It's All Just Part of My Charm

[copied from dland]

Given my recent heart attack lunacy, I was going to spare you all this one, but bluesleepy has inspired me to share. Just to give you a nice, well-rounded picture of the wonder that is me.

So I posted yesterday's entry; I think I wrote something about not having heard yet from either R or the Sibs, and that they would probably call at the same time. This is not what happened. I wasn't worried about getting my sister on the phone because her phone doesn't work sometimes, and other times she just doesn't answer the phone, and anyway, she has a husband who sticks to her like velcro so I knew that wherever she was, he was with her.

But R often calls when she's walking home from the train around 6.25, or else a half hour later if she gets the later train. Not every day, but I hadn't talked to her on Thursday because we both had dinner plans, so I figured Friday for sure, since she'd also be telling me when she was coming by this weekend to do her laundry visit with us. Now, she has also said to me in the past, You know, you can call me, too, so at about 7.20, I called.

The phone didn't ring; it went right to the voice mail. Which means that it was turned off. R never turns her phone off.

Before my mind even had the chance to gear up the worry machine on the particulars of this, I felt the adrenaline surge that tells me that my blood pressure is going up. This is something like what you would feel if you knew your child was playing outside in the front yard and you heard a loud squeal of tires and the crash of metal. Your body would switch into super-emergency mode before you even knew if your child was involved, before you knew if it was even necessary.

I felt no chest pain here, btw, and if I was going to have a heart attack this week, that would have done it, so I'm pretty sure I'm okay there. I also realized immediately that this is exactly the situation my blood pressure med is designed to handle, so I knew it would kick in any minute and I would be okay.

This is not an actual panic attack. It's just my body's total over-reaction to something that was in itself not threatening to my child, but that I perceived it to be. This is part of the intense-worrying thing that must have come to me in my DNA. I'm sure I've told this before: when I was a kid, I was forbidden to ride my bicycle when my grandfather was visiting because he could not get past the terrible fear that it would somehow maim or kill me. Nevertheless, I did once, and my mother found him standing in a closet, shifting nervously from foot to foot, waiting until I got home. So this is what I come from.

Anyway, despite my absolute certainty that R had been kidnapped and worse and her cell phone thrown by her captors into the Hudson River and that I would never see her again and I didn't even know her roommate's cell phone number to call and ask if she had heard from her ... breathe ... I decided that she had probably gone out for a drink with some people from work and had to turn her phone off for some reason. Yeah, that's the ticket. She's just coming home late.

She called about 7.50, assuming I might be worried because I hadn't heard from her yet. (Yes, I have extremely perceptive children.) It was the last day for one of the women in her office, so they took her out for a drink. She didn't hear the phone ring or even see a missed call, so there must have been no reception where she was. She was already at Penn Station now, waiting for her train.

So yeah, irrational fear, physical reaction, all that stuff. C'est moi.

(I got my sister after that, too. In case you were wondering.)

R did come by briefly today, got her laundry done, and visited a bit, but mostly she was on the run. Other than the obligatory Saturday morning run to the cleaners/pharmacy/supermarket, I've been home. Got my own laundries all done and put away, bills paid, desk straightened up a bit. Catching up on some TV now.

I recorded She's the Man, which R told me to watch because I've never seen Twelfth Night, which this is a modernized version of. The high school drama club is doing Twelfth Night next fall, and I'm looking forward to it. I love me some good Shakespeare.

And now, time for a little bit of dinner.

WATCHING THE RICHES :: ENTRY #1418

So Far, So Good

[copied from dland]

No cat poop or cat barf anywhere when I got home, so that makes it a good day. TMI, sorry, but it's important here at this end.

Had a very stupid day at school which looked like it was going to be awful and turned out okay. Even so, first thing in the morning, I promised myself a treat for enduring it, so I went to the mall after school and got a new make-up brush and a bottle of skin cleanser. Yes, that was my big treat, but I did have to go to Sephora for it.

I was also going to treat myself to a new denim jacket, as I couldn't find my old one and anyway, I didn't think I could quite fit in it even if I did. But Old Navy only had stupid looking little cropped ones -- who looks good in that? and the men's sizes didn't look right on me at either Old Navy or the Gap. I was going to get a recipe/nutrition program for the computer, but selection is limited when you have a Mac, and I didn't like the one at the Apple Store. So I trotted off home with my little Sephora bag, stopping at Shop Rite for a few essentials but not my whole list. Good choice.

