Monday, April 30, 2007
It's easy to accuse him of being a quitter when you don't really understand the true threat of living in a society where freedom of thought and expression is not a right and where friends and neighbors can vanish into the clutches of a corrupt police force, leaving you with no higher authority to turn to other than whatever God/s you may believe in.
Good luck, Sam, please be safe and take care of yourself and don't be a hero. You're far more valuable to the cause OUT of jail.
Friday, April 27, 2007
Thursday, April 26, 2007
6 tablespoons NESTLÉ Table Cream
2 to 4 tablespoons MAGGI TASTE OF ASIA Sweet Chili Sauce
2 tablespoons creamy peanut butter
1 tablespoon chopped roasted peanuts (optional)
2 teaspoons chopped cilantro (optional)
COMBINE table cream, sweet chili sauce and peanut butter in small bowl. Refrigerate until ready to serve. SPRINKLE with peanuts and cilantro before serving.
SERVING SUGGESTIONS: Serve with grilled chicken skewers or raw cut vegetables.
Serving Size: 4
I like to add a tiny splash of lime juice to mine.
I'm seeing a disparity between the rights of teachers and the rights of their students... Students often secretly record their teachers in order to amass proof of unprofessional behavior. The evidence is brought to light, and the teacher is disciplined appropriately. However, should a teacher wish to do pretty much the same thing, he or she is treated far differently. If the video isn't posted on the Internet or shown on the local Jumbo-tron, I fail to see the real problem.
I am aware, however, of the fear of opening the door to violations of privacy as more and more cameras are pointed in our direction, but if limitations are placed on their use (ie. if a teacher feels the ongoing conditions in the classroom are potentially dangerous and he/she has exhausted all other means of behavior modification and the filming is the next step in the whole process as a means of documentation that can not be argued by subjective parents), then I think it can be used within reason.
People always jump to conclusions that each open door will lead to an inevitable floodgate explosion, but with well-worded legislation, limits can be made. It isn't always an all or nothing situation.
If you do get sick and tired of feeling like a victim of the paparazzi, do what I do and give them a little dance routine. If anyone IS actually watching, it should at least brighten their day a little bit.
When I used to work in a Junior High building, students were beaten up in the restrooms, weapons were found in the restroom garbage cans, smoke wafted from the loos, paper towel dispensers were set on fire, and a teacher told me of the time he walked in on a girl who was servicing a NUMBER of boys in the boys' bathroom.
A similar problem with the loos in British schools has led to this proposal to have misted glass walls around each toilet cubicle. It's a sad state of affairs that has led to their having to do this, but I guess it's a fair representation of the type of environment they should expect in prison where their privacy is valued even less if they continue to break rules and put others in danger.
I often use the student's restroom as it is far closer than the staff one, but God knows I HATE overhearing the things that I do. I only wanted to go in for a pee and I come out having to write up a gaggle of class-skippers.
My work never ends. I am the po-po, the Five-oh, and there's no rest for this "Hot Fuzz"... Ooh, that sounded more exciting than I meant!
Tuesday, April 24, 2007
I find it difficult to agree with the censoring of any art form, but it's within his rights to control where his money goes, so good on him.
I can see what the propagation of these negative attitudes can have on the behavior of teenagers and their lowered expectations of themselves, their female peers, and on a race as a whole. I don't know what it would take to diminish these attitudes, but this is a start.
Anyway, I much prefer being called a "whore". I find it more empowering.
That's my guess as to what the fax looked like that that was sent to the Kentucky Correctional and Psychiatric Center and allowed the unauthorized release of Mr. Rouse. I would have written it in crayon if I could have.
I bet Michael Scofield is kicking himself.
Saturday, April 21, 2007
Friday, April 20, 2007
|You Are Kermit|
Hi, ho! Lovable and friendly, you get along well with everyone you know.
You're a big thinker, and sometimes you over think life's problems.
Don't worry - everyone know's it's not easy being green.
Just remember, time's fun when you're having flies!
However, this is the first time that the "before" picture is as doctored as the "after" as found on this website.
There's little to compare to the beauties shared on this sadly abandoned blog. Those made me laugh so hard, I cried!
Cheesy photography is an institution in India and as much as I make fun of it, it would be a cruel world indeed if it had never existed. To view such delights as the one below, visit this site.
Men, the next time someone laughs at your fruity pink drink, tell them you'd rather be mistaken for a fairy than get cancer. THEN we'll see who's laughing.
