In which I travel

Because it entertains me to do so, and because I just got home from the parent meeting and am too tired to blog, here is the full text (well, almost, and some names altered to protect the innocent) of the notes I just sent home with my parents for the kids going with me to Washington DC next week.  Yes, this really is what I’m like.

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DO NOT BRING:

  • Any electronics that have to be plugged into a TV to be used.
  • Laptops
  • Flip flops (see below)

These items will be handed back to your parents when your bags are checked, and you will probably be scowled at, but you will still be allowed to go.  Do not argue with me about whether your fancy-schmancy laptop-tablet hybrid is a tablet or a laptop.  Tablets are allowed but are NOT recommended, and I don’t want to hear it if yours is broken or lost.

ABSOLUTELY DO NOT BRING:

  • Cigarettes
  • Drugs, other than prescription—and those should be given to Mr. Siler
  • Alcohol
  • Weapons of any kind (I carry a three inch pocket knife.  I’m leaving it at home. Do NOT mess with DC security.)
  • Anything connected to sex in ANY WAY.

If you have any of these items with you, or anything else not on that list that may cause me to believe that you are planning on making stupid decisions on my trip, you will be SENT HOME.  No bus. No trip.  No refunds.  Period. There is no appeal process and I am not kidding.  PLEASE DO NOT TEST ME ON THIS.

Stuff to bring:

  • Clothes.  This includes pants, shirts, socks, AND underwear. Yes, one pair for each day. We will be on a bus together for four days and you are not allowed to smell bad.  Be prepared for a wide variety of different kinds of weather; the East Coast has been just as weird as we have this winter.   Pay attention to the weather forecast.
  • Bathroom stuff (toothbrush/toothpaste, DEODORANT, shampoo if you’re picky)
  • A collapsible (very small) umbrella
  • At least one decent outfit (shirt with a collar) for Monday.
  • COMFORTABLE WALKING SHOES. This may be the most important thing on the list.  DO NOT BRING FLIP FLOPS.  ACTUAL SHOES WITH TOES AND LACES AND EVERYTHING. YOU DO NOT WANT TO SEE WHAT WILL HAPPEN TO YOUR FEET AFTER TRYING TO WALK TWENTY MILES IN FLIP FLOPS. 
  • A bathing suit (optional, possibly unnecessary)
  • A hat (plenty of places to buy these, but a good idea anyway)
  • Sunglasses
  • Sunscreen
  • Allergy meds, if you have problems—the cherry blossoms can be an issue at this time of year (give these to Mr. Siler)
  • Any other medications you need, especially if you are on any kind of ADHD medication.
  • A cell phone (essential)
  • Chargers for any of your electronics (there should be outlets on the bus)
  • A camera, if you are secretly from 1983 and your phone doesn’t have one.
  • Money for souvenirs (you probably don’t need much more than $50 or so, but I won’t be checking your wallets)
  • Feminine supplies, if feminine (someone will be caught by surprise.  I will have extra; you just have to be brave enough to ask.)
  • Exactly $3 as a tip for the tour guide. More is OK.
  • A healthy amount of patience.

THINGS I WILL HAVE WITH ME:

  • Basic medicine (some sort of pain meds, probably ibuprofen; a basic antihistamine, Pepto-Bismol or Imodium)
  • Basic first aid supplies
  • Sunscreen
  • Extra girl stuff

YOU WILL BE GIVEN:

A WorldStrides ID card on a lanyard that has emergency numbers on it and you are to wear around your neck for EVERY SINGLE SECOND OF THE TRIP WHEN WE ARE NOT IN THE HOTEL.  You are not allowed to trade this for Jolly Ranchers or let your girlfriend wear yours so that everyone can see how much you love her. In fact, for the four days on the trip you are not allowed to have a girlfriend either.

IS THERE A DRESS CODE?
You are not required to wear your school uniform. You are required to not look like a slob, other than on the ride to and from DC, and I want everyone looking classy on the last day of the trip because we will be touring a graveyard and the national Holocaust museum.  Dress respectfully for the final day.  Saturday and Sunday I’m not as concerned about other than the “not a slob” rule.

THE DAY OF THE TRIP:

Be at school by 6:00 PM on Friday. The bus leaves at 7:00 and we need time to check bags.  Mr. Smith and Mr. Jones will be checking bags for the boys; Mrs. Brown and Mrs. Anderson will be checking bags for the girls.

