a few of the things we want

Last week my friend Alanna and I went to see a singer-who-will-not-be-named. I was feeling like doing laundry and going to bed early, but we are party animals so we went. I brought an apple to eat while we waited for the concert to start. That sentence is both a fact AND a hint at who the concert was. I'm trying to eat five fruits and vegetables a day lately.

Fast-forward through the normal parts of a concert that involve singing and clapping to the part where someone in the audience yelled something not very nice, and everything immediately went off the rails. The guy doing lighting saw an opportunity and started shining spotlights on people yelling in the audience, and on the singer, who was yelling back. Pretty soon the only people who weren't yelling were me, Alanna, and the sweet older couple sitting next to us.

It was definitely the most uncomfortable I've been at a concert, and once at a concert in college the man next to me kept grabbing my butt because he thought it was his girlfriend's.

I wanted to leave and get started on my laundry and not have to deal with the spotlights and the fighting but we were worried someone would see us leaving and scream at us.

Finally the singer announced that she was too upset to sing anymore. It seemed like a weak excuse, the other day I did a conference call for two hours even though I had to go to the bathroom the entire time, which seems like a bigger deal than being upset. I guess that is one way I know I am not famous. That and the only people who recognize me consistently are a cashier at Whole Foods and the bus driver who saw me jaywalk once.

"So ___ all of you, this show is ___ing over I never wanted to do it anyway!" said the singer.

"Oh dear, now that's really a shame." said the sweet older lady next to me.

"You again." said the bus driver who saw me jaywalk once. I really need to start taking a different bus.

What can make me feel this way

The song my coworkers and friends and coworker friends have to hear me sing endlessly and loudly eyes closed tapping on other people's desks all week usually depends on what the grocery store plays on Monday. The grocery store was good to us this week.

Thirteen dealbreakers for my younger sisters

This is a combination of 3 lists but is still short enough you can keep it in your wallet.


Long hair
Over 5’10
Shorter than me
Bodybuilder
Wears cowboy boots
Wears Hawaiian shirts
Weird laugh
Wants to live outside Minnesota
Wants to live in the middle of nowhere
Hunter
Gamer
Doesn’t like Taylor Swift
Creeps me out

I'm leaving LA without ever seeing a celebrity

No, that guy with the crazy hair that I always talk about seeing doesn't count. To be honest, I don't think he was famous. I think he just had crazy hair.

Starting next week I'm going to be jaywalking, eating french fries, and making too much eye contact with homeless people in a brand-new city. Which one? Read on to the next sentence to find out!

Oh man, what if I did one of those scrolling things from chain emails where you scroll down for days?

   __       __   ____       ____
   ) \     / (   )   \     /   (
  )_  \_V_/  _(   )_  \_V_/  _(
    )__   __(       )__   __(           
       `-'             `-'

Remember those?

                     /\/\
        ___--~^~~--_(-  -)_--~~^~--___
       ^\      HOORAY 4 TENNIS       /^
          \   /\   /\    /\   /\   /
            \/   \/  \  /   \/  \/
                     ^\/^

Didn't you love those?

                 _..-'(                       )`-.._
              ./'. '||\\.       (\_/)       .//||` .`\.
           ./'.|'.'||||\\|..    )*.*(    ..|//||||`.`|.`\.
        ./'..|'.|| |||||\```````  "  '''''''/||||| ||.`|..`\.
      ./'.||'.|||| ||||||||||||.     .|||||||||||| ||||.`||.`\.
     /'|||'.|||||| ||||||||||||{     }|||||||||||| ||||||.`|||`\
    '.|||'.||||||| ||||||||||||{     }|||||||||||| |||||||.`|||.`
   '.||| ||||||||| |/'   ``\||/`     '\||/''   `\| ||||||||| |||.`
   |/' \./'     `\./          |/\   /\|          \./'     `\./ `\|
   V    V         V          }' `\ /' `{          V         V    V

No, guess not. Portland! I'm moving to Portland.

I don't know a lot about Portland yet except that it will be awesome and that people bike a lot there. Apparently there's even a restaurant where the electricity is powered by stationary bikes at all the tables. I have wanted to do that for years but in a GYM because think of all the people moving in a gym, you could power a city. Feel free to use that idea. And stay tuned for more great ideas, sent to you via the internet, from Portland.

