Where, oh where, have my TV shows gone?

May is always a good month. Summer comes, the weather is changing into prime pool time weather, the sun sets later giving us ample daytime playtime, and the best thing of all, I get some time off work. Some have told me teachers don't live in the real world since we get a "2 month break," but let me assure ALL of you that teachers need summer otherwise the amount of teacher/student battery cases as well as the numbers in the psych ward would rise dramatically. However, with May also comes a sad, sad time: season finale time.

Yes, I watch TV. Yes, I watch a lot of TV. Some might even say I have a "relationship" with my television. So what if I have a show (sometimes 2) each night that are scheduled to record on my DVR? Don't hate, appreciate. This past year did not disappoint in the television department. From 24 to American Idol to The Office to How I Met Your Mother, I have been entertained all spring long. So many questions are left unanswered. How is Jack Bauer going to come out of this biohazard sickness alive? When are Jim and Pam going to tie the knot? Before or after they have their little Jam baby (Jim + Pam, what up)? Who IS Ted Mosby's (*wink* architect) wife and WHEN will we meet her? And most importantly, how many pieces of hate mail are the producers from American Idol going to get from queens, hags, and middle aged women across the country due to Adam Lambert's "shocking" loss?

I could probably talk forever about my opinion on AI this season. One thing is for sure, I wanted sweet little Allison to win or that precious Danny Gokey. They were both amazing. COME ON! Maybe I'm biast because they both have raspy voices and give hope to vocal nodgal suffers everywhere, but I just love them. Don't get me wrong, Adam Lambert has talent, but he belongs on Broadway, and I believe I would know. I mean, after all, I did do choir tour. Em-bar-ass-ing.

SPEAKING of choir tour, I could not be more excited about Fox's new show coming on in the Fall, Glee. There was a special sneak preview after Idol on Tuesday, and it was hilarious, and also complete with numbers from several of my favorite musicals. Seriously, who is going to pay for my all access pass to Broadway? I'm going to need that to happen, A-SAP. You can make donations and checks payable to Katie Shropshire. All donations will be tax deductible. Maybe.

Anastas-yeaaaaah

I know, I know, I have not posted on this thing in forever. That is because school was ending, life was chaotic, and I got lazy; but school is now over, it is summer, and I felt it was high time to make a post.

My last day with my kids was on Thursday of this week. I felt it was a little bitter sweet as this has been such a crazy, hectic year of teaching; I say that as if I have anything to actually compare it to, but you get the point. The kids did lots of fun activities all week to keep themselves entertained while Miss Shrop got her clean on, if you will. They colored, they talked (a lot), and most importantly watched many fantastic and awesome children's movies, one of which would be one of my all time favorites: 20th century Fox's Anastasia.

Ever since the Explorium in Mobile had an exhibit on the Romanov family, I have been fascinated by the story of Anastasia. I know you're all surprised; me, be infatuated by a sad, traumatic event in world history? Get out! (Enter my other weird fascination with WWII/Holocaust) Anyway, so I love the movie Anastasia. My family used to jam out to the soundtrack in the minivan all the time as well as watch the movie loads and loads of times. Now mind you, I was in about 7th or 8th grade when this movie came out, so honestly, I really have no actual excuse to of ever liked it, but it is what it is.

Besides the exciting, overexaggerated storyline, the phenomenal musical scores, the flirty banter between the cinematic epic's headliners, there is one part I love maybe the most, and that would be Dimitri. Dimitri is the very much animated, very much not real leading man of the film. Now I can't tell you if it's the looks, that fact that he's a little mischevous but turns from his "sinful" ways, or that John Cusack is his voice, but for whatever reason, he is, to quote the great Randy Jackson "for me, for you" the hottest animated male ever. Now, I know I might have some argument from some saying other more "popular" animated characters are more attractive, say Eric from The Little Mermaid or Moses from The Prince of Egypt (maybe that's just Joy Tiley and Lucy) and so on, but I stick to my guns on this one. Then again, I might have others who would argue, "Uh, hey, it's a cartoon, how can someone be hott? You're weird."

