Adventures in Vegas

I'm home again. After a whirlwind three-and-a-half days in Vegas, I'm back. I've resumed my position on the couch, laptop on lap, TV on Weeds (but goodness, how I despise Mary Louise Parker), bowl of frozen cherries at my side.  I may look calm on the outside, but inside, my brain is racing. You know how you feel when you have 8,000 things on your to-do list but you don't know what order they go in? That's what's happening here. Why am I so full of  stuff? Four Words: TPT Conference in Vegas.

I. Had. A. Blast. I attended awesome sessions and listened to great TPT and blogging stories that gave me so much to think about, and so now my head is full of list after list of things to consider: ad pages to include in my products, and rewriting my titles and product descriptions. Following up on some of the relationships I started with great people I met, and making myself a schedule and sticking to it. Unfortunately, I already didn't do one of those things today. I woke up late and then I really HAD to finish the book I was reading, The Mountains Echoed by Khaled Hosseini. It only took me about five hours (I wasn't really all that close to the end but it was soooo good), but I've already spoiled one of my resolutions about dedicating specific time to blogging, writing, marketing, blah blah blah. Oops. So I guess I really have to jump on it now. Like, for reals. So I'm going to give you a little debrief (Like an episode of Entertainment Weekly, you won't get the whole deal, but you'll get the gist) of my trip!  Before I left, I had plans to room with four other ladies I'd never met. I mean, we'd "met", you know, by sending irreverent facebook messages to each other, but that was about the extent of our relationship. Oh, and once Natalie sent me wine, forever leaving an indelible mark on my lush's heart.   But basically, I had no idea what to expect from these (mostly Texan) girls. It's a little nerve-wracking, spending three nights in potentially close quarters with virtual strangers (haha get my pun? Because we only communicated virtually? heehee) But when one of them arrived a double-sized bottle of wine, happily proclaiming that it was only eight dollars, I knew we were going to be A-OK. These are the ladies:

Cheryl from Crayons and Curls, Farrah from Mrs. Shipley's Whole Brain Teaching, Katie from Keep Teaching & Planning (KTP on TPT), and Natalie from Teachery Tidbits. Oh, and me :)

And they are lovely, indeed. One of the best things about the conference was that they know what lies deep in the hearts of teachers. This included free drink coupons LOTS of time to talk. Oh, and free stuff. Lots of free stuff. 

These are our swag bags full o'teacher stuff. By the end of the conference, I had collected this variety of freebies:

The happy hours and meet-ups were some of my favorite things. In the midst of this talking- picture 600 teachers smushed into one space and EVERYone uses their teacher voice - the noise was deafening - I managed to squeeze through and around and meet some bloggers and sellers who I really admire. 

Amy, who is an absolutely adorable individual. If I used the word "adorbs", I would use it to describe Amy. But I don't use the word "adorbs" because it's pretty ridiculous.

I met these charming ladies, too, and so many others. 

Confession: when I met Jennifer Runde of Runde's Room, I'd already downed both the free drink coupons TPT had given me. Kind of fast, actually, because big groups aren't exactly my favorite. (I'm not the go-up-and-talk-to-you type.) So when I walked up to Jennifer, full of liquid courage, I said, "Hi Jennifer! I'm Chrissy from Buzzing with Ms. B, and I love your blog. It's so specific and full of thorough teaching practices!" 

I was doing well so far. 

"Thank you!" she said sweetly, gesturing with the international sign for thank you. 

"I'm so impressed with your consistency in posting, too."

"That really makes my day," or something kind along those lines. "I'm blushing!" she said.

To this point, I appeared to be a normal individual. I should've stopped while I was ahead.

It was at now that the wheels came off the cart.

"Well," I stumbled here, not sure what was to come after that grand opening. "You should constantly....be....flattered.... of yourself?" What? What does that mean? Is that English?

"Thank you," she said, as I silently prayed that the teacher talk in the room was so loud it drowned out my ridiculous words. "I appreciate that!"

Lovely woman. Thanks for not calling me out on my absurdity.

See the glass? My downfall.

At one point in the weekend, some of my roomies and I decided that we wanted to take advantage of the fun photo booth in the corner of the meet-up room. We made our way over to stand in the line and giggle. While I was there, I met Ari, the Science Penguin. Anyway, all of a sudden, Paul (yes, that Paul), Deanna (yes, that Deanna), and John Yoo (yes, that John Yoo. I know, I didn't know who he was either, but he's a muy importante individual.) headed over to the booth where we were standing. They nicely asked (I guess they didn't actually HAVE to ask, because they were the ones paying for the photo booth in the first place) if they could cut. John graciously announced he would trade selfies for a cut in the line. So I did! I snapped a picture of Deanna and Paul, 

and then John snapped a picture with me! 