By the time I got home, I was wiped out. I ventured into the basement -- have you ever heard of the Collyer brothers? and amazingly, my denim jacket was right where I could find it, and it fit! (I can't button it, but I think I could only ever do that the day I bought it, maybe.) I took a little nap, and here I am.

My dinner last night with the Chum and the Other Chai was very nice. As always, the Other Chai takes the floor and talks and talks and talks and all you have to do is listen. She's actually quite entertaining to be around, once you get past her always dominating the conversation. It's just the way she is. It's not as if she's always talking about herself or her kid being so great or anything. She does do that some, but she happens to be a world-class teacher and she's rightfully proud of that; otherwise, she can be very self-deprecating and wickedly funny. I see her every day, of course, and the Chum every month or so, and the O.C. made some comment about me and how I look so good and teasing me about wearing make-up now (I always did, but apparently not well) and only then did the Chum say anything at all about the fact that I look completely different than I used to, and how great I looked. Thanks very much, but it came out a little odd, I don't know why. Not bad-odd, just odd. I gushed for a moment or two about my new make-up obsession, and the Chum said Oh, she would never use powders; she likes to custom-mix the colors of her cream make-up. I did not say in astonishment, You WEAR make-up? because turnabout is not always fair play, but seriously. I thought she wore mascara and lipstick. And anyway, if you can mix creams, you can mix powders. She is an artist, after all.

Oy, enough of that. Or, in Yiddish, ganug!

Meantime, K is in DC, the Hubs is at his customory Friday-after-work watering hole, and R has not been heard from this evening. Nor has the Sibs, so things are quiet here. I'm guessing that the Sibs and R will call at the same moment.

My old hearing aids certainly suck. Can't wait to get the new ones back on Monday.

WATCHING THE SIMPSONS :: ENTRY #1417

A Debatable Day

[copied from dland]

Today was the day of the annual Debate Tournament that our school hosts, which means we were descended upon by rude and arrogant children from six or seven other schools. As always, our own students were lovely and polite and nicely behaved. The visitors and their faculty advisors are always awful, and it's traditional to use the school library as the headquarters for all the roaming debaters, so there we were. The only good thing is that because the new library is a bit more spread out, they weren't right on top of my desk. But annoying just the same. Two of them were actually picked up by our school security guards for breaking some rather significant rules, not to mention a law. The noise, most of the time, was, if you'll pardon the expression, deafening. (They don't debate in the library, just use it as their base of operations.)

In other news, K is, as I type, on the train bound for DC. YAY! I know she'll have a great weekend, and I'm very glad that nothing got in the way of her going this time. And ...

when I got home, it took me minutes ... minutes! to tidy up the general chaos that follows her around the house. She left stuff everywhere, as she does. Opened mail on the kitchen table. The plastic ring off her Snapple caps, there were three of them on the coffee table. Et cetera. She's a lovely girl, but she lacks the gene that tells you when it's time to pick up the clutter. I myself didn't develop it until I was about 19, and R at the same age, but K is 23, so I guess this may be a permanent thing for her. Ah well.

And I'm off in a few minutes to have dinner with the Chum and the Other Chai. The latter of whom is so odd, really. As I was leaving her company at the end of lunch today, I reminded her "5.30, Applebee's" and she said to the person sitting next to her, someone new that the Chum doesn't even know, "Oh, we're going out to dinner, wanna come?" Uh ... This is supposed to be a rare get-together for 30+ year friends. I'm sure the girl declined, but wasn't that weird? Anyway, it's the Chum and I who are having dinner and invited the Other Chai to join us. Which makes it even weirder.

Okay, time to post and go.

WATCHING FRIENDS :: ENTRY #1416

Normal Is What's Normal For You

[copied from dland]

I'm back to normal, whatever that is for me. I feel tip-top, for me. I slept somewhat better last night, and have not had a re-occurence of the panic-sparking problem of yesterday. (Was that only yesterday?)

My current peeve of the moment is either grammatical or a matter of intellectual snobbery; I'm not sure which. For one, I've been listening to these Grammar Girl podcasts every morning while I walk, and I generally agree with her traditional stance on most things grammatical. (Sometimes it's all I can do to keep from walking through the school hallways and raising my fist and saying "Yes! Yes!" because I Am A Grammar Nerd.) Anyway, then I drop in over at the WW message boards, which yes, I'm still reading despite my insane experience there last week, but they've changed and are much better, however ...

They are mostly morons over there.