You might be judging me right now, and that's ok, I fear no judgement on this matter; but deep down inside, you know there is some animated male that you find more attractive than others and, if given the chance, you'd definitely break out into random song with them any day.

I mean, look at that face. What's not to love?

Little Barber Shop of Horrors

Since the arrival of Spring, the kids in my class have gone bananas. B-A-N-A-N-A-S. I'm not entirely sure if it's the weather, or the fact that we have T minus 24 days of school and counting, or what, but they have been nuts. They've all got the crazy eye. Spring fever. Whatever you want to call it. And apparently, lucky for me, everyone tells me this is how it is until the end. of. the. YEAR. Eva and I were discussing it and we decided we don't think we'll be able to make it that long. I mean, I may very well end up in a home, or an institution, but whatever.

So, the other day at school, we had Career Day. For 2 hours, my kids, along with all the other kids in school, went to visit various stations to check out different careers. First, we went to see a Karate instructor demonstration, which they loved. Then, we went to listen to, and I mean this when I say it, SERIOUSLY, the most depressing clown ever. First of all, I hate clowns. Second of all, she was so sad and boring. She told the kids that, "Being a clown is only 5% fun and 95% hard work." Does she not know 1st graders do not understand percentages? I'm an adult and I barely get them. And what a depressing thing to tell 6 and 7 yeard olds anyway! All they cared about was the little dog she had doing tricks, and they barely saw that lovely performance. Then we went to see the firemen and fire truck and lastly we went to see a police officer. During his speech, SEVERAL students wanted to share about how their mother/father/uncle/aunt/neighbor/step-cousin/god sister/whoever was currently or has previously been in jail. Delightful.

The rest of the afternoon was spent making The Gallon Man. We've been learning measurement so I decided we'd make a Gallon Man. I'd explain it to you, but you don't care, and plus I don't want to do it, but just know that it involves colors, glue, and scissors. So we are working, quite nicely I might say, and I'm walking them step-by-step through every little thing because that's just what you have to do, when one of the girls in my room comes up and says she "found big pieces of hair in the trash." She then escorts me to the trash can where I do, in fact, see with my own eyes said pieces of hair. I ask the room who cut their hair and immediately an array of choruses of "Not me!" "I don't know, but I didn't do it!" and "I ain't even got hair, Miss Shrop!" broke out throughout the room. I kind of write it off, figuring I'll just get to the bottom of this hairy situation later, when not 5 minutes passes and the same student actually brings me another chunk of hair. I detest hair that is not attached to the head/body/wherever it is supposed to be; it grosses me out. Two more times this very same thing happened when finally, I'd had it. I examined the hair color closely, and at one point was pretty convinced that one of them had actually cut the under part of my hair because it was somewhat the same color, but I soon lay that theory to rest. I then proceeded to walk around the room with a small piece of the hair and held it up to any child's head that even remotely had the same color hair. I finally looked at the child who kept bringing me the hair to tell her I don't who this could belong to, when I stop. I look. I stare. I gasp. On either side of this poor child's long light brown locks are two, rather large, chunks of missing hair. The conversation went something like this:

Me: "Oh my goodness, honey, what is this?" (as I rake my hands through either side of her hair, pulling out even more pieces of hair)
Child: "What?" (genuinely very VERY confused)
Me: "Sweetie, this is YOUR hair. Did you cut your hair?"
Child: "My hair? No! I promise!"
Me: "Well, baby, it's yours. I don't know how it happened, but it's your hair."
Child: "Aww, man! Now I'm gonna have two big chunks of hair missing on my head!"

The mystery of how or why this happened is still unsolved. There are several theories, but no concrete evidence for them. One includes the girl next to said girl apparently pushed her hair out of her face for her while she had scissors in her hand and this possibly caused the locks to seperate, or the child did the same thing herself and accidently cut it. Regardless, I did have to apologize profusely to the child's mother and assured her all students will be closley watched while using scissors. At least hers, anyway.



