A couple days ago, the maintenance light lit up and it was time for an oil change.  Being fed up with Jiffy Lube, especially since they are known for scamming customers by giving cheap motor oil when customers paid for synthetic, I decided to change my own oil.  After all, I changed the oil for my previous cars.  Today, I got up early in the morning trying to look for the jack.  I happened to stumble across a photo of my dad graduating from college. Having a keepsake of my dad means a lot. When he was alive, he gave me all his basketball trophies.  Back then, I was an unappreciative brat, I probably threw out his trophies because I didn't care for it.  Once he passed, I wished I could go back in time to keep his trophies.

After realizing my jack could not lift the CRV, I decided to go take the oil, oil/air filters to Mission Lube Express.  I showed up an hour before the shop opens, the owner suggested that I should get breakfast to kill time.  Since I have an hour to kill, I decided to drive down Valley Blvd to Tasty Garden.  The waiter gave me a menu and I was shocked that under chef's special, the restaurant has a item with iced tea in a bucket of ice for $3.50.  In the back of my mind, I was thinking how the restaurant used cheap gimmicks to make money.

During breakfasts at Chinese cafes, I typically order steak and sunny side up eggs.  Growing up, having steaks was a treat.  At Chinese cafes, iced teas are complimentary.  When having a sip of the iced tea, I began thinking how the iced tea was a treat from heaven.  Strangely enough, every time I take a sip from the iced tea, I picture myself in a tropical island relaxing in a hammock.


 

Talking to Terry, he noted a couple of things:

• Writing helps.
• Being you, don't try to be anyone else.
• Things happen for a reason.

Two days of not living with mother was a great feeling.  Having freedom is such a great feeling.  I can not stand living with a person who controls my life, a person who constantly belittles and constantly nags.  I can feel my body tensing up every time she has something negative to say.  Today, she complained how it was not her fault for gnats in the kitchen especially since she was not home for two days.  Granted that may be true but the kitchen has a lot of moldy, rotten foods in the refrigerator, table, counter, floor.  Living with her is a toxic environment.  I hate how she constantly badgers, nags, and belittles.

While looking for some writing topics to assess one of my students, I came across this website:

http://www.ereadingworksheets.com/writing/narrative-essay-topics-and-story-ideas/

One of the topics I plan on giving to my students is how some people avoid challenges while others see them as opportunities to grow.  

I have a soft spot for Italian cuisine, the bits of meat swimming in the sweet tomato sauce and of course the oozing, cheesy goodness. When Chef had an Italian cooking class available, I took the bull by its horns and signed up.  At cooking class, everyone was given the opportunity to make fresh pasta from scratch.  As chef was demonstrating how to knead the pasta, I thought to myself that making pasta was a piece of cake.  I followed Chef's steps of making a flour well and incorporating the egg into the well.  When it was time to add the water, I added a lot of water til the point where the mixed ingredient was gooey and watery.  Unsure with myself, I showed Chef my ball of dough and was instructed to make another batch but with not as much water.  Rather than giving up, I decided to give a crack with a second attempt, I repeated the same procedure in making a flour well and placing the egg in the middle.  This time, I added not enough water.  I was intent on making the perfect pasta.  My third attempt had the right amount of water but I over-kneaded the dough.  The dough became dry. My fourth attempt in making the dough ball had the right elasticity, its what the Chef said the dough bouncing back when you poke at  it.  At that moment in time, I was on top of the world.

I wonder if there is a way to check the amount of pesticides in vegetables that is accessible for the general public.  I was reading Men's Health and there is an article that discussed organic and non-organic vegetables.  Apparently, strawberries, apples, celery, spinach, tomatoes, bell peppers, and cucumbers are on the dirty list.   When some of my favorite fruits and vegetables listed on the Environmental Working Grouping's Dirty Dozen list, I have two options: consume less or disregard the article. Even though, I am even contemplating about this. Maybe, I should just be grateful that I have access to food.

Everyday in the classroom, I feel like there is so many things to do and very little time.  The pressure cooker in my body is boiling. In the back of my mind, I always feel I am not a good teacher. Providing an explicit lesson that captures students' engagement lingers in my mind.  The feeling of failure is not just in the classroom, its in my everyday life how I'm 35 still living at home. Living in a prison called home, I do not have a voice to address any concerns like discarding dated newspapers or expired meat with fungus.  The simple solution is to throw away the pieces of crap but when the warden yells, belittles you for throwing away these items, or throws a tantrum, I get the feeling of helplessness.