One income...

No wonder one-income families are so rare these days. We thought we could move into the district where I teach. But we can't afford it.

If you're supposed to spend less than 30% of your monthly pay on your mortgage, how do people buy houses in the first place? A $160k home with a 30-year mortgage and 6% interest is about $1150 a month. That means you've got to be bringing home at least $3800 a month!

I've got a master's degree, and 8 years on the job, and I won't be there for a while.

This sucks...now I've got to tell my realtor that, well, after all, we won't be needing your help because we can't afford it. I should have been a realtor. 3% commission on each house you help someone buy or sell could add up pretty quickly.

Best birthday cake in the Galaxy.

Wednesday was my birthday, and a student made me a cake (maybe out of guilt, maybe to get a higher grade. It is easily the coolest birthday cake I've had since the R2D2 cake I had for my 9th or 10th birthday party at Burger King.

Check out the video:




This kid recreated the battle scene from the forest moon, Endor, from Return of the Jedi. He used Star Wars Legos and he used cinnamon sticks for the trees, it's got a river with swedish fish in it, the ewoks are gummi bears, and there are chocolate "rocks" all over the place. One of the stormtroopers is getting hit in the head with a rock. It's awesome.

Plus, the cake was big enough to cut 54 pieces from it, and had a huge crowd in my classroom at lunch.

Funniest Blog Post I've Read Recently

This is post one (1) of two (2) for me today. It's just a link to a hilarious post on the blog "Stuff Christians Like." Absolutely worth your time. Just don't pee your pants laughing.

Christian Romantic Fiction: Porn's Eviler Cousin

That'll do it. Now people will read this blog, and then stop reading forever.

I was just reading Prodigal John's recent post on Christian Romantic Fiction and I remembered I wanted to do a post on this.

I seriously do think that Christian Romantic Fiction is more insidious for Christian women than pornography is for men. Considering my considerable experience with pornography (see my post on 3 years of Freedom - soon to be 4), I consider myself a sort of lay-expert (pun not originally intended but now left in on purpose).

Since porn is a false god set in place of an appropriate view of God's intention for sexuality, and since it is addictive, and since it is so destructive, it is obviously bad. But because it is so obviously dangerous, huge battles are fought over it. Your local Family Christian Store retail outlet isn't going to carry it.

However, since Christian Romantic Fiction is written by Christians and is about Christians in ministry situations (why, if the Prairie-Living schoolmarm, Marie, isn't able to tame the wildness of David Gideon's rebellious but lonely heart by the end of the 28th Chapter, I don't know if I'll be able to live with this world), it clearly belongs in our Christian stores.

My mom's not reading this, and she's not going to, and neither will my dad, so I'm pretty safe here I think, but if not, I guess this is no surprise to either of them: My mom probably read every book by Brock and Bodie Thoene, and she did so (and does so) because she had and has a desire for genuine affection. When my dad didn't give it, she found it in these formulaic, sanctified romance novels.

It's Danielle Steele meets Jesus and Zondervan publishing house on the same day.

So why is it eviler? It's been baptized and cleansed by its presence in the bookstore alongside legitimate Christian writings. At least we recognize that porn is dark and we don't let it in the front door. This stuff arrives in broad daylight, ready to seduce hearts with saccharine-sweet "goodness."

Just one more example of being "Of the world but not in it."

You saw it here first

I was just goofing around with the "Live Trace" feature of my Adobe Illustrator CS3 program, trying to figure out some silk-screening stuff, and here we have it: Mr. Cool smiling!

I don't believe it had ever been photographed before, and I'm fairly certain it hasn't been photographed since.

You're welcome, world.

Soon, spray-painted Che Guevara faces on utility boxes and stop signs will be replaced with this revolutionary mug right here.

By the way, it's 2:59 a.m.

"Hate Free Zone"

I work at a public high school, and as we all know, public education is run by well-meaning but absolutely deceived people who are bound and determined to improve the self-esteem and self-worth of kids. My school has a diversity club whose acronymic title boasts that the purpose of the club is that students will Learning "Acceptance" through "Education." I hesitate to name the club's real title lest some kid google it, find this here blog, and get me railroaded out of town for the upcoming tirade.

The club is officially not about sexual orientation decision issues; it is ostensibly about race relations - which in my school actually are a big deal. But the sponsors of the club and others around the school have "Hate Free Zone" signs hanging in their classrooms and office spaces. The original "Hate Free Zone" poster was created, printed, and distributed by the local Gay/Bisexual/Transgender alliance. The "Hate Free Zone" poster makes me incredibly cranky, and the picture at left is my response to such idiocy. If you click on the picture, it'll bring up a big version, and you are welcome to print it and hang it in your office or classroom.

I've got one hanging by my door. For now, at least, I still have my right to free speech.

Guess how old this boy is

That's right.

Old enough to spell his name.

Old enough to "take care of" his "baby" (the penguin at the bottom left of the picture).

Old enough take trips to the moon, to Chicago, to a lake, to track meets, to the country of "spee-chu-spahn," etc. all from the rocket/airplace/boat/van/catamaran that is our living room couch.

Old enough to use the potty "all by myself."

Old enough to say "No, I amn't."

Old enough to recognize the haircut place every time we drive by it at 45mph.

Old enough to be influenced by brands and logos: "Daddy, there's Target. There's Home Depot. Let's go to Sam's Club. Is that Wal-Mart?"

Old enough to not need a bib because he will eat his yogurt carefully.

Old enough to enjoy a banana split and choose his own toppings for it.

Old enough to repeat phrases daddy shouldn't say in front of him (and probably shouldn't say at all).

Old enough to recognize the flag of the United States.

Old enough to recognize (in traffic) a bumper sticker with an outline of Texas with red, white, and blue and the lone star on it as "part of a United States flag."

Old enough to say (as only a child could say) that Texas has lots of guns in it. How he knows this I have no idea.

Old enough that I must be older than the 22 years that I wrote down on some form the other day.