I'm sorry. That wasn't nice and was all kinds of insensitive and -- I'm sure -- politically incorrect to say for some reason or another. And I know that these are message boards and not academic treatises, and that typos and spelling and capitalization and even bad punctuation are common and to be expected. But here's the one that got me. Regarding a certain kind of food, someone wrote:

I have cut them out all together and walla!!...back to losing again.

It took me a minute. Then another one. And then I said it out loud: walla! Holy freaking crap. Voila. (I can't type accents in with the program I use to type my entries.)

Is it just me? Am I being a word snob? You can tell me. I can take it.

Here's an odd bit of information. That project that I'm doing with the history classes, the one where they have to write their autobiography in website form and link it to other historical sites, I got the first of their mini-assignments in today to grade. What they had to do is use a graphic organizer called a web and use it to show the relationships between themselves and members of their family, or places they've lived, and so on. This would be the place to show, for example, Grandpa, and list under his name Was in WW II, or something like that.

So I'm reading one of the last ones, and I glance up at Grandpa (fought in WW II) and above that, for great-grandpa, it says William, and listed under William, it says Ran for president and Scopes Trial. And I look at the last name of the kid whose web it is and her last name is Bryan! I don't know if she's for real or not, or just using the coincidence of the names and making it up, but I wrote on her paper: WOW! William Jennings Bryan was your great-grandfather? Because how cool would that be? She would win the prize for the best personal link ever in all the time I've been doing this project.

Today's Good News/Bad News is that the audiologist knows why my new hearing aid keeps turning itself off (the good), and that the problem is mechanical within the device itself, and not the programming, and he has to send it back to the company to have a teeny tiny little part replaced (the bad). So I had to leave it with him, and he think it will be back Monday morning, and until then, I'm wearing my old hearing aids. I am sad. :( But I'll be very happy if this fixes them and it works and it's only a few days untl Monday. So I am not devastated/sad. Just a wee bit deafer for now.

And now I'm off to the dryer, as Boo had a bad Boo night last night and I was up and down the stairs with blankets and towels and things that he was pooping on, poor little thing, and he seems fine today, but I have the last of the things in the dryer to bring up. Best get on that.

P.S. Old-timers will recall that "Normal is what's normal for you" was the tagline of a laxative commercial that was shown endlessly in the 60's.

WATCHING ELLEN :: ENTRY #1415

A Bit of Further Explanation

[copied from dland]

My earlier entry today, which you would need to read for this one to make sense, is here.

I am okay.

Really, I am. Remember, this is me, the one who is famous for going to the emergency room or the doctor even when I think nothing is wrong because somehow, I know that I should, and it turns out to be appendicitis or a broken leg or something. I actually have a very good track record for pursuing what I think are hypochondriacal concerns and getting appropriate medical attention.

Thank you, New Mary (and leave me a link so I can read you); you are 100% right that women's heart attack symptoms are often not men's symptoms. My problem is that I know that, which is why I was concerned about the pains I was feeling. I know that women often don't experience the crushing chest pain that men do (although both my grandmothers did), and what to look for. I am on the alert. But I also know that going to the emergency room if you are still conscious and are not carrying one of your limbs in a paper bag means that you will not be seen forever and ever, and the stress of that alone could kill me.

I will indeed see the doctor next week, or sooner, if necessary. I am not shy about having doctors tell me that there is after all nothing wrong with me. My recently retired and beloved doctor made it clear that I was to call him if I ever suspected anything and he would be happy to spend his time checking me out and then telling me nothing was wrong. I am conditioned, and will do the same with my new doctor.

(The SCM, btw, has absolutely no sense of when he should see a doctor, and has actually in the past called me on a weekend and described symptoms and asked me what he should do. This is how he found out he had broken a couple of ribs; I told him to go.)

At the moment, it seems to be much better than it was. I took a brief nap, disturbed by the phone after only a half hour, and it hasn't troubled me since then. I think it's more positional than anything, although I was aware of it at one point when I woke up during the night last night, so I didn't think that would help. But it seems to have. I just had some dinner and so far, so good.

Dear LA, I actually have been considering myself that it is somehow related to the bra I'm wearing (which I haven't worn in a while), but since it bothered me during the night, I wasn't sure. I'll gather more evidence on that one tomorrow.