How many times do you think I said "Portland" in this post?



football plays football plays football plays football plays

I miss you already LA.

live-blogging from an army surplus store in Atlanta

Did you want to know what search words people have used to find my blog lately?



Best of luck to desperate people here looking for information on football plays. Especially because my blog doesn't show up until well after tons of actual websites about football plays.

But anyone who wants the definition of laundry has come to the right place.

Football plays football football plays.

good news: I don't have your email address

In my opinion, the only thing worth emailing is this video.



With no subject line and often.

you'd better go in disguise

The best party I ever threw was "teddy bear picnic" themed, the year I turned five. The whole idea was a combination of bears, the woods, and food, which I guess were all things I liked.



This only scratches the surface of the weird things I liked as a child.

The year I turned five I celebrated my birthday a month early because my family was moving to Australia, a place where, my mom informed me, I would have no friends. I knew nothing about Australia besides the fact that no one there was going to want to come to my birthday party and that it was in books. Also in books: bears eating toast and jam in the forest.

After the party when most of my friends had gone, my friend Jonathan and I stood on my porch waiting for his mom to come pick him up. It was quiet, and we were solemnly watching children playing on the swingset across the street, remembering when we were four and enjoyed activities like that.

I remember Jonathan said "Well, another year, huh?" and I said "Another year." And I felt so very, very old.

Do you feel wise beyond your years? Have you ever been to a teddy bear picnic? Or any sort of casual meal with wild animals?

not all girls can cook

You know you've lived in Southern California long enough when you start drinking soymilk instead of regular milk for absolutely no reason. And I do. I'm not ashamed of it and at the same time I am very ashamed.

My diet consists mostly of soymilk, edamame, coconut water, Greek yogurt, organic dried mangoes, homemade gluten-free granola, and spinach leaves. Eighteen-year old Brooke hates me. Actually every age of Brooke except twenty-four hates me.

Actually twenty-four-year-old Brooke hates me as well. But it's the purest, most organic soy-hate. It costs three times as much and only stays fresh for two days. Every time I shake my fist with hatred, proceeds go to an attractive turtle in the Galapagos Islands.

The next two pictures were taken while listening to this so they'll probably look best if looked at while listening to it as well.





Macaroni and cheese with chocolate milk instead of regular: good idea or bad?

 
At least I still eat Kraft macaroni and cheese? Sorry attractive turtles. But I just buy it so I can mix that orange "cheese" sauce with chocolate soymilk and gluten-free brown rice pasta. Sorry people trying to respect me.

add this to the list

While I was waiting in line for the bathroom at a Kanye concert the other night, a woman wearing bright green eye makeup started chatting with me. "Who knew there would be so much sun today!" she chirped. "I'm like totally red!"

"Yeah," I answered. Cautiously. Because I have a bad reputation of saying awkward things around strangers. "You DO have a lot of color on your face... and I'm not just talking about your bright green eye makeup."

Then I weighed my post-gaffe options: high pitched fake laugher or staring intently at the paper towel dispenser. Staring won. 

If I ever make any friends it will be a miracle. Having this outfit wouldn't hurt my chances.

estimated number of people in the audience: three

Eighteen years from now, my former french kids are going to sound as crazy singing "Five Little Monkeys" as I sound singing this:



Thank you kindy. And you're welcome, France.

I'm not saying she's a gold-digger...

I'll be the first to admit it, I listen to pretty wimpy music. My favorite artists are all under a hundred pounds, have sweet beards, like medieval history, and would probably be caught dancing with a beaver before running a half marathon. And since I'm doing the second one, it's becoming kind of unsupportable (can't remember English equivalent of this word) to listen to while I'm running.

It's the most embarrassing thing ever but I LOVE running to rap music. And pop music.

Let's take a short break to think about how awesome a music video with dancing beavers would be. I can't stop thinking about that idea now.

And we're back. My iPod has been filling up with some unusual stuff lately. It's half the nerdy things one would expect me to listen to, and half Eminem, Lil Jon, and Lady Gaga. Which brings me to my question.

Usually I'm too "in the zone" or something to stop and notice just how terrible these lyrics are. But I caught this one at a stoplight:

It's not that I don't like you, I'm just at a party. And I am sick and tired of my phone ringing.

Are there listeners out there that say to themselves "That's what I've always wanted to say, I could just never find the words."?