Considering I was about four drinks deep in my five-free-drinks evening (we met up with some preggos and they gave us their tickets :) I think I'm maintaining pretty well!

Later that night, we hit Fremont street and had some fun adventures there. I'll spare you the details, but our first picture pretty much sums it up. See the photobomber? Yeah? We didn't. 

Natalie, Haley from My Silly Firsties, me, and Cheryl

I close this account with the crowning moment of my trip. I, probably as many of you are, am a big fan of Kristen from a Teeny Tiny Teacher. Her writing style is inspired and I love it. So when someone whispered to me in the midst of a crowded room, "There's Kristen! Like, A Teeny Tiny Teacher Kristen!" I was like, "I must go bother her." So we headed over. Sure enough, there she was in her teeny tiny glory. "Hi, Chrissy!" she said brightly. "What's your blog?" "I'm Buzzing with Ms. B," I said. "Oh, I know your blog! You're hilarious!" Kristen said. "AAAAA! You know who I am!" I squealed, trying not to wet myself. I couldn't believe I was on the teeny tiny radar! She agreed to pose for a picture with us and so my evidence is below:

So there was all the fun stuff from Vegas. I intend (I really do) to share some of the bullet points of my learning from the trip too, as soon as I can muster the energy. Vegas kind of wore me out.

I linked up this post with A Burst in First! Click over to read all of the other fun Vegas posts!

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Stealin' Paint Chips from Wal-Mart - Writing Freebie!

About a month ago, my fourth grade teachers and I went to an Empowering Writers training at our local service center. It was a great training for expository writing, and my teachers walked away with a lot of strategies and tools. One specific tool the trainer shared, which I've seen before on pinterest in various forms, is using paint sample cards to help students expand their color descriptions. Our trainer said we should go to the store, steal a bunch of paint chips, and put them on a ring so students can use them to find specific color words. Rather than saying "red" or "blue," they can say, "pomegranate red," or "cold cobalt". 

So today, after I got out of school, I was feeling charitable. I left early and ran by local Wally World, thinking, "I'm going to take a bunch of paint chips and make the rings for my teachers during my week off!" This was easier said than done. Mostly because I am afraid of getting in trouble  know it's wrong to steal.   Feeling guilty already about my plan to steal samples with no intention to purchase paint, I went to the hardware section and was pleased to see that it was empty. Just like when I need help with something, no associate with an "Ask me, I can help" vest was to be found. I started out with the shades of blue and purple. I grabbed "royal amethyst" and "true turquoise" paint samples in bundles of seven (one for each teacher). My stack began to grow as I added in "pale hyacinth" and "feather teal".  At this point, I realized I had quite a stack, so I stuffed it into my purse. I gazed around nonchalantly, trying to channel "I'm just browsing for the perfect bedroom color," I looked left and right. There was no associate in the vicinity. I did see several shoppers, though, and their classiness (this store is known for its classy clientele) deterred me from theft for a second. By which I mean I knew they knew exactly what I was doing: stealing.

Oh, well. They knew. I knew. We all know.  Grabbing large chunks of yellows: canary cream, dusty daffodil, and honeyed honeysuckle joined the bundle of contraband in my purse.  I began to really feel guilty. I looked around and saw a blue vest in the distance and decided to take a walk around the aisle. Pushing my cart and my purse full of thievery, I took a few steps down the aisle and pretended to think about surge protectors and extension cords. After I made a full circle around the aisle, I again stopped in front of the paint samples and proceeded to gather browns, beiges, and greens. Sea foam and fresh-cut grass were added to my stack, along with bubblegum pink and shades of rose.

And then the phone rang.  It was a sudden ring, from right behind me. The empty booth, designed for an associate who should be giving me the evil eye right now, was still vacant, but the phone was ringing.  It was ringing for me. It was ringing because I was a thief. I shoved all the paint samples in my purse - the stack was about five inches tall by now - and started to turn my cart to leave the section. And then a voice came over the public address system.  "Someone in hardware, please pick up line 2." AAAAAAA! I thought. They're calling someone to the hardware department to tell me to stop stealing their stuff!  I walked quickly, clutching my guilty purse, darting across the store.  "If I can only make it through the checkout before someone tells them I'm coming!" I thought irrationally. I stuffed my scarf into my purse to make sure no paint chips crawled out to declare my guilt.