Really, I just needed to say somewhere I think I'm having a heart attack! without anyone shoving me into a car and rushing me to a doctor. The Hubs, who has not himself been to a doctor in more than 25 years, has no qualms at all about getting me to an emergency room ASAP, and as I said, I ain't in the mood for that. So I'm not mentioning it to him just yet. (And anyway, he's coming home late tonight.) I feel pretty good right now.

However, as Bartles and Jaymes used to say, Thank you for your support. You guys are the best, as always. Mwah.

WATCHING REBA :: ENTRY #1414

They'll All Be Sorry When I'm Gone

[copied from dland]

(I'm not going anywhere.)

I'm all into self-pity mode here, and the chest pain just keeps making me think that when I have my heart attack next week (or at whatever time is convenient for me), then all the morons where I work will realize that they have done me wrong and will feel remorse and will apologize to me when I come back to work all healthy-like.

Yeah.

Did I even mention this part of the story yesterday? (I'm writing at work, so I can't check my diary to see what I wrote.) At the stupid faculty meeting, we were working in departmental groups -- the SCM and I were dumped in with another department -- and the new VP strolled by and I mentioned that our "group" answers might make more sense if the SCM and I submitted as our own group. She said no, we should be part of the larger group, even though I pointed out that we don't teach the same thing or in the same way. Anyway, I told her, the chairman of the project for our group was sitting at the other end of the table in a very noisy room, and I couldn't hear anything he said, so I didn't expect to be able to participate much.

And as she breezed off to monitor the next table, she gave me this advice: "Talk louder!"

I almost exploded. And I replied, in the loudest voice I could muster: "I CAN TALK LOUD. I'M DEAF!"

The sad truth is, if I even have a heart attack, when I come back to school, this clueless babe will say to me, if she says anything, Oh, were you out?

Okay, here's news from the heart attack front.

I don't mean to alarm anyone, because I'm not really alarmed or changing my life or even going to see a doctor, but I do think it could be possible that I am having a small heart attack, or at least some sort of heart incident. I feel fine except for this intermittent chest pain, which is not that bad, it's just there. It almost feels like constant heartburn, but nothing is making it go away. (Although it does come and go.) It's also possible that there's some connection to why I'm so tired and lethargic all the time.

I am not telling anyone but you. Anyone in my 3D world would make me go to the doctor, or worse, the hospital, and I am not doing that. Yet. For one, I am fully functional, and only have this little pain and it is not getting in the way of anything I'm doing or need to do. (I'm still walking for 15 - 20 minutes around the school in the morning; I just don't go up any steps.) For another ... okay, here it is. K is finally getting to go away this weekend. She's planned a much, much better trip to DC than the one that was canceled two weeks ago because of the snow. She's going Thursday to Monday, staying in a hotel (one of her friends is staying with her for a night or two), and seeing way more of her DC friends than she would have last time. And the weather should be beautiful. And she's not taking the train either way in the dark, which means I feel comfortable with her driving herself back and forth from the station here in NJ and I don't have to drop her off or pick her up. And she totally needs this vacation and I am totally paying for it, which is another whole issue, but I want her to have this. And if I have a damn heart attack, she won't go, or will go and have a terrible time, or will go and have to come back early.

If this all hasn't gone away by next week, I'll go to the doctor. Promise. I'm sure it's all a figment of my imagination anyway. Here, I made a list:

1. I have stopped smoking.
2. My diet is

   1. low fat
   
   
   2. low calorie
   
   
   3. low sodium
   
   
   4. high fiber
   
   
   5. whole grain
   
   
   6. full of fruit and vegetables

3. I am losing weight.
4. I have lowered my cholesterol, and take cholesterol meds.
5. I take two blood pressure meds.
6. I walk 15 - 20 minutes 5 or 6 days a week.
7. I have gastric reflux but take meds for it.

So there you go. No heart attacks for me, right? Despite the specters of my father and three of my grandparents hovering around me, like the final dueling scene in The Goblet of Fire? But they were all much older before they had their heart attacks and/or strokes, in their 60s at least, and one in her 80s. So we're settled. No heart attacks for me. Not yet, anyway.

It's funny, isn't it; if I didn't have you all to vent to, I'd be keeping this totally to myself and all bottled up, and who knows what effect that could have?

Hours pass.

Okay, I wrote that whole long thing at school, and I'm home now. No change in the chest pain, really, but I think I'm less committed to the having-a-heart-attack thing. Again, I will go to the doctor next week if it hasn't gone away, but whatever it is, clearly it is not getting worse, and it's mostly just annoying. The only real effect it's had on me is that I decided not to have hot dogs for dinner, because hot dog indigestion on top of whatever this is would just be too much.