P.S. I had a FANTASTIC cherry on top of my mediocre week this Friday. Seems as if yours truly has won tickets to the Schaeffer Eye Center Crawfish Boil the first weekend in May. At this grand event I will get to see the lovely Jason Mraz and perhaps Snoop Dogg. I've even been entered into a drawing now to possibly MEET Jason Mraz. That would make my 2009, I tell ya. The great thing is, I never win anything! I found out the creeperton DJ on the radio station, who kept referring to me as a hottie even though he's never seen me and it was 7 in the morning, lives in my apartment complex and he told me to "look for him around." Sure thing, boss. I'll be watching close for your voice since I know what you look like and all. Creeeeep-yyyyyy.

Spring Break or Bust

You might be asking yourself, "What? Katie Shropshire exists? I thought she was just some phantom blogger who only occasionally will grace us with some classroom tale," but I am here today to tell not of a classroom tale, but to tell of my Spring Break.

Spring Break should be a magical time. A time of rest, relaxation, doing the things you love that are fun. Should be. I will say that I did have a most enjoyable Spring Break. I did not do much, which was awesome, and I got to see some friends I haven't seen in forever, ate at Butches and Mellow, and even venture to Mobile's very own Crescent Theater. If you don't know what it is, go out and support it, at least once. It's this little theater on LoDa (that's Lower Dauphin Street for those who did not sport the bumper sticker on their car in high school or weren't privy to taking a Mobile History Class where every Thursday we took a "field trip" to LoDa and got to get Krispy Kreme doughnuts on the way home. Ah, that life) that plays small independent films. The guy who owns it really loves movies. And I mean really loves movies. He tried to let us borrow his Swedish vampire movie DVD and said "Come back in a couple of days and I'll let you guys borrow it! It's great!" Maybe next time, Movie Guy; but I digress.

For the past couple of months I have been dying to do 3 things: 1-Go to the Audobon Aquarium of the Americas. 2-Go to the Audobon Zoo. 3-Eat some delish beignets. Where's the one place that houses all 3 of these exciting events? Why none other than the soup bowl city itself, our neighbor to the west, the place that stole Mardi Gras and "did it right," a little place I like to call New Orleans, or NOLA. My family has always loved to do these three things, so it came as no surprise to me that my sister Amber immediately was on board with hitting up these three lovely hot spots with me. We decided that the last Saturday of my Spring Break we would make the journey over to NOLA. We were so excited. Giant Sharks, Jelly Fish, Arangatuns, fabulous French doughnuts, what more could two you girls ask for? Let me tell you friends, nothing, that's what. And we didn't get any of those things. Allow me to explain.

To say we didn't get any of those is a bit dramatic. As I explain the story, let's see if you can figure out which of those things we did get. Did I just go 1st grade on you guys? My bad. We arose at 7:45 am that Saturday morning to begin our treck to New Orleans. Just a couple of modern day explorers; a regular Lewis and Clarke tale, if you will (and you will). We got ready, said bye to my mother and were off on our adventure by 8:45. We even stopped to get some Chick-Fil-A for breakfast which everyone knows is my fav. The day was off to a great start...until we hit traffic. One of the biggest questions I have had recently is the existence of highway construction. What purpose does it serve but to make all impatient drivers angry, irrate, and irritated. It never ever seems to get done. Point in case--just HOW LONG has Montgomery been trying to improve their I-65/85 junction? TOO LONG, I tell you. But anyway, yes, we hit traffic. On I-10. 30 minutes away from our destination. We sat. We waited. We watched as people continued to be ignorant of the concept of merging. We watched a woman almost get rammed in the arse of her car because she refused to move. She was just SITTING THERE. Why, we are still not sure, but this left us with a good 15 minutes of banter back and forth on why that woman sucks so much. But we didn't let this get us down. We cranked up the tunes even louder and just sang our little hearts out. I mean, don't tell us not to live...lifes candy and the suns a ball of butter, DON'T bring around the clouds to rain on OUR parade...woooah. But anyway, this little traffic jam, got more cars than a beach got sand, but us an hour pack in our regularly scheduled plan, but again, we were determined to persevre.