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
While I may forgive my mother for sending me such forwards in the past, even she has learned what bull they are now that she is wiser in the ways of the Internet. I would forgive her anyway, because she's my mum and she can kick my arse.
Others are not so quick on the uptake and they still believe they're going to get a slice of Gates' squillions of dollars or that the nice Nigerian chap is going to thank them for the use of their bank account with a nice lump of inherited money.
Yesterday, I was sent a forward for one of those well-meaning, but troublingly naive people in the form of a story about little Theodore Stallard and how his teacher's actions changed his life for ever. The story is that his teacher looked into his file and realized that little Teddy was behaving apathetically towards school because his mother had passed away and so she took the time to work with him and, long story short, he becomes a big shot doctor. I've been sent this message before, though not as well-produced (this one had a slideshow of well taken photos to go along with the story), but I decided that this time I was look into it.
Which brings me to my point. For God's sake, people, look things up. It takes barely a moment to find out if the reason something smells suspiciously fishy is because it's a big stinking fish. Anytime there is mention of a last name, use your favorite search engine and find out if the person even exists.
Little Teddy never existed. It's a cute story, sure, and fragments of it are BASED on true events, but please don't believe in everything you're sent.
On the other hand... If you really believe in the honesty and goodness of man, I've got a few million dollars that need a place to stay, so if you'd be so kind... All I need is your social security number, bank account number, and home address.
By the way, baiting scammers has become a source of much amusement and here's an example of the scammer being the one made to look the fool. Here's another. I love it!
Tuesday, April 17, 2007
Monday, April 16, 2007
My personal favorite is the surrealism one.
ANARCHISM: You have two cows. The cows decide you have no right to do anything with their milk and leave to form their own society.
ANARCHISM: You have two cows. Either you sell the milk at a fair price or your neighbors try to take the cows and kill you.
ARISTOCRATISM: You have two cows. You sell both and buy one really big cow - with a pedigree.
ARTIST -- VISUAL: You have two cows. You stuff them and put them in glass display boxes. In London.
BAHRAINISM: You have two cows. Some high government official steals one, milks it, sells the milk and pockets the profit. The government tells you there is just one cow and not enough milk for the people. The people riot and scream death to the government and carry Iranian flags. The Parliament, after thinking for 11 months, decides to employ ten Bahrainis to milk all the cows at the same time to cut back on unemployment.
BRITISH: You have two cows. They are crazy. You try to sell them in Europe.
BRITISH -- MAJOR: You have two cows. One has BSE. You get a vet to give the other one the all clear, and then declare there is no problem from BSE in your country.
BUREAUCRACY: You have two cows. At first the government regulates what you can feed them and when you can milk them. Then it pays you not to milk them. Then it takes both, shoots one, milks the other and pours the milk down the drain. Then it requires you to fill out forms accounting for the missing cows.
CAPITALISM: You have two cows. You sell one and buy a bull.
CAPITALISM -- AMERICAN: You have two cows. You sell one of them, and buy a bull. The cow and bull have a great love life; you sell the movie rights to Hollywood. Then you go into real estate.
CAPITALISM -- HONG KONG You have two cows. You sell three of them to your publicly listed company, using letters of credit opened by your brother-in-law at the bank, then execute a debt / equity swap with associated general offer so that you get all four cows back, with a tax deduction for keeping five cows. The milk rights of six cows are transferred via a Panamanian intermediary to a Cayman Islands company secretly owned by the majority shareholder, who sells the rights to all seven cows' milk back to the listed company. The annual report says that the company owns eight cows, with an option on one more. Meanwhile, you kill the two cows because the feng shui is bad.
CENTRALISM: You have two cows. And a problem finding them in the middle of the field with 100,000,000 other cows.
CONSERVATIONISM: You have two cows. You lock them up, and charge people to look at them.
COMMUNISM: You have two cows. The government takes both of them and gives you part of the milk. Once.
COMMUNISM: You have two cows. The government takes both cows. The government sells the milk in government stores. You can't afford the milk. You wither away.
COMMUNISM: You have two cows. The government takes both and gives you spoiled milk.
COMMUNISM -- CAMBODIAN: You have two cows. The government takes both and shoots you.
COMMUNISM -- CAMBODIAN: You have two cows. The government sends a teenager in a red bandana to shoot them, then he shoots you.