I slept weirdly last night, so maybe I'm just tired. Oh, I'm always tired, you know what I mean. I'm going to lie down for a nap before I even open the new eye shadows I got in the mail.

WATCHING DR. PHIL :: ENTRY #1413

The Dreaded B.O.

[copied from dland]

Yes, I have it, the dreaded B.O., at least a mild case of it. Oh, in teacher-world, B.O. stands for

BURN OUT.

I don't know if burn out is inevitable, like senioritis in kids just a few months short of graduation, but it's a very real and unpleasant condition that will befall some people after many years of teaching. Many people. Most people. I guess it depends on where you are and what your circumstances are.

Today I was feeling very burned out. I actually told the main secretary in the office that after 30 years, I don't want to hear anyone else say that we don't do anything in the library. She said Oh, I can't control what people say. (She is so fucking stupid.) I agreed with her on that, and said that I just don't want to hear it anymore. In other words, I want her to stop saying it to me. Whatever. That, along with another incredibly rude secretary, and I went in to talk to the principal and said I was tired of being treated with disrespect. He looked all shocked, and I had to assure him that I didn't mean by him! But that I was tired of it by the office staff. He was very nice, and I think was going to speak to the other rude secretary, or have her spoken to.

Then, at the meeting after school, I was talking to another veteran teacher about this exercise they gave us to do -- write down 5 strategies for getting kids to learn in class, or some such bullshit -- and we were laughing about how we don't even think about that anymore, we just do it; it's ingrained in us now, and then after the meeting, when all the administrators had left, one of the teachers that I think of as a nice kid -- she must be 35 if she's a day -- stood up and asked us to please all work together because she loves what she does and it's so hard to still love it, and ... oh my. It's that first rush of B.O. that we've all been through, the one when we know we love teaching and why does it make me so unhappy? And won't somebody please help me? And here she was, this great kid and fabulous teacher, having the sense and the guts to ask us all to help. I was very impressed by her and quite sad that she's hit this wall, and sad too that I feel so far past the wall that I have no help to offer her. I don't believe I can make the sadness go away, not for me, at least; I only want it to stop.

I'll be better tomorrow. I don't wake up and dread going to work. I don't hate it until something bad happens, or some idiocy surrounding the new library annoys the crap out of me. I'm okay. Just venting.

In other news, I had lobster for dinner, so that was nice. But now I'm either having indigestion or a heart attack, I don't know which. Not caused by the lobster, since I actually had it on and off all afternoon. (Although the whole school thing did not make me tense or raise my blood pressure; I'm okay there.) So it's indigestion, just keeps coming back, but the pain is not at all intense. I'm just ... you know. Me.

Okay. 71 degrees tomorrow, so they say, so it's t-shirt and button-down overshirt weather for me. Going to take that out now, and then get my lunch together for tomorrow. The more I get done tonight, the more time for hair and make-up in the morning. Yeah. Still me. Really.

WATCHING SOME MOVIE :: ENTRY #1412

Brain Dump

[copied from dland]

Just a bunch of random shit today, some serious, some not so much.

Request: If you know, personally, any individual ever who has contracted a venereal disease from a toilet seat, I want you to comment me right now and tell me who it was. I'm just checking.

A bit more on movies. Catsoul (who should send me a password, please, oldewoman AT gmail.com) asked if I had seen the Lake House -- I haven't -- and mentioned seeing Romeo and Juliet in the theatre. As did I. I was in the eleventh grade, so that's 16 or 17, 1969-70, and a friend and I went into the city to see it as it hadn't come out to the 'burbs yet. It was in this relatively high-class theatre right next to the Plaza Hotel. The entire audience was teenage girls, all dressed up for our first legitimate view of A BOY'S BEHIND. Which we saw, and were amazed, but I digress. What I remember most about seeing R & J that day is that when something happened that would make you sigh, every single girl in the theatre sighed in complete unison, like it was just one single heart breaking. The first time it happened, it was followed by a nervous giggle, in unison, so it was strange while we were doing it, but for the rest of the movie we just sighed and wept as one and let it go. And I love that movie as well, to this very day, and the swelling of the music gets to me, too.

I have officially lost 11.2 pounds! I am so psyched. I rewarded myself with a latte -- decaf skim -- and ... drumroll, please .... jeans. Jeans a size smaller. I bought a new pair.

