It sure feels like it.  Today it was a 81 degrees and uncomfortably humid.  Bees and wasps alike were buzzing outside and around our deck.  And of course, abbu had fired up the grill for a family BBQ.

A puhpo of mine came into town this weekend from Jersey and she requested that abbu barbeque.  So he planned a menu filled with tikkah and kabobs.  But I was uninterested from the sound of all that.  I interjected yesterday and demanded there be hotdogs and hamburgers!  As much as we barbeque throughout the summer, burgers and hotdogs, in my opinion, don’t get enough grill time.  We usually have steak, chicken tikkah and kabobs on heavy rotation.

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Shocking, as it is to read the above statement, it is true! I am going to miss these blasted roads in Michigan. Definitely not because of their quality, but because I know them like the back of my hand.

The very fact that I can hit the road and know exactly which direction I’m heading in, which street I’m going to cross, which store is going to come up on the right, which pretty house is on the upcoming corner, which gas station is cheapest, which highway exit I should take, how to avoid traffic, what is a better construction detour is something that I think I may have taken for granted.

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I’m another week closer to my wedding, and I just finished up having my first pre-wedding party.  On Saturday my mom invited her closest friends over to the house to listen to a short talk (dars) on the etiquettes of dealing with in-laws and other new relationships post-marriage.  It was a lot of fun to have everyone come over and get into the wedding mood.  If I wasn’t sure I was getting married in just a few weeks before the party, I definitely know it now after the party.

This is primarily because everyone and their mother kept referring to me as the dulhan (bride).  They kept asking me if the dulhan was excited, or if the dulhan was nervous, or if the dulhan was prepared for leaving, or if the dulhan was happy, etc.  After a while it became kind of… annoying.  First of all, it’s weird to ask me questions in the third person.  Second of all, I don’t like being called the dulhan!

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Ever since it became an “option” in middle school, all the way through my collegiate years, cheating has made me sick to my stomach.  I *hate* cheating.  I think it is a sorry and pathetic habit to have and hide.  I’ve always felt it was better to fail with honor than pass by cheating

I have a few students, unfortunatley, that are cheating right under my nose and I can’t catch them so they keep slipping by.  Sometimes when I grade their papers I want to pull out my hair and start screaming because I’ll see all the wrong work and then the right answer amidst a mess of numbers.  The work is not leading to this correct answer, so I have to wonder HOW DID YOU GET IT?? 

This is coming from the same students that turn in their homework right on top of the “smart” friend’s homework and it looks almost IDENTICAL to their friend’s.  I mean line-for-line, mistake-for-mistake, the EXACT same!! 

I’ve threatened to fail them, I’ve tried to emphasize the honor system, I’ve even tried the fear of God, but NOTHING is getting through to them.  Cheating is an addiction that is too hard to let go off. 

Yuck, ickh, gross.  Cheating is a shame for all students!  Bleckh!

I always have hated cheating, and I always will.

Okay, that above title is a major over statement, BUT there is some truth to it. I may not be a die-hard fan of any one specific Michigan sports team, BUT, I am a fan of Michigan sports, in general. And enough of a fan to miss being around it when I leave here.

First there was Michigan basketball in the early 90s. You know what I’m talking about.

The Fab Five

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