1. Shirts with a combo of words or phrases that mean absolutely nothing. Or that, in this case, are simply inaccurate but very funny.
2. This is how my students think my name is spelled. (Nothing has changed since I was little, right Mom and Dad?!) At least they're on track phonetically...sort of. :)
3. Brad Pitt is on the sign for the men's bathroom at school. This has made me laugh since the first day of school, and I only got around to sneaking a picture of it today.
4. Sitting at the dining room table last night, we laughed about how much our lives have changed. This time last year, I was hunched over the dining room table grading tests and entering grades an answering frantic parent emails ("Why did Johnny get a ZERO on his homework grade? I KNOW HE TURNED IT IN!") until 11PM or later. John was commuting and programming, persevering through my anxious insanity and studying (computer) languages like Python and Ruby in his down time. Now, we're sitting in our small apartment, discussing how to best cut out pumpkins and ghosts in class the next day, and comparing games we played in P.E. ("Did you play the rope down your pants game today?" True story.). We've been laughing a lot, as you can probably imagine. It's so nice to share very similar jobs and to be able to relate to each other in a new and different way this year.
5. Unfortunately, I don't have a photo for this one. The last thing that makes me laugh is getting my hair cut in Spain. Today I braved the hair cutting experience once again. Considering that three years ago, a man cut my hair (layers, bangs, everything) with an electric razor and I got one of the worst haircuts of my life, I'm kind of surprised that I have ever wandered into a Spanish salon again. Today I did (after a few good experiences post-electric razor), and what made me laugh was that the stylist went Edward Scissorhands on me and was hacking away at my hair (which turned out alright!), light brown strands flying everywhere. Somehow, she still imbued in me a sense of confidence. At the end of the cut, a different stylist came to dry my hair and style it, but then the original stylist returned. They both went at my hair with big round brushes and two dryers, one on each side of me. And these women were far from gentle; I was being assaulted from both sides. But my hair looked good, so I was able to laugh it off (in my head, of course), and had a good story to tell John at the end of the day.