Last night I took out my size L jeans (as opposed to the XL I've been wearing for a while) and tried them on this morning. Two pair are ripped at the knee; why did I keep those? Two pair are Old Navy; I had stopped wearing those even when they fit, because I didn't like the cut. Why did I keep those? The last two were the right size, but the length was Ankle, as opposed Regular, which I wear now. So they would show too much sock over my crocs, and that's just tacky. Plus, they were also very worn. Why am I keeping those? So I bought one new pair. I don't know if I can wear them just yet, but they're an incentive for now. Maybe next week.

Ooh, more movies. (I just read boxx's answers.) I saw A Hard Day's Night at a drive-in, too, and I also endured Clifford with K and a little friend. Did I have those last two questions? I don't remember them. My favorite foreign film is the original La Cage Aux Folles. My favorite documentary ... hmmm, not sure on that one. And cosmic, I cried at ET too! I love that movie!

I was going to go into something serious, but I guess I'll save it for another day. Doesn't seem to fit.

Good weekend, all.

WATCHING BILL MAHER ON DVR :: ENTRY #1411

Oooh, Movies

[copied from dland]

Meme courtesy of The Red Nose. This one is making me work.

1. Name a movie that you have seen more than 10 times.

The first one that comes to mind is The Man Who Shot Liberty Valence, which, along with Casablanca, the Hubs and I have seen dozens of times each. Then there are the ones I saw with the girls, like Empire Records or Troop Beverly Hills. Oh wait, strike all that. Probably the movie I've seen more times than any other is Back to the Future. But I watch most movies multiple times.

2. Name a movie that you've seen multiple times in the theater.

An intriguing question. I've seen every Harry Potter movie at least twice in a theater, and usually the second time is at the IMAX.

3. Name an actor that would make you more inclined to see a movie.

Hmm, not sure. A current actor ... not sure.

4. Name an actor that would make you less likely to see a movie.

Tom Cruise. And Arnold Schwarzenegger. If you think he's done making movies ...

5. Name a movie that you can and do quote from.

The In-Laws. "Serpentine!"

6. Name a movie musical that you know all of the lyrics to all of the songs.

Here's two: The Sound of Music. Tommy. But really, any movie made of a Rodgers and Hammerstein stage musical.

7. Name a movie that you have been known to sing along with.

I wouldn't sing in a theater. But I will generally sing along to almost any song in My Fair Lady, because they are so joyful.

8. Name a movie that you would recommend everyone see.

I think anyone who wants to claim cultural literacy should see Gone With the Wind and Casablanca.

9. Name a movie that you own.

I collect DVDs, so I have about 300 movies. The one most recently purchased is For Your Consideration, Christopher Guest's most recent movie, but I haven't watched it yet.

10. Name an actor that launched his/her entertainment career in another medium but who has surprised you with his/her acting chops.

Will Smith. I think he's very talented and a wonderful actor.

11. Have you ever seen a movie in a drive-in? If so, what?

I saw many movies at the drive-in as a kid. The last time I went, I took my oldest nephew to his very first movie, which was Star Wars when he was about three years old, so that's about 30 years ago. (I had already seen it twice in the theater, to answer an earlier question.)

12. Ever made out in a movie?

Actually, I do not think so.

13. Name a movie that you keep meaning to see but just haven't yet gotten around to it.

I really wanted to see The Queen, but I'll wait for the DVD.

14. Ever walked out of a movie?

The first movie I took R to, when she was nearly three, I think, was a re-release of Pinocchio. I had prepared her to be quiet, properly behaved, and so on, and she was PERFECT. Not a peep out of her until halfway through the movie, when she turned to me and said "Okay, let's go." And we did.

15. Name a movie that made you cry in the theater.

Gone With the Wind, of course. I also went to a revival house and saw a double feature of Dark Victory and Now, Voyager -- classic Bette Davis -- and I brought my own box of tissues with me, and needed it, and shared with people around me.

16. Popcorn?

Not for a long time. Thank you, diverticulosis.

17. How often do you go to the movies (as opposed to renting them or watching them at home)?

I almost never ever go to the movies. In recent years, only for Harry Potter, and at most, one more a year. The last non-HP movie I saw in the theater was Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.

18. What's the last movie you saw in the theater?

Oops. See previous question.

19. What's your favorite/preferred genre of movie?

Romantic comedy.

20. What's the first movie you remember seeing in the theater?

I remember seeing Around the World in 80 Days when I was about four.

