No Happy Meal Here

A few weeks ago, I received a coupon for a free meal at McDonald's. Each time I've driven by those golden arches, I've thought of this free meal offer, but hesitated to stop in due to my slight obsession with eating healthy. But today in the joy that is a SNOW DAY, I decided to indulge in some McD's and even told Ryan this morning that because I've eaten so awesome lately that I might even SUPER SIZE IT lol. Needless to say, I was excited about this free meal from Ronald McDonald.

So there I am-- standing in line at McDonald's and looking up at a menu that 45 pounds ago I knew by heart lol. But as I look up at the menu of french fries, Angus burgers, and quarter pounders with cheese, something unexpected happens. I realize in that very line that NONE OF THIS SOUNDS GOOD TO ME. I try to find something that does, so I inquire to the lady behind the register about the club sandwich, but as she lists off, "fried chicken, lots of bacon, cheese, mayo," my stomach starts to cry out, "No, Erica, no!"

I pull out my phone and text Ryan, "I couldn't do it." With minimal embarrassment, I explain to the nice McDonald's lady that I changed my mind and will use this coupon another time. It was such a crazy feeling that I thought I was going to reward myself with a treat, when really from all the hard work at choosing brocolli over fries and saying no to greasy burgers, I had indeed CHANGED my food preferences. And so it was just five minutes later that I stood in line at Subway while they made my oven roasted chicken breast-- no cheese, no sauce, but lots of veggies.

And you know what? It was one happy meal. :)

Heard around the classroom of Miss Dyer

Cute girl in my class #1: "Oh Miss Dyer- I love that you grade our work in pink instead of red. It's so...."

Cute girl in my class #2: "It's sooo Miss Dyer is what it is!"

Cute girl in my class #1: "Yes- it is definitely so Miss Dyer. Red is so old school- hot pink is totally the new red... I'm glad you recognize that, Miss Dyer."

And then another quotable moment from WALB who was introduced to us a couple of blogs ago...

WALB: "Oh man, I just threw up."

Me: "What?! Where, Austin?" (as I stare at the gallon of red Kool-Aid he just brought with him to class today, no big deal- TOTALLY normal?!)

WALB: "Oh. Did I forget to say 'in my mouth'? I just threw up in my mouth. But it was so gross, you know how..."

Me: (interrupting him before the kid next to him ACTUALLY throws up) "Okay, we're good, Austin. Thanks."

And let's end on a note of the joy that it is for me to work with high school boys...

I'm giving my students this test to help them prep for the ACT. I have to read off all of these instructions for them to fill out the demographic section of the test.

Me: "You need to do A-D, skip E, then do F-L, skip M..."

Kid raises his hand and I call on him.

High school boy: "Can I do U?"

Dancing with who?

My mom likes Dancing with the Stars, so occasionally I try to be nice and watch it with her, but every season I ask the same question EVERY TIME: "Wait- which one is the star again?"

Seriously. Sabrina The Teenage Witch-- I didn't even think you were cool when I was in 7th grade, so now I really think you're annoying. And funny enough, she might be the biggest "star" on the show.

This actually happened.

Weird Awkward Loveable Boy (WALB): Miss Dyer. Could I have a piece of Scotch tape?

Miss Dyer: Sure. Help yourself.

WALB: I guess I should explain.

TIMEOUT FOR ME TO JUST SAY THAT I DID NOT LOOK THE SLIGHT BIT IN NEED OF AN EXPLANATION FOR HIS REQUEST OF SCOTCH TAPE! I don't buy this stuff, thus I am extremely great at sharing it. :) And I continue...

WALB: See, my mom taught me this great trick when I entered puberty. If you take a piece of Scotch tape and stick it on the pimple it helps to absorb some of pus and gunk. Then you just pull it off and it's already getting smaller.

Miss Dyer: (speechless with a look of sheer shock, amazement, and sudden desire to throw up the apple I just ate)

WALB: Works everytime. Not even kidding. You should try it sometime, Miss Dyer. Oh but I don't think you even have pimples, but seriously tell your kids one day.

Miss Dyer: Oh I'll tell people about this, Austin-- don't you worry!

And this is my life. I don't think I've ever once been bored at my job. Slightly disturbed... that's another question.