COMMUNISM -- CHINESE: You don't have any cows. The government sets up a joint venture with McDonald's.
COMMUNISM -- CHINESE: You have two cows. You take care of them. The government takes all the milk, but you are encouraged to steal some of it back (before someone else does).
COMMUNISM -- CHINESE - MAO STYLE: You have two pigs. The government launches a campaign to convince you to donate them "voluntarily" to provide meat for workers in the city. The government then declares that people don't need pigs to make pork. Quoting the correct phrases from your little red book, you and your neighbors try to create pork from sheer willpower. Your local party leader reports that you have exceeded all expectations. Your neighbors starve.
COMMUNISM -- CUBAN - CASTRO STYLE: Fidel Castro has two cows. They are F1's, a cross between the Cebu cow and the Holstein cow. Only one cow, "White Udder," works. When she dies she is stuffed and placed in a museum by Castro, "The Dictator of the Cows," where "future generations could admire her magnificent udders." You have not seen cow milk since 1985.
COMMUNISM -- CUBAN: You have two cows. Fidel tells you some undercover CIA agents have infected all of the cows in your region with a foreign disease that kills the cows. You and your family become malnourished. It begins to occur to you that Fidel doesn't know what he is talking about.
COMMUNISM -- CUBAN: You no longer have any cows. They sailed to Miami. You still have no milk - but you do have Fidel.
COMMUNISM -- "PURE": You have two cows. Your neighbors help you take care of them, and you all share the milk.
COMMUNISM -- "PURE": You have two cows. Your neighbors help you take care of them, and you all share the milk. Well, maybe the local bully gets more, or a few neighbors band together to kill you so that there is more milk for everyone else.
COMMUNISM -- SOVIET: You have two cows. You have to take care of them, but the government takes all the milk. Then the government sends you to prison.
COMMUNISM -- SOVIET: You have two cows. You count them and realize you have four cows. You drink more Vodka. You count the cows again and realize you have eleventy six cows. You drink even more Vodka. After a while, you realize that eleventy isn't a real number. You count the cows again and have two cows. You open another bottle of Vodka and try to drown the loss of eleventy four cows.
DEMOCRACY: You have two cows. Your neighbors decide who gets the milk.
DEMOCRACY: You have two cows. A vote is held, and the cows win.
DEMOCRACY: You have two cows. They outvote you 2-1 to ban all meat and dairy products. You go bankrupt.
DEMOCRACY -- AMERICAN (a republic): You have two cows. The government exercises those powers delegated to it by the people, who are sovereign. The majority does not rule because the people and their representatives (elected, appointed and employed) are constrained by various checks and balances, including the Constitution, the Bill of Rights, the three co-equal branches of government, and the 50 state republics (see, e.g., Article IV, section 4). So what the government does with your cows and with the milk from those cows depends on the interaction between the people and the checks and balances mentioned above.
DEMOCRACY -- BRITISH: You have two cows. You feed them sheep's brains and they go mad. The government doesn't do anything.
DEMOCRACY -- REPRESENTATIVE: You have two cows. Your neighbors pick someone to tell you who gets the milk.
DICTATORSHIP: You have two cows. The government takes both cows and drafts you.
DUBAISM: You have two cows. You create a website for them and advertise them in all magazines. You create a Cow City or Milk Town for them. You sell off their milk before the cows have even been milked to both legitimate and shady investors who hope to resell the non-existent milk for a 100% profit in two years' time. You bring Tiger Woods to milk the cows first to attract attention. Your cows are tended to by underpaid migrant workers and your cows' rights outweight those of your workers.
EGYPTIANISM: You have two cows. Both are voting for Moooooobarak! Or not. He gets “elected” anyway.
EUROPEAN UNIONISM: You have two goats. The EU declares them to be fruit in order to conform to a rare Belgian custom of making Cow Jam (jam being required to have at least 45% fruit).
EUROPEAN UNIONISM: You have two cows. The EU develops a quota system that "limits the gas emissions from flatulent cows." You sell your carbon allotment, not the milk.
FASCISM: You have two cows. The government takes both, hires you to take care of them, and sells you the milk.
FASCISM: You have two cows. The government takes one away and presses it into military service.
FEUDALISM: You have two cows. Your lord takes some of the milk.
FRISBEETARIANISM: You have two cows. One of them flies up on the roof and gets stuck. You hope the government provides cow ladders.