And my next question for these listeners, can you give me some more music recommendations?

quack quack quack quack

Today one of the kindergarten teachers was so moved by my rendition of "Five Little Ducks" that he slowly stopped grading, quietly came closer to the group, and sat staring at me in awe until his eyes got watery.

One of the kindergarteners was so moved that he began quacking loudly, making the noises increasingly guttural until it sounded like he was dry-heaving.

We all show our emotions differently I guess.

half the legs, twice the personality.

It's pretty fun to go to four countries in a week, but it's got nothing on going home to my little apartment in a city where I never get lost and know all the good restaurants and bus schedules. While buying groceries today, a homeless man in front of me in line asked the cashier if he could just have something to eat, and she gave him a bag of rolls. A man accused me of stealing oranges at the market and I gave him the business. I saw a one-legged pigeon. The beach, the sun, the puddles of urine, it feels so good to be back in Marseille.

Is it a bad idea to tell the internet the name of the street I live on? Maybe it means I'll get some mail!

Anyway, here's a song about the street I live on. The best street in the world, ask anyone.



I love Marseille enough to be interested in French football, enough to recommend fish soup to my friends, and enough to get misty-eyed when I listen to this song. Do I love it enough to make slideshows with wild yellow letters? No, but bless this person who does. (This video has the whole song! Watch it eight times!!!)



lyrics
Aux quatre coins du monde, indiscutablement
On aime sa faconde et ses mille défauts charmants
Elle a la grâce brune des filles du midi
Il n'en existe qu'une, voilà pourquoi chez nous l'on dit :

On connaît dans chaque hémisphère
Notre Cane... Cane... Canebière
Et partout elle est populaire
Notre Cane... Cane... Canebière
Elle part du vieux port et sans effort
Coquin de sort, elle exagère
Elle finit au bout de la terre
Notre Cane... Cane... Canebière

Comment vous la décrire, son charme est sans pareil
Joyeuse elle s'étire comme un lézard au soleil
Internationale pour l'amour, Tron de l'air !
Elle est la capitale des marins de l'univers


five-second translation for my mom if she even reads this anymore:
In all four corners of the earth, without a doubt
Everyone adores her street-smarts and her thousand charming faults
She has the dark grace of a girl in the sun
There's nothing else like her, that's why around here we say

She's known in every hemisphere!
Our Cane... Cane.. Cane... CANEBIÈRE!
And she's popular everywheeeeeere!
Our Cane... Cane.. Cane... CANEBIÈRE!
She leaves the Vieux Port and then, with ease
She's kind of a rascal, she exaggerates and says
that she goes all the way to the end of the earth
Our Cane... Cane.. Cane... CANEBIÈRE!

The fact that the street is a girl makes it so obvious why I love this song. I have a thousand faults. I exaggerate TWO THOUSAND TIMES A DAY. And I love lizards. Oops, I forgot to translate the bit about the lizard, sorry. The point is, Marseille is so much like me I just want to give it a hug but I just showered so I'm going to think about it instead.

What can I say, I love things that are missin' parts.

make sure you're sitting down.

Yo Gabba Gabba + The Decemberists = OH MY GOODNESS.



UPDATE: The video disappeared. Try watching it here, and if that doesn't work, call me and I'll sing it for you.

my mom's going to make blueberry pancakes

Here is the funny thing about teaching in France: I have no teaching experience. And I've never tried to hide that, from the program or my schools or teachers. I tell them all the time that my only experience with English is speaking it, and my only qualification for working with kids is that my favorite food is candy.

My actual job title is "assistant," to a real English teacher. But for me and all the other assistants I know, that's somehow been interpreted as teaching classes to 400 kids a week, and doing all the lessons completely on my own. So, I'm just making this teaching thing up as I go along. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't. If it works half the time I consider that a success. The kids like it, the teachers never complain, and sometimes I'm excellent. (Especially in kindergarten. I'm a natural with five-year-olds.)

Until today, when one teacher stopped me as I walked into her class and told me she had some news.

"I've been talking with some of the other teachers," she said "and a lot of us don't want you to come to our classes anymore."

"Oh, ok." I said, somewhat taken aback by what sounded more like a 14-year-old not inviting me to her birthday party than a grown woman talking to a college student. "I see, English every week does take up a lot of time."


I was rarely invited to birthday parties as a child.

"No, it's not the time at all. The thing is, and it's nothing against you but, you're not a good teacher. In fact you're actually a really bad teacher."