Great Expectations

A friend of mine was feeling a little disappointed on her birthday. She explained it was due to her high expectations. I was writing her the following email when a guy friend of mine at work said, "You should forward that to all girls everywhere please." So this is where I pretend like this is a real blog that thousands of people are reading and that I have some sort of influence, when in reality, I'm probably the most reads this post will get because I am so particular and have to read everything 13 times before publishing it. But just in case, here you go, world of women reading my Dyer-E...

Hey friend.

Sorry yesterday was not the best. I understand about having high expectations. My hopes are always up. Such as just now I was thinking it would be sweet if on my first day of school, Ryan would hire a plane to fly exactly across the area outside my window and it would hold a banner that read:

HAPPY FIRST DAY, MISS DYER! JUST WANTED YOU TO KNOW I WAS THINKING ABOUT YOU AND I LOVE YOU!!!

Yeah, but see he might not be thinking of this. It is unfortunate that people like you and I are so thoughtful and clever that we dream up cool things to be done for us, because really no boy is probably ever going to be able to live up to these high (literally with my example lol) expectations. And not because they're bad guys, but because they ARE guys.

I have a large 2DO, 2DAY list right now, so I think I'll add "lower expectations" to the list.

:)

Love you!

Hungry? WAIT.

One of my best friends text messaged me this tonight:

"I've been sitting here wanting to snack all night long, and keep telling myself an Erica quote- I've never regretted NOT eating."

I'm so glad I can help hungry people not eat. :)Hahahahaha.

EGR

I was telling my boyfriend a story about a friend of mine who is dealing with what I like to call "Ex-Girlfriend Ridiculousness," which for the remainder of this post I will refer to as EGR. You know the story... Girl and Guy start dating. Girl and Guy are happy and such. Someone posts a picture of Girl and Guy on Facebook with some sort of caption, such as- "Awwww- aren't they cute?" And then it happens. EGR begins. The ex-girlfriend sees her old beau with new Girl and sees every last w in the "awwww" caption. Ex-girlfriend is pissed and begins her trek to ruin Girl and Guy's happy romance.

You know the story, because you've either been the crazy ex-girlfriend or you've been Girl. So as I told this tragic little story that we've all heard, my boyfriend says, "So what did you say to her?"

And I tell him, "Well I just told her that I think things with ex-girlfriends/boyfriends is a weird thing. Three different times in my life, I've been dating a guy and his ex-girlfriend hears/reads via good ol Facebook about me and her old lover boy and she comes storming in to ruin my perfect romance. All three times, the silly boys got confused by EGR and went back to them. But all three times, (and my voice got a bit smug at this point lol) the guy came back to me in the end..."

Ryan interrupted me to say, "What are you doing?!! You're setting her up for failure! Don't you remember your movie-- you can't tell her that-- YOU are the exception!!!"

I reminded Ryan that the movie actually says that I am the rule, NOT the exception. To which, my dear boyfriend said, "No, Erica- you ARE the exception!!"

This conversation made me smile for three reasons.
(1) It reminded me that my boyfriend went to the theatre to see "He's Just Not That Into You" with me after I already saw it with my friends, but because I wanted to be able to talk to him about it.
(2) He not only just saw the movie with me, but he paid attention and used its principles against me kind of lol.
(3) He called ME the exception. Now, I know he is my boyfriend, thus maybe not making him the most unbias opinion... but I don't care. I'm still smiling.

For all those ladies out there dealing with EGR-- whether as the ex or the current girlfriend-- I'm sorry, because EGR is no fun. No fun at all. But you know what is fun? I just realized EGR can be Ex-Girlfriend Ridiculousness... but it also could be Erica Gets Ryan lol. And that my friends, is what makes EGR worth the annoyingness... the excitement when you realize he chose you. Even amidst all of the professing of undying love and other EGR.

Farmers and Hoes

This past Saturday morning, I had the pleasure of attending a t-ball game. As if the crying and crazniess that is 6 years old playing t-ball wasn't entertaining enough, there was a conversation going on behind me between two farmers that literally had me laughing until my sides hurt. Let me take you to the bleachers on this smoldering hot Saturday morning in Smalltown USA...

Farmer #1: "Well, I've got a new hoe that I've been using that's pretty good that you oughta take a look at..."

This is where it all began, and even though I realize they're speaking of a tool, I'm somewhat immature and still can't help but laughing. Ryan sees me laughing, so I encourage him to listen in on the rest of this conversation about hoes...