IDEALISM: You have two cows. You get married and your partner milks them.
INDUSTRIALISM: You have two cows. You dissect them both and figure out how to build a milk-factory instead.
IRAQISM: The British Government sends in a herd of 20 cows in a trial run to help a village outside Basra. The villagers are extremely grateful for the extra milk and the health of the children improves daily. A terrorist group then kidnaps the cows and accuses them of being traitors to "the cause." The terrorists then produce signed confessions from the cows and systematically assassinates each one in front of Al Jazeera television cameras.
KUWAITISM: Upon hearing how popular cows are in the Gulf region, a group of young male Kuwaitis buy a herd. Unfortunately, they attach so many accessories (ski-racks, 3500 watt sub-woofers, nipple lights, etc.) that the cows almost collapse under the weight and/or embarrassment. The herd are all tragically killed in a massive pile-up while their owners are attempting to perform donuts by the Towers.
LEBANONISM: You have two cows. One is owned by Syria and the other is controlled by the government.
LIBERALISM: You have two cows. You sell both to the rich. The government then taxes the rich one cow and gives it to the poor.
LIBERALISM: You have two cows. You give away one cow and get the government to give you a new cow. Then you give them both away.
LIBERTARIANISM: You have two cows. You let them do what they want.
LIBERTARIANISM: Go away. What I do with my cows is none of your business.
MARXISM/LENINISM: The proletarian cows unite and overthrow the bourgeoisie cowherds. The egalitarian democratic cow revolutionary state with the cow party as vanguard disintegrate over time. Marx choked on a veggie-burger before he could explain what happens to the use-value, exchange-value and sign-value of bovine leather.
NAZISM: You have two cows. The government takes both and then shoots you.
NEW DEALISM: You have two cows. The government takes both, shoots one, milks the other, and pours the milk down the sink. The government insists there is a giant storage tank where all the milk goes.
OMANISM: You have three cows. They are all healthy and produce good quality milk for sale at the market. Unfortunately, your son discovers that the money he received at the market can be used to buy beer. Your grand expansion plans for a new high-tech farm are put on hold indefinitely.
PACIFISM: You have two cows. They stampede you.
PEROTISM: You have two cows. You aren't allowed to sell the milk to Mexico.
PLATONISM: You have two cows. You look for two other cows to milk.
PLATONISM: You have a reflection of two perfect cows. Their milk tastes like water. You look for two real cows to milk.
POLITICAL CORRECTNESSISM: You are associated with (the concept of "ownership" is a symbol of the phallocentric, warmongering, intolerant past) two differently aged (but no less valuable to society) bovines of nonspecified gender.
QATARISM: You have two cows. They've been sitting there for decades and no one realizes that cows can produce milk. You see what Dubai is doing, you go crazy and start milking the heck out of the cows in the shortest time possible. Then you realize no one wanted the milk in the first place.
REDISTRIBUTIONISM: You have two cows. Everyone should have the same amount of cow. The government takes both cows, cuts them up, and spends more than the cows are worth giving everyone a little piece of cow.
SAUDIISM: You have two cows. Since milking the cow involves nipples, the government decides to ban all cows in public. The only method to milk a cow is to have a cow on one side of a curtain and a guy milking the cow on the other side.
SIMPSONISM: Don't have a cow man!
SOCIALISM: You have two cows. The government takes one of them and gives it to your neighbor.
SOCIALISM -- BUREAUCRATIC: You have two cows. The government takes them and puts them in a barn with everyone else's cows. They are cared for by ex-chicken farmers. You have to take care of the chickens the government took from the chicken farmers. The government gives you as much milk and eggs as the regulations say you should need.
SOCIALISM -- PURE: You have two cows. The government takes them and puts them in a barn with everyone else's cows. You have to take care of all the cows. The government gives you as much milk as you need.
SOCRATIC METHODISM: How many cows do I have? Why?
SURREALISM: You have two aardvarks. The government paints one green and requires you to take harmonica lessons.
TALIBANISM: You have two cows. At first, the government makes them wear burkas, but later shoots them because "they are Hindu religious symbols."
UNITED NATIONISM: You have two cows. France vetoes you from milking them. The United States and Britain veto the cows from milking you. New Zealand abstains.
YEMENISM: You once had a cow. But then it got kidnapped.
Saturday, April 14, 2007
If they ask what it's for, I can say:
"It keeps my banana snug," and wink for extra effect.