"Alright, that's fair." I wondered why she had felt like she needed to add this, and why she hadn't said anything three months ago. "I've never taught before, and I'm only supposed to be an assistant, but if you're ok without my help that's no problem at all."

"Oh we're MORE than ok without your help." Oh my goodness why was she being so mean. "You just confuses the kids more - it's horrible."

I thanked her again, and didn't bother to remind her for the tenth time that I'm not a teacher. But if I had had more time to chat, say, two minutes and forty-eight seconds, I would have said this:



Then I got a crazy idea that no one wanted me anymore, and the principals would fire me and I would be sent back to the US with a frown-face stamp on my passport. But I went around and did a head count, and the rest of my teachers still definitely want me. Everyone else thought I did an awesome job today. And a boy with a bloody nose walked up to me right before I left and said, with excellent pronunciation: "Good morning, Brooke. I've got a bloody nose."

Granted, it was afternoon. But I don't think he has a horrible English teacher.

now she's hit the big time

Whenever I tell the kids that class is over their response is a cumulative "Deja!?" (Already?) followed by tears and desperate last-minute hugs as I pack up my things and leave the room.

Once I'm out I stand in the hallway for a few seconds. I listen to the muffled applause and screams of "I love Brooke!" I check to make sure I have my jacket. I wipe the chalk dust off my hands. And I fight the temptation to run back in yelling ENCORE! to the delight of my screaming fans.



I haven't done it. Yet. But I realized maybe comparing myself to the Beatles isn't that far-fetched - our fans have a lot in common. Like the bizarre fan art - the little pictures of me and British flags drawn on scraps of paper.



And the fact that while at school I'm constantly being chased after by packs of screaming fans clinging to my legs and trying to kiss me.



And when I cross the courtyard and the preschoolers I teach are playing in the preschool cage, they try to claw their way over the fence like wild animals, screaming "ELLO GOODBYE!"



"Don't let it go to your head." you say. "Why are they drawing British flags when you're American?" you ask. But I only get one year as a rock star, and I'm going to enjoy it. So if you have any more questions to ask me, I'll be on hopscotch square 7 during recess, signing autographs.

everyone take their pencils out of their mouths

Because it's time to learn the days of the week!
I teach at three different schools, three different days.

At my Monday school the kids are angels and all the classes have an ocean view. At the end of the day I think "I love teaching! I want to keep teaching forever! I'm so good at it!" Monday is a the-bus-arrives-exactly-when-I-get-to-the-bus-stop-so-I-don't-have-to-wait-at-all kind of day.

At my Tuesday school the kids are pretty nice and it's in a nice neighborhood. Not angels, not on the beach, but nice. On Tuesdays I think "Teaching is ok. But I'm not very good at it, and it's really exhausting." Tuesday is a miss-the-bus kind of day.

My Thursday school is different. On Thursdays I think "I hate teaching, I'm horrible at teaching, I hate this country, and I want to go home." Tuesday is a take-the-bus-half-an-hour-in-the-wrong-direction-and-then-step-in-dog-crap-twice kind of day.

Today is Monday!

If you still haven't grasped them I recommend this video:

need some toast?

Every morning when I wake up I stumble out of bed and type my dreams on my computer. I used to write them in a notebook, but they were only legible 20% of the time. Which is really unfortunate when they include gems such as these:

I hurry to my next class, Fight Room. "Did you take notes last week?" I ask my classmate in the seat next to me. He punches me in the face.

Snow is falling really thick, and I catch a huge piece. Then I realize it's not snow it's a giant dead white goose, and I yell "don't touch that!" but it's too late my sister has already touched it. She freaks out and wants to wash her hands, so I say lets go up to that abandoned castle and you can wash them.

He was sitting across the street with his guitar. "What do you want me to play?" he yelled, and I said Cat Stevens.

I find a photography book with pictures of George Costanza wearing a business suit. Then I'm in the book, and the two of us are being chased by a giant catfish, and the more we swim toward land the further away land is.

Was handing out toast to people who needed it.

clap your hands

Maybe teaching English to preschoolers isn't so bad.

hint: it's the last one.

Today, while I was singing a ton of "hello" songs with a group of five-year-olds, one adorable girl asked if we could sing another song. I asked her which one. "No, none of those ones," she said, bouncing in her seat. "Sing us a very beautiful song, and we can just sit and listen."

So I sang this.


Which one of those sentences isn't true?