolate fondue fountain. But my dad called tonight and said that he couldn’t make reservations because the Ramada will not be open this year because of some management problems. He said not to worry that we would find somewhere else to go. And then he uttered a statement that I swear stopped my heart. He said, “There’s always Golden Coral.”
Now, to understand why this sends shivers down my spine, we must rewind back to last Thanksgiving…

Last Thanksgiving my family (me, my mom, and my dad) were supposed to go to my aunt’s house for dinner. At the last minute my mom got sick, and my dad didn’t want to go that far. He suggested the two of us go out to eat instead, “Golden Coral is open,” he said. As much as I hated the thought, I went because I knew that’s what he wanted to do. I had no idea how bad it would actually be. Let me start by saying normal families do not go to Golden Coral on Thanksgiving. If your family was there, I’m not apologizing. Just face it, you’re not normal. Anyway, I digress. I honestly do not know where they found the people to populate the restaurant on this particular day. Possibly a bus traveled into the past to the old “Let’s Make a Deal” television show and Monty Hall opened up door #3 and announced “Road trip for everyone!”

For example, as I walked up to get my salad (which is about all I can stomach at a buffet) I came upon a woman in a jumper. Now there’s nothing too out of the ordinary about a woman in a jumper, except this woman was not wearing a shirt under this jumper. It was 20 degrees outside and this woman was wearing a plaid jumper with no shirt. Oh, and there was the bow tie. Yes, she had on a plaid jumper with no shirt and a black bowtie.

The best though was what happened to be sitting right in front of me. Sitting in front of me was a woman, or what I thought was a woman until he/she turned around. This person had on an orange vest, a bright, florescent orange vest. As if the vest wasn’t blinding enough in its natural state, when the man stood up, the vest had been bedazzled with “Jesus Loves You, " across the back. A bedazzled Jesus vest. I could die. I had now seen everything there was to see. Well, that's what I thought until he (I was pretty sure it was a he at that point) put on the hat. Yes, there was a hat. It was black felt with a wide brim. And there were streamers. Like the streamers attached the end of a little girl’s bicycle handlebars, there were red and blue streamers adorning this hat. The hat on the head of the man in the bedazzled Jesus vest.

So, as soon as my dad blurted those two most dreaded words, I swear I had a vision of sitting there on Christmas Day, walking to the buffet, and drowning myself in the large vat of orange jello with pineapple chunks.
I couldn’t let it happen. No more holiday atrocities. I immediately offered to make dinner. Dad did try to protest, but I said that my mom had never seen my house, and they should just come over here. It would be NO problem for me to make dinner. Anyway, I like to cook, and I will do anything, absolutely anything to never, ever, have to go to Golden Coral for any holiday again. Unless of course…it’s Halloween.

Epic Adventures

Original post date: October 28, 2007

People are always saying things to me like, “that only ever happens to you.” For some reason, I seem to be a magnet for hilarious & often bizarre events. Maybe it’s a combination of my klutziness and craziness. Maybe it’s that I’m willing to try pretty much anything. Maybe it’s because I make friends with almost anyone I meet, leading me to end up in strange situations with these new friends. Maybe it’s because I share my name with Lucy’s best friend from the “I Love Lucy” show, and heaven knows those two got into countless interesting adventures. Well, whatever the reason, I have an abundance of nutty stories just floating around in notebooks, journals, and my head. Now that I finally feel like writing again I’ve decided it’s time to share some of them. So as I have time I’ll start posting them so all of you, my friends, can share my “I can’t believe it” moments.

What is a Mz.?

Mz. [miz]
noun plural Mzes.

1. a title of respect prefixed to a woman’s name. Unlike Miss or Mrs. it does not depend upon or indicate her marital status.

2. a state of mind, one who is free from stereotypes


So, what exactly is a Mz. and what is the purpose of this blog?

Those of you who know me well know I’ve been on a long and hard journey in the last couple of years. I started this school year finally feeling settled and content with my new life. So I decided to make my name fit my current state of being. After years of being Mrs. Ringle, I decided to make the very slight change to Ms. Ringle. (It also subtly ended the questions I would sometimes get from parents about my husband or when I was going to have a baby- which by the way is a truly rude and personal question)

Anyway, a few months ago I was listening to one of my favorite podcasts “You Look Nice Today”. The guys on the program somehow got on the subject of “The Ms.” They made a stereotypical profile of a “divorcee, lonely, and frumpy woman that knew how to knit, read mysteries, had basic cable, and liked cats” And even though it was very funny, I was still somewhat offended. I DO NOT know how to knit…well, anymore. And there’s nothing wrong with basic cable!

Since then a few of my friends (you know who you are- CRAIG) made fun of me and my Ms. status. If I go home early and put on sweats, I’m becoming a Ms. When I put the electric blanket on my bed, I’m a Ms. When I used my great-grandmother’s quilt on my guest bed, total Ms.

So one day I decided, I’m not a Ms. and I don’t want to be a Ms. I decided that I would be a Mz. instead. No difference you say? Well, to me there is. I live free from stereotypes. I’m not sitting at home waiting for life to happen to me. I’m making my life happen. So I’m a Mz. (besides, how often do you get to use Z’s anyway?)

And the reason for the blog? I’ve always been a writer, and I needed a creative outlet for all my random brain barf. I started a blog on my myspace account awhile ago, but I didn’t really like the format, so I decided to move my files here. Thus “Snuggie Tales” was born.

Why “Snuggie Tales”?- You’ll have to wait for another post for that one.