We finally made it to New Orleans. Amber and I were admiring all the rubble and mess that still exists from the hurricane, giving our less than 2 cents opinion on what the government should do to clean it up and rid that area of infection, disease, rats, and roaches, when we realized we might have missed our exit. This was after our father's warning on how not to get lost, pay attention, and we miss our exit. After several exits and enterances and explaining to Amber AGAIN that "Exit Only" does not mean you can't get back on the exit, we finally made it to the Aquarium. This little detour added an extra 30 minutes on to our all ready late arrival. No matter. We were there. We got to the Aquarium, purchased our "Audobon Experience" passes (you get into the zoo, aquarium, IMAX, and the insecturarium for the low price of $32.95) and hit the trail on our wildlife adventure. We made our way through the aquarium, only to remember that it is not actually as good as we remembered. There were too many people everywhere, especially small children, and we kept feeling like we had to get out of the way for them to see, but then were torn because we also paid good money to see the penguins and the otters too. There was also this giant lady in a wheel chair who kept blocking all the sea horse tanks. It's like she was reading our minds and thought "This is the tank you want to go see? Well, I'm going to park my giant motorized Rascal infront of it for 5-10 minutes until you become frustrated and walk off at which time I will follow, and beat you, to your next location." So the aquarium was not so awesome. No matter. On to bigger and better things. Beignets.

We went to the Cafe Du Monde in the Riverwalk because we didn't want to get caught up in the Jackson Square hullabuloo. As responsible and well raised children, we know it's important to eat a well balanced meal before eating deserts, so we went to grab a bite in the food court. Let it be said, the food in the food court sucks. Gross chicken, gross french fries, gross everything, but we ate it anyway. I even saved plenty of room for the light and fluffy scrumtrilescent treat. We make our way to the cafe, stand in line, discuss how excited we are to eat beignets, how we need to get an order to bring home to Mom, when our dreams come crashing and burning before our very eyes. A sign that read "Cash Only. No checks or cards." was posted right at the ordering end of the counter. I thought this must be a mistake; it must be outdated, but as I looked around I realized the signs were EVERYWHERE. Ok, not everywhere, but there was one more posted at the cash register. Well, we didn't have any cash and didn't see a nearby ATM, so we sadly stepped out of line. We quickly came to the conclusion that we would just walk down to Jackson Square, that certainly that location would accept debit cards. After all, this is 2009, not 1909. Well, we were wrong. They didn't. Not to mention the line at the original Cafe Du Monde was OUT OF CONTROL. Sadly and slowly, we tredged back to our car. It was now 4:00. Amber had an epiphone. Or actually a realization. The zoo closes at 5. We thought it couldn't be true. She also remembered, after telling me she DID KNOW, that she actually did NOT know how to get to the zoo from the aquarium. We called the Mom who had to navigate us as we wandered up and down Canal, finally making the several turnoffs we need to find and made it to the zoo...at 4:45. There were tons of people around so we though, maybe we were wrong, maybe the zoo DOESN'T close at 5. WRONG. It does.

We got in the car and made the trip back home. Amber remarked that she wanted to take her zoo ticket and "pee all on it then throw it out the window because that's what I did with my money." I decided since I did not get a beignet that I would, in fact, need ice cream. We stopped at Dairy Queen in some po-dunk town. We also noticed a giant white castle that SOMEONE had built to live in along the coastline. This provided us with a good 20 minutes of back and forth jokes in regards to the matter, that included "Just take a left at the Castle and you'll be there. If you pass the Castle, you've gone too far." We were able to laugh off the situation because that's what Amber and I do. Had it been anyone else, they might have cried or yelled for hours, but we just laughed, ate a Blizzard, tried not to the laugh at the drive-thru worker with the severe r-control problem, and throw our Blizzards at the large group of antique car owners who decided to have a car show in the parking lot. All in all, it was a crappy trip, but at least it provided me with a good story, and now took away 20 minutes of your life.