I found a magical empty checkout lane (I know - an empty lane in Wally World? It had to be a trap) and raced to the counter. I couldn't make eye contact with the cashier, becuase my tell-tale heart was beating from inside my bag.  "Did you find everything you were looking for today?" the cashier asked me. "Yes," I squeaked, barely able to keep myself from blurting out, "I'm sorry! I'll never do it again!"  "Have a good night," she said. I didn't deserve her graciousness. "Thank you," I said, as I dragged my bag o'lies out of the store. I didn't feel completely comfortable until I was sitting in my car with the door closed. I opened up my sack and shuffled through my purloined paint colors. 

The kids will never know what we do for them. I risked my freedom for a stack of colorful cards in colors I will never really use. All of this being said, if you are brave and would like to go steal paint chips from your local one stop money trap, here's a handy dandy printable you can use to make your own Ring O' Color Words!     

Grab your freebie at TPT!

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Indecision: our sofa adventures

So my hunny and I have recently taken to inhabiting the same domicile. That is, he moved in. And we're very very happy. 
One of the reasons we're very very happy is cleaning. For me, cleaning = something I do when I have nothing else to do or something I do when it's absolutely necessary = rarely.
For him, cleaning = something to do when it needs to be done = frequently.
So I'm cleaner now.
Laundry is another bonus. (Except for the socks I keep finding on the den floor.) And his technology skills are handy to have around.

Oh, yeah. And since I love him, I do like to be with him a lot. 

Those are the things we're happy about. There are other things, though. Things we're 'happy' about.

*We're 'happy' that we rearranged my furniture and found places for his stuff. 
*We're 'happy' that now, instead of my pretty cream comforter with off-white pinstripes, we have a poop-brown comforter on my bed. (For the cat, hunny, he said. To make her comfortable.) 
*We're 'happy' that he spent the afternoon stapling cables up around my our den ceiling so we can have surround sound which I don't care about. Which means we're also 'happy' that he put up five speakers in a small room to explode my brain.
We're incredibly 'happy' about all of those things.
I know that sounds like I'm not really happy, but we are actually very happy. And those things that aren't my favorite, but are his favorite, are just part of the territory of loving someone who isn't your clone. 
Having a non-clone hunny requires you to be an adult instead of a child. Specifically, it requires you to C.O.M.P.R.O.M.I.S.E. 
Yes, compromise. Such as you give a little and I give a little, and before we know it, we've reached a beautiful compromise that we both hate equally. This is happening right now with our own personal Indecision 2012: The Great Sofa Search.
My hunny is a picky pants. By this, I mean he has a perfectly good sofa and loveseat, which my bottom enjoy very much. However, he doesn't enjoy them for the following reason: "I don't fit." 
"What do you mean, you don't fit? I can see you fitting right now."
"Yes, but I don't fit right. Cause the armrests aren't smushy enough so I have to use a pillow and now I don't fit anymore."
I looked at him on the couch. He fit. He was using up the space between the armrests and didn't seem to require additional space. To me, that means he fit. That's what fit means. Look it up.
"You fit. You're fitting. You've fitted."
"No. I don't fit. Can we get new couches?"
Oh Lord. Decision time. Now we have to compromise.
I prayed we'd get lucky. I prayed we'd magically happen on a perfect couch that would match beautifully with the style of the house and provide the 'fit' he was looking for. We set off to our first furniture store optimistically, expecting to be pleasantly surprised.
We have since visited five different stores. We walked through New Deal, Furniture Row, Ashley, National Furniture Liquidators, and another store that neither of us can remember. (We must've blocked it out.) I can summarize this lame adventure with a few phrases.
- Nope. Poop brown. - Nope. Arm rests aren't squishy. - Nope. Looks like the eighties. - Nope. Too narrow. - Nope. Sticky fabric. - Nope. Hate it.
My hunny's problems are due to comfort. For him, it's Comfort, with a capital C. He doesn't look at a sofa; he feels it. He pokes all the armrests before he sits down to make sure that they will be squishy enough for his dainty head. He smooshes down into the cushion to tell if frame is going to be hard. He lays down in the store to make sure he 'fits'. 
My problems are far more logical, I'm sure you'll agree. 
I like pretty things. 
I don't like ugly things. 
Most comfy sofas are ugly. Poop brown, eighties style, and another indescribable quality I refer to as "Ew." 
So we're at a bit of an impasse. I'm not really sure what should happen here. I think I should win. But I'm an adult now, so.... I may have to let him think he won before I actually win. You know, compromise. Pin It