Bring ANY MEDICATIONS YOU NEED along with clear dosage instructions for Mr. Siler.  We will decide on a case by case basis who I am holding meds for and who will be trusted to take them on their own.

Dress comfortably for the long bus ride. The “don’t be a slob” rule is suspended for the ride to DC and the ride home from DC.  I will be wearing jeans and a hoodie.  Sweats/pajama pants are fine for the rides to and from DC only. They fall under the “slob” rule for the rest of the trip.  A blanket and a pillow are also a good idea.  Note that on the bus boys are sitting with boys and girls are sitting with girls.

FOR THE BUS:
Pack an overnight bag (a backpack) with a change of clothes, your toothbrush/toothpaste, a hairbrush or comb, and your deodorant, along with anything you think you might need specifically on the bus. Some snacks are fine too, although we’ll be stopping a couple of times on the way.  Everything else should go in a suitcase.  There are fairly spacious bathrooms at the Hard Rock Café where we have breakfast on the first day and we will be changing clothes and freshening up there.

WHAT ABOUT THE POOL?  IS THERE A POOL?  TELL ME ABOUT THE POOOOOOLLLLLLLLL!!!!!

Don’t count on it, but feel free to be optimistic. We’ll discuss it when we get there.

HOW TO CONTACT ME:

  • My phone number is (HAHA ARE YOU NUTS INTERNET NO YOU DON’T GET THIS).  Send me a text with your name RIGHT NOW (and whose parent you are, if your last name is different) so that I know who you are if you call.
  • You can follow us on Twitter @(address); if you don’t use Twitter you can still see the feed at https://twitter.com/(address).

 

 

 

On venturing into public

My belly is full of pizza and my brain is full of nonsense. At the moment I prefer the contents of my belly; ultimately the pizza will cost me less. That said, it’s been a very long time since I was getting any kind of exercise regularly– and, despite my near-permanent status as a professional fat dude, I actually enjoy exercise. I got a weird little thrill when my wife pointed out that the current bathroom mirror (which is six feet wide and about four high, with no borders– just a big piece of mirrored glass) ought to go down into the basement as part of our as-yet nonexistent home gym. I was actually angry with myself that I hadn’t thought of it on my own.

I ran into three different families’ worth of students during the ten minutes that I was buying pizza, by the way, which makes me think maybe living in more or less the same neighborhood as my school isn’t that much of an advantage.

One of them asked me what I was doing there, which tells you the caliber of kids I’m dealing with. (Yes, this is an unfair thing to say. No student anywhere thinks his teachers are real people, and running into us in public, thus confirming the unwelcome truth that we exist outside of our classrooms, is always an occasion for wonder and mystery. But it’s still funny.)

“I’m here for pizza,” I told her.

“Really?” she asked.

I leaned forward.

“I actually live here,” I whispered, and pointed under one of the chairs by the door. “I slept there last night. Don’t tell anybody.”

Her eyes tripled in size. Her mother got their pizza (I was waiting for a Deep Dish pizza, which takes longer even though it’s more of a Deep Ish pizza) and shot me a weird look as they left.

By the time the third family said hello and left, I think the employees thought I was some sort of rock star.

The pudgy, bald, talentless kind, of course.

I tried to spend part of last night applying for a field trip grant through Target. Have I mentioned the DC trip yet? I take a group of seventh and eighth graders to Washington, D.C. every two years, and this year is a travel year. The trip is hella expensive so we’re trying to find a good way to pay for it that doesn’t involve me having to run a fundraiser. First it took twenty minutes and two changes of my password to log into the site, which is justweird, and then after taking three thousand or so characters to say I want to take my kids to DC so they can lern history gud, it lost my entire application except for the biographical part at the beginning. Frustrated, I tried to flip to the last section of the application, which asks me to break the trip cost down in ways that are frankly impossible (it costs, roughly, $800 per kid, but that’s a flat fee– they don’t break it down by transportation or food or lodging or whatever. It’s just $800. Target wants everything broken down specifically– I can’t even realistically estimate those numbers– and I doubt they’ll like it very much if I just put $32,000 HOLY FUCKING HELL ARE WE SERIOUSLY PAYING THEM THIRTY-TWO GRAND into one of the boxes.

Holy shit. How the hell are they making thirty-two thousand dollars off of us? That’s fucking insane. Mental note: redouble plans to become a DC tour guide once I decide I can’t teach any longer.

Jesus.