Picasso? Not so much.

Let's go ahead and write it down that the month of February, as far as school has been concerned, has been the exact OPPOSITE of awesome. This week, especially Friday definitely added to the non-awesome of it all. Allow me to elaborate.

Friday afternoon my kids go to art. They are a pretty well behaved group of kids, outside of the fact that they can't ever, and I mean EVER close their mouths for 5 seconds and think before they act. I really think there is something in about 8-10 of their genetic make up that makes them unable to hear practical and informational bits of advice from those older. It is literally as if they get inside the head of the person giving directions (mostly me) and hear me think "I sure HOPE no one does THIS," and they do the very thing I do not want done. It's really quite amazing.

Anyway, I go to pick up my kids from art, and I hear a child being fussed at. I definitely hear the phrases, "Dry it up," and "I don't want to hear it," so I automatically know said kid is crying. This said kid (we will call him Boy) weeps uncontrollably ev-er-y-time he gets in trouble. He is one of the tallest kids in the class, yet is the most sensitive. He tattles and disobeys and is yet so SHOCKED when he has to move his clothespin (the consequence for not making "smart choices." Earlier that day, Boy had to move his clothespin for blatantly farting on the carpet and rolling around laughing about it during center time. He thought it was hilarious, but soon starting crying when he got in trouble. Unbelievable. But back to art--so I hear Boy getting in trouble, so I know I'm in for tons of fun when I pick him up. When the door the art room opens, Boy's face is the first face I see...and do you want to know what I saw?

PAINT. ALL. ON. HIS. FACE. Paint! Boy had apparently taken his thumb and painted it while the teacher wasn't looking then proceeded to wipe the paint all on his cheeks. AND THEN, when he was repremanded, in standard fashion, begin to cry. I saw him and immediately pointed to hallway for him to go out there and said one word to him: "RED." This means he moves his pin to red which is pretty much the worst. This word sent him into a frenzy of tears and wailing and knashing of teeth. Ok, maybe there was no knashing, but there were tears and wailing. I mean, he carried on all the way back to our classroom. You would've thought I was pinching him. I wasn't going to let him in my room until he calmed down, and he never did. I tried to talk calmly with him but he just kept on and kept on, so I told him we were all going to have snack; he could join us whenever. He finally went to the bathroom and washed his face and came in to sit down. I have absolutely no sympathy for Boy. He drives me nuts. He told me he was now not going to get any birthday presents or a party because he had a red day. Most of you might feel bad and then just move his pin back; well not me. The truth is, he'll get whatever he wants and there is no way I am being manipulated into thinking otherwise. Call me mean, call me insensitive. I just refused to have one pulled over on me by a young William Wallace (you know, the paint, on the face...not a good reference).

I am hoping the month will get better. This Friday kicks of the Spring 2009 concert tour. We'll be heading to ATL to see Ben Folds at the Tabernacle. The rest of the tour consists of these other fantastic acts.

April 11-Flight of the Conchords
April 20-Dave Matthews Band
April 27-Ray LaMontagne

With possibly the Avvett Brothers, Ben Kweller, and various other artists sprinkled here and there. It's gonna be amaaaaaaaazing. Expect pictures and full reports. Until then...

Dreads, Phantoms, Drums, what's not to love?

Season 8 of American Idol has finally after weeks of auditions, gotten underway. I am excited, yet also, a little skeptical of this years contestants. As always in the beginning of a season, I am wary that any of the contestants will be as good as ones I've like prior. I gotta tell you though, for me, season 7 had to be one of my favorites. I'm not entirely sure if it's because I watched it every single week 2 times a week while helping Shane and LaJuan take care of the girls or what, but I just loved it. With all the stopping and starting of songs (thank you Brook (or is it Brooke?) White), forgetting lyrics not just once but TWICE--in the same night (Jason Castro, my love), technical "foreigners" being in the top running for THE American Idol (Carlie...Michael Johns...always a pleasure, but I mean, where's the accent, come on?), putting hard rock twists on 80's and early 90's classics (Oh David Cook), the excessive amount of guy-liner (again, David Cook), or bringing middle-aged women to tears with soft-pleasing tones (The other David), it was just an all around great season. I did like others in the past, buuuut not like last year.