Hell, if it were my job to go through people's personal belongings, I'd pray for something bizarre and interesting to break up the monotony.
In this episode, they have to refrain from giggling at people who struggle with the English language, and I could have EASILY refrained from laughing at that for so many reasons, not the least of which is that the average reading skills of the 9th graders I help teach is about the 4th grade level in one class in particular. That includes both kids who are and are not identified as having special needs.
Thursday, April 12, 2007
Student 2 just saw me in the hallway just now, glared and hissed "Five-oh". It's their nickname for cops.
Great. I thought I was having a hard time with them before, now it's going to be hell on earth. If you don't see any more posts from me, you'll know I got shanked by some thug on the way to my car!
It's a shame Henson isn't hiring right now...
In looking at their behind-the-scenes photos, I've now learned there are two organizations on Earth that must be fun to work every day... South Park studio and any Sesame/Henson/Muppet related set-up.
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
Saturday, April 07, 2007
When I started doing volunteer work with individuals with disabilities, I decided to get my start while I was on summer vacation in Britain. I was 14 and decided I'd best ease into it by beginning in a country that had better facilities than I was likely to see back home in the Middle East. I spent two or three days a week helping young adults with disabilities spend their day at the youth center designed for socialization for the handicapped. I mainly spent my time with two fantastic young woman, both of whom made use of wheelchairs.
Shantha desperately wanted children, but admitted that her disability would make it unlikely since she'd had a number of miscarriages. She had made a pair of bootees and often kept them in her pocket. She was almost blind as her vision had deteriorated over the years, but she told me she still remembered what colors looked like, especially when she dreamed. She would often pretend she could see, out of politeness or denial, I'm not sure which, and would remark how pretty people looked or how adorable their children were. She always insisted on "seeing" photos so I learned to make sure she picked them up the right way and I commented on what I could see as though I was supplementing and explaining what she could see rather than blatantly describing them as though she was blind. She seemed to like that.
Sara's disability left her rather like Daniel Day Lewis in My Left Foot, but it was her right foot that she had more control over. Unlike his character though, she was unable to speak and only made guttural sounds or her own form of laughter which sounded like she was gasping for breath.
When I first met Sara, she was lying on the floor with a computer monitor laid a few feet from her face. A keyboard lay under her right foot and it was a regular keyboard, which made her skill even more impressive. Given her very limited control over her body and very spastic movements, it was an enormous feat (no pun intended) for her to type out her sentences, but she persevered and did it anyway. Her foot would waver in the air then come crashing down abruptly. If she hit the wrong key, she was deft at sweeping her foot to the backspace button and begin the process again.
She would also use her feet to sign out letters of the British Sign Language alphabet (BSL), so on my second day there I took off my shoes and tried my best to adapt my shaky, self-taught alphabet to my feet. I had always thought BSL was so impractical because so many of the signs rely on both hands, but it suited Sara just fine because it's easier to form shapes with two feet rather than just one.
She had an IQ of 140, which is apparently what mine is if I'm to believe the online IQ test I took. (Feel free to make use of your own sense of humor here and laugh at my expense). Also like me, she had a fantastically sick sense of humor. She realized just how dreadfully incapable she looked, strapped into her huge wheelchair that provided support to just about every part of her, how her noises did little to betray her intelligence, and how her spastic jerks made her look as though her inability to control her body may extend to her ability to control her mind... Which made it perfect for her to play practical jokes on people who didn't know her!
To permit her communication with us, her right leg was left free of restraint on her wheelchair when we went on outings. She made full use of that by kicking strangers in the ass and then doing her best drooling and grunting expressions she could make to get away with it. The said stranger would initially turn around in anger, see and hear her then look uncomfortable and maybe smile then move away. That girl laughed every single time. It never got old for me either!
Thursday, April 05, 2007
Okay, so it may not bring about world peace, and all the kids are girls when the boys are the ones who constitute most of the violent actions and need to be the ones involved in bridge-building as opposed to blowing up or seizing and occupying, but it's a start and it's the thought that counts.
The video was sent to me by a fabulous friend of mine who happens to be Jewish and knows I get all teary eyed and girly over stuff like this!
Wednesday, April 04, 2007
The first lady was a rather genial older lady who had been teaching for thirty years and joked about keeping wine coolers in the fridge in the classroom. Funnily enough, she wasn't really joking! Being the small world that is is, she happened to recognize the name of the co-operating teacher I was to go to next.