Farmer #2: "Yeah, I used to have me a mini-hoe but I didn't really get a lot out of it so I sold that hoe."

Farmer #1: "I know what you're saying. For awhile I couldn't afford me one and had to do it by hand. That was no fun."

Farmer #2: "Oh- I hate doing it by hand- even the mini-hoe is better than that."

Farmer #1: "It sure is. I've got a real nice one now though that does it all. This one was pretty pricey though and the wife doesn't know about it yet, but it sure beats the mini-hoe or doing it by hand."

Lo siento.

Sorry, Ronald McDonald. I confused you with the Burger King. And Grumpy Old Lady McDonald's Worker- you can growl at me all you want, because if I want it my way, I will have to head to the BK.

Shout outs to local Odessa folk

Thank you, Nice Old Farmer Man in Dollar General for noticing that you had 42 items in your cart and I just had a box of Tropical Gushers and letting me go ahead of you in line.

I'm sorry, High School Boy That Works at Rue 21 that I just shamelessly flirted with you to convince you to give me money back for the weird shoes I wore but decided I didn't like anymore.

I'm sorry, Grumpy Old Lady McDonald's Worker that when I order 4 Chicken McNuggets that I have to ask for 3 sauces, but if your motto is "Have it your way" you really shouldn't be allowed to growl at me like that.

Thank you, Nice Pharmacy Lady that informed me Wal-Mart has been tricking me into thinking I got a good deal with the $4 prescription when really I can get double the allergy medicine for $2 over the counter. No thank you to you, Greedy Warrensburg Wal-Mart Pharmacy Lady.

If I was a guy...

I think I'd probably pull the fire alarm at a tanning salon.

Small Balls and Large Balls

Dear Inventors of the Spanish Language,

I'd like to personally thank you for creating two separate words for the one word in English that means "ball." Yes, it is so exciting to me that PELOTA means "smaller balls" and BALON and means "larger balls."

Apparently in the creation of your language, you didn't consider the day this 24 year old female teacher would get to attempt to explain this concept to a classroom full of freshman boys. I actually said the sentence, "You have to be careful in deciding if they're smaller or larger balls."

I do not, however, blame you for the very awkward hand gestures that I accidentally made when talking about these small and large balls.

Sincerely,
Miss Dyer

A Day for the Earth

I don't really care about the environment and this generally really surprises people. I guess I look like someone that would hug trees and such, but really I'm just a girl who doesn't mind throwing paper in the trash instead of the recycle bin.

I figured I should get this revelation out before the whole world is reading this blog, and I'd have to deal with tons of hate mail. Actually I look forward to the day of tons of hate mail. I might even print it all out on unrecycled paper and then throw it away.

Ash and Erica's Trip to Sonic

My friend Ashley and I recently visited America's favorite drive-in for a Java Chiller. Keep reading for the great dialogue we had with the Sonic worker that was looking at us through the window:

Me: "We'd like one Java Mocha Chiller, but I was just curious if you could tell me what all is in it. I just can't figure out why there are 1500 calories in this delicious treat."

Sonic worker: "Well, ma'am- we put ice cream and milk in it with lots of chocolate syrup so those probably aren't helping the calorie count."

Me: "Oh- right... we're just trying to watch those calories. Okay, well do you think there is anyway you could make it a little healthier?"

Sonic worker: "(Laughing) Ummm no... but I don't think you need to worry about the calories really."

Me: "Thanks, Mr. Sonic Guy. Sorry for being so annoying. We'll just take one unhealthy Java Mocha Chiller."

Sonic worker: "Just one? You don't both want one?"

Me: "No- this way we're really getting half the calories."

Sonic worker: "Right. Okay and you're going to hate me for this but I have to ask because my boss is standing right here- would you guys like some Cheddar Bites with that?"

The Beginning of Something Brilliant

Once upon a time people locked up diaries and took extreme measures to make sure no one could read their inner most thoughts.

Not me.

Even when I was in middle school, I kept my diary out in visibility almost in hopes someone would read the clever entries I wrote with my cool Lisa Frank pencils. In fact, I've always written in my journals or diary as if someday I'd be the next Anne Frank and people all over would find them and read them.

However, I've finally given up on that disturbing dream and embraced the world that is blogging. Welcome to my inner most thoughts and ideas. I've saved you the trouble of breaking the lock. You're welcome.