So, in standard fashion, I have selected a few video clips to commemorate favorite Idol performances. Relax...and enjoy. Shropshire, out.

I don't care WHAT Simon says...this stuff is gold. But Lord Andrew is a freak of the week.



I love this song anyway and it always makes me cry, but I just love this little dread head freak.



Also, another all time favorite of mine. PLUS, he's just so awkward. And high. It's hilarious.


I do love a piano...and it IS Brooke...with an e.


Alright, this one is really just for the sheer fact that Jason Castro sang like all my favorite songs...GRANTED he didn't ACTUALLY know he was singing about, but come on, Grisabella the Glamour Cat...that hits right to the heart.


I mean, kid wasn't my fav, but there's no doubt he can saaaaaaang. I mean, saaaaaaaaaaaang.


This is personally my favorite re-make of Mr. Cook, so, here goes...if though technically somone else did the re-make first, so it's really a re-make OF a re-make.


Annnnnnnnnd to top it off with one of my all time favs just because Blake Lewis is so freakin random...I don't think he's givin love a bad name. And they say David Cook was the pioneer of "original" versions. Ok, maybe not.

Unpack your Magic Number 3 in the Great American Melting Pot

Does this title confuse you? If you were a fan of School House Rock, then you might actually not be confused. That sentence alone leaves room for confusion, but I digress. ANYWHO, I have always owed the bulk of my knowledge of anything to School House Rock. Those who know me more than likely can attest to the fact that I am auditory learner...frighteningly auditory. You put anything to a song, and I can learn it. I'm not bragging, do not be fooled, because I might not actually know what or be able to "explain" the information I "retained", but so help me I can sing it to you. My sister Amber and brother Sheldon (sorry Leigh, odd one out) are the same. I distinctly remember listening to this tape on the times tables every morning on the way to school in elementary school so that Amber could learn them, and I was probably the only 1st grader who could tell you their 7 times tables, but not have a clue what I was talking about. To the same effect, I was the only kid in kindergarten who knew their 50 states (well in my class anyway) because my brother and sisters learned a "50 Nifty United States" song for chorus and they would practice it at home, so I just picked it up. That little ditty has helped me out a number of times, I tell ya.

So anyway, we've been talking about adjectives at school, so I decided to go raid the movie drawer at school and I stumbled upon The Best of School House Rock! and I was so excited because not only did it have the song "Unpack Your Adjectives" (which is aplicable to what we are learning right now) but pretty much every other SHR song that I love. And to make it better, my kids loved it. I told them that I learned most everything I know from School House Rock, so they said they concluded they don't actually have to listen to me anymore, and are now convinced the only reason I was able to become a teacher is because I listened to School House Rock. I tried to explain it to them, but it just got too hard, so I quit and just pressed play.

So now I decided to take you back to the old school (literally) and share with you some of my favorite SHR songs.

In the area of Grammar...

What's NOT to love about this song? I mean, ok the graphics are poor, but come on, this is an amazing song.


Any person you can know, any place that you can go, and anything that you can show...oh those crazy nouns.


Lolly, Lolly, Lolly...


Oh, those and but and or, they really DO get you pretty far


All I know about the government and how our country came to be, I owe to these next few songs.

Preamble...helped me out tremendously in 5th grade when I had to memorize it


NOW I know how a Bill becomes a law...and whenever I'm in doubt, I always refer back to this song


I really just did this one for Dominique...because she loves it.


The true bane of my existence...mathematics.

According to my kids, this was a "sweet one." So weird.


I mean, dang, I'm adult and this one helped me out...interest...what??


Could've gone on forever, but I felt like I've shared enough. What are your favs? OR maybe you're secretly judging me for being a 24 year old adult posting School House Rock...that's cool...keep that to yourself.