Parents all over the land have received reams of paper in the mail, half of which is useless and can go straight into the trash, and the other half of which contains vital information that you will never again be able to access in any form.
Andrew is in first grade, so this is my second year dealing with the onslaught, and I thought I was prepared (I've pretty much given up on Will's school. I've been a parent there for 4 years now, and they know I am completely useless and fuck everything up by forgetting things like snack or to pick up my child at the end of the day).
However, once again I have been bested by the school district. I'm pretty sure that I threw away the all-important piece of paper with the Byzantine system for organizing each school day by letters A-F (don't ask).
Which might not sound like a big deal, but certain things like gym and art and music only happen on certain letter days, and if (for example) your kid goes to school on a gym day and isn't wearing sneakers they make him sit on a bench and watch everyone else play for the whole period. And don't tell you.
And good fucking luck trying to get another copy of the schedule, because no. Just... no. It isn't possible. Trust me. So, you know, there's that.
I did purchase all the items on Andrew's teacher's list and got it all to school the day it was due, although of course I fucked that up, too. Andrew came home from school that day and said, "Did you know, Mama, that ALL the pencils you sent to school with me were UNSHARPENED???"
I did see on the list that we were supposed to send in two boxes of #2 SHARPENED pencils. I was also smart enough to realize that the chances of me buying said pencils, taking them out of the box (all 48 of them - two boxes of 24), sharpening them, and returning them to the box to be packed up with the rest of the crap on the list was never, ever, ever going to happen.
Thankfully, Amazon sells presharpened pencils for assholes like me who can't be bothered to sharpen their kids' pencils. And I was positive I bought the presharpened pencils, but of course when I went back to Amazon and looked, I had purchased regular pencils by accident. It's my kid's third day of school, and I have already failed first grade.
Anyway, enough about kids and all the shit you have to get for them! Don't I deserve new clothes too, even if I didn't outgrow all my old ones? No? OK, fine. (OMG Ted I heard you say "no" the first time you total cheapskate!) But I am getting new notebooks. A lot of new notebooks.
(I'll come clean right now: this is one of those really annoying blog posts where there are no links to any of the shit in the pictures. So when you want to buy one (or more) of the following notebooks - and you will - go to google and type in the text from the cover and the word "notebook." You should be able to find it that way. Sorry, but I'm too busy looking for that fucking schedule provide your lazy ass with links.)
This notebook is ideal for work. I plan on taking it to important meetings, leaving it on the table long enough for everyone to read the cover, and then after anyone says something stupid I'll just pick it up and take a quick note. In other, totally unrelated news, I may soon be looking for a job - hit me up on LinkedIn.
It's hard to say which one of these gems I like more. There's something about "that's what she said" that never gets old for me. Same thing with the response "your mom, " or really any indication of inappropriate relations with someone's mother. Always funny. Yes, I have the sense of humor of a 12-year-old boy. But the first notebook in this pair is even better because yes, everyone else IS doing it wrong. Why don't people just LISTEN to me???
Such obvious genius. I am an overthinker in just my regular, unaltered state (well, unaltered by illegal substances). So once I smoke pot, shit gets intense. And one of the questions I always (every. single. fucking. time.) find myself overthinking is: Would this concept be equally awesome if I weren't high as a kite? With this handy item around to jot things down, I will finally have an answer.
Oh, Yoda, sage of the Star Wars chronicles. Confucius has nothing on you. And you uttered many pearls of wisdom, including but not limited to, "Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering." And, "Always pass on what you have learned." But the ultimate advice is right here - words to live by, indeed. (None of this is sarcastic, by the way. I am a total Star Wars loser and mean every word)
I was a terrible student. Terrible. I exerted the least possible effort at the last possible minute. The fact that I got through an Ivy League institution at all, let alone in four years and with decent grades, is an embarrassment to higher education in America. But I am an awesome employee, and have been since my first internship. I work incredibly hard, am intensely loyal, and don't try to steal the job of the person I work for. However, I realized early on in my career (such as it is) that you don't need to work very hard to be successful, because most people are doing even less. It seems to me that most people try much harder as students than they do as workers. Either that or most people are just morons, and I met more of them once I graduated from college.
I will buy these two at a time, so that when I reach the end of one I don't have to scramble around while waiting for the replacement to come in the mail.
No one likes a person who goes around saying "I told you so." Unfortunately, I speak from personal experience. Now people like me, who are right about everything but no one ever listens, can vent their validated feelings in writing and possibly hang on to whatever friends they still have.
Obviously, one purchases this set and immediately throws the "hipsters" one into the trash, because who the fuck has ever met a hipster they liked? But the other two are a great way (if you don't take the word "met" too seriously) to keep track of books and art that you come across and fall in love with. The stuff we love probably defines us better than anything else, even better than the stuff we create.
Yeah, yeah, I know. I don't really see this happening either, but it's nice to have goals.
Isn't this what most notebooks really are, in the end? The only difference between your stupid Filofax or Moleskine and this gem is refreshing honesty. And there's nothing I love as much as refreshing honesty (except blissful ignorance). The first thing I'll be putting down in this one is "Find that stupid class schedule."