"Oh wow... Mrs. So and So. Heh! You're going to have an interesting time."
"What..? What does that mean? Is she terrible?"
"No, no, not at all... Heheheheh... Do call me and tell me how it goes, promise?"
Not a very encouraging exchange.
Days later, I began my next appointment with my second co-operating teacher, feeling a little nervous but excited at the prospect of teaching at her school. It's a school for creative and performing arts and I knew I'd be excited to hear strains of my favorite musicals down one hall and the barking of dramatic Shakespeareans lines down another.
Her assistant was an extremely sweet and smiley motherly woman with a trim figure and a stunning blaze of red hair. If she was able to work with this "interesting" woman and maintain her soccer-mom apple-pie demeanour, I'd be fine.
My confidence heightened, I walked into the classroom with a little more pep in my step and I smiled warmly at the older woman behind the desk who had a charming grey neat crop of hair cut into a sharp, almost childlike, bob.
"Hi! I'm Student-TeacherLady! Nice to meet you!" I stuck out my hand. My hand hung there. And hung there, in much of the way that bricks don't as Mr. Addams would put it. My main motive for leaving it there as long as I did was because at first I thought she hadn't seen it. I then noticed with some confusion that the co-operating teacher appeared to be pretending to rifle through the papers that choked her desk. Had I done something wrong? From the corner of my eye, I could tell Mrs. Red Head was feeling as awkward as I was as she pretended not to see.
It turns out the poor lady has Obsessive/Compulsive Disorder and doesn't allow anyone to touch her. I felt dreadful. What a way to start! Had someone simply told me (her ASSISTANT perhaps??) I would have easily avoided the whole situation. Thankfully, it didn't dictate the direction our relationship took. If I had a socially crippling disability or disorder, I would hope that I'd be able to have the strength and objectivity to mock it in front of others to let them know that, yes I'm aware of how stupid it may seem, but it's how I am and if they can find the therapy to fix it and are willing to pay the bills, more power to them.
In light of that, Gordon Ramsay should just give in and admit he has fucking Tourette Syndrome. Fuck. Poop. McDonalds.
1) "Infamy! Infamy! They've all got it in for me!" - Kenneth Williams (Julius Caesar) Carry On Cleo (1964)
2) "He's not the messiah, he's a very naughty boy." - Terry Jones (Brian's Mum) Life Of Brian (1979)
3) Robert Hays (Ted Striker): "Surely you can't be serious." Leslie Nielsen (Rumack): "I am serious... and don't call me Shirley." - Airplane (1980)
4) "Remember you're fighting for this woman's honour, which is probably more than she ever did." - Groucho Marx (Rufus T Firefly) Duck Soup (1933)
5) "Don't knock masturbation, it's sex with someone I love." - Woody Allen, (Alvy Singer) Annie Hall (1977)
Tuesday, April 03, 2007
Hopefully she at least won't do the first two things, but I am finding it harder and harder to fight the instinct to teach.
Being the frighteningly oppressive and pushy teacher-mum that I am, I've been showing her the letters of the alphabet on the foam play mat I bought for her when she was a fetus.
"Duh, this is duh." I figure teaching her the sounds of the letters might be easier than the names. She chews on the purple letter D and drools onto the mat. Ah well, it's one way to explore a letter.
"Duh!" she echoed one day. I light up.
"This one is duh, say duh again!"
It's not long before I can ask for "duh" and she pulls it out of the mat and hands it to me. I have a genius child. A teacher's dream come true. This one won't be eating paste, or asking if Apollo 13 is set in space...
Time and again, she is able to retrieve "duh" every time I ask for it. At 10 months old, she has shown me that reading books to her from birth has not been for nought, that teachers really do make good parents.
"Okay Midget, get duh for me again!"
She grabs the letter B.
"Duh!" she announces. She then wanders away unsteadily saying "duh, duh, duh." Apparently, the letter F also makes the sound "duh".
We took her to the zoo: "Duh!" she named every single animal.
It didn't take me long to realize I didn't give a shit that she can't tell me consistently which letter is D at 11 months old because she's a happy, beautiful, healthy baby and I love her so much it hurts (especially when she hands me a book into my EYE) and she'll learn in her own damn time, thank you very much.
And anyway, we all know that in this world, it's good looks that count, so even if she never learns to read, she's set for life ;)