21. What movie do you wish you had never seen?

The most horrific double feature of all time: Deliverance and A Clockwork Orange.

22. What is the weirdest movie you enjoyed?

La Belle et Le Bete.

23. What is the scariest movie you've seen?

I saw Wait Until Dark from a seat in the front row of the second balcony at Radio City Music Hall. When the guy leaped out of the dark, I almost went over the rail.

24. What is the funniest movie you've seen?

There are too many funny movies, but we often say that the original In-Laws is the funniest movie we've ever seen. I don't know if it is; I enjoy Mel Brooks, Woody Allen, and Christopher Guest, among others. But it's still a good answer.

WATCHING THE SIMPSONS :: ENTRY #1410

Memory Not So Much Serving

[copied from dland]

I forgot to tell you part of the story last night.

So, K says, after we're in the house and I'm all cleaned up, she says "You know, you probably tripped on your crocs."

Well, I suppose this is a possibility, but one I'm going to ignore because I'm going to wear crocs every day of my life from now on unless it's snowing or raining or I have to go to a wedding. I told her that it was probably because of my bad balance, and that I often feel like I'm about to fall when I'm just walking, and really, it's amazing that I don't fall more than I do. Which is all true.

But I think, not why I tripped on the front steps last night. Here's why I tripped. I didn't want to tell her.

I think it was because I couldn't see clearly. About twenty minutes before we'd left the house -- before we'd even decided to go get Wendy's -- I put some ointment in my eye. Ointment in my eye is a real good thing/bad thing to do. About 90% of the time, it resolves the pain and dryness in my eye instantly. But it also creates the illusion that I've just smeared vaseline over the right lens of my glasses. Sometimes this effect is more pronounced than other times; sometimes it's harder or easier to deal with. Last night the ointment settled in a particular part of my eye that seemed to make it affect my depth perception.

Yes. And then I went out and drove a car.

Now, I drive like this all the time. I try to avoid it; for example, if I need it in the morning, I try to wait until I get to school to put it in. I did that today. (And then it turned out I had to go run an errand in my car during first period.) Most of the time, it just makes my eye blurry for things close up, which makes reading and using the computer problematic. Driving is rarely a problem, because everything I need to see is outside of the blurry range. But last night, on my way to Wendy's, I realized that I wasn't able to judge accurately how far away a car was that was coming in my direction. I don't mean cars right near me; I was turning right onto a street and there were cars coming from my left from what seemed to be very far away, but I couldn't really tell how close they were, so I waited for all of them to pass before I turned. Like that.

I think that when I got home, my faulty depth perception caused me to put my foot down in the wrong place on the step, which is what made me fall. Maybe it was the crocs. Maybe it's the age. (Just kidding.) But I think it was my eyes.

So in the name of full disclosure, there you are.

In other news, this is the second Thursday in a row that I woke up convinced that it was Friday, and I can't shake it all day. Once again, I turned off my alarm for the weekend after it went off, and then had to turn it back on for tomorrow. At school, I kept asking the SCM about a certain class coming in, according to my schedule, and each class I asked him about, he had to say No, that's tomorrow. It's Thursday. Every time I remember that I still have to come to work tomorrow, I feel sad.

I'm walking in the morning and listening to the podcasts, which I'm enjoying. So far, I've been listening to Podictionary, which is about word origins, and Grammar Girl, which is about ... duh; thank you to bluesleepy, who suggested Grammar Girl. It's very nice; I walk for 15 to 20 minutes and that's a good minimum goal to strive for, I think. The scale is inching down veeeerrryyy slllllooooooowwwwlllyyyy, but at least it's moving in the right direction. With a little luck and fingers crossed, I may reach my first ten-pounds-lost goal this weekend.

Speaking of which, I am in a jeans quandary. As I've said before, I have jeans in four sizes, which I call small, medium, large, and extra-large. (The actual sizes have numbers, which I am not disclosing.) I am never buying a size larger than the extra-large, which is what I'm wearing now and what I've been wearing since last summer. (I had to buy new ones then, because I had gotten rid of all my extra-large jeans when I lost the weight four years ago.) Now, I do not ever expect to wear the small jeans again; that size was ridiculous, and I'm sure I will never see that low a weight again. But here's my quandary.

I originally had to jump into the extra-large when I gained the weight before I started WW the first time, four years ago, and then as I lost, I kept moving down sizes. That original high weight was ten pounds less than I weigh now, so, 20 pounds less than what I weighed in January, before I started WW again. I'm still wearing the XL, but they're starting to feel loose on me. Not on the waist, where I will probably carry all my weight for as long as I live, but everywhere else, they're a little baggy. But how can I go down a size when I still weigh more than I did when I moved up to this size? I think the L ones would fit, although they'd be as snug around the waist as the XLs were for a long time. (And still are, a little bit.) Oy.

You know what I'd like to do? Re-boot my body and start over. Can I do that?

Turns out that there is a little problem with the hearing aid that the audiologist is looking into, but until there's a cure, the easy fix is to turn it off and essentially re-boot it. Perhaps a dozen times a day. It's really not a big deal, since I don't even have to take it out and it takes all of ten seconds to do it, but it is odd.

Our new library is at the end of a long hallway that is otherwise populated by science classes. The two classrooms closest to us are English/Social Studies, but the rest of them are science. Off and on for the last week, the biology teachers have been doing some experiment which required the kids to run up and down the hall as fast as they can. (Then, presumably, they go back into their classroom and measure something or other, blood pressure, perhaps.) What this means for us is intermittent pounding, like a herd of wildebeests approaching, and the occasional sweetie pie who thinks it's appropriate to end his run by grabbing the top of the library doorway and swinging in, like Tarzan.

At one point today, I stood in the hallway about three feet in front of the library door, just to see if they would stop and turn around farther back, and they did, of course. No one wants to run down an old lady.

Just before the end of the second to last period of the day, I heard the pounding and turned towards the door; I think I'd finally had it and was going to get up and say something, but it was the English teacher, who started to laugh and laugh when she saw my face! And so I did too, of course. She had just pounded down about ten feet from her classroom door, just to see what I would do. It was pretty funny, actually; the noise has been bothering her too all this time, and some of her kids have been doing quiet reading, either in her room or in the library, but it hasn't been very quiet for them.

Well, it's just after 5.00 now, and K should be home from work any minute. She worked a double shift today, so that's a long day on her feet. We've been very good about not eating out this week -- well, I have; she had the infamous Wendy's last night -- so maybe it's a good night for it. I haven't had any fish this week yet, so it's time for that, too. It's either that or Night #3 for the Shepard's Pie, and that's pushing it, even for me.

WATCHING FRIENDS :: ENTRY #1409

I Go Boom

[copied from dland]

Yes, I fell ... again! But nothing serious, really. Let me recap.

I did a bit of food shopping on the way home from school, anticipating K around 5. (She had an interview or something to do for her graduate class.) When I got home, there was a message from her that in fact her thingy was going on until 6. Knowing that I had to go to the audiologist at 7, I figured I would eat some of yesterday's Shepard's Pie and she would eat whatever she could work out. In the meantime, I chopped up a lot of lunch veggies, got the kitchen all tidied up, picked up the day's mandatory cat effluvia, and sat down to breathe for awhile.

At 5, she came home. They told her it would go on until 6 -- it was a Board of Ed. meeting in another district, now that I think of it, not exactly an interview, although she also interviewed people -- and at 4.30 they got up and said Oh, we're done now. So she was home. I told her what I planned for dinner, but I knew she wouldn't want that; she's not opposed to leftovers as such, but doesn't like to eat the same thing two days in a row. (I couldn't care less.) And I had taken for lunch the other thing she had figured on eating for dinner. So I called the MIL for her birthday, and then told K that if she wanted some fast food, I'd take her to get it. We headed out to Wendy's.

Came back with some Wendy's for her, two bags worth, since we got her some lunch for tomorrow, too, and she carried the bags to the house and I had her orange soda. In my left hand. (Insert foreshadowing here.) There are two steps leading up to my front porch, and I somehow missed a beat on the second step. Next thing I knew -- and this always seems to happen in slow motion, doesn't it? -- I was heading down, my left knee hitting squarely on the porch itself (which is essentially the very large top, third, step) and my hand going down to break my fall. That would be my left hand. So I didn't hit the palm of my hand on the step, but rather my fingers curled around the cup of orange soda. Which burst open on contact, spraying the left side of my from about my shoulder up with orange soda.

I just hovered there for a moment, knee hurting, trying to figure out what to do. I think I was trying to figure out how to save the rest of the soda! Finally, I just dropped it and everything else spilled out and splashed, this time over my right hand, and I kind of dragged myself up.

K was, of course, concerned, and I was only afraid that I'd gone and broken the other damn knee. But I didn't feel that kind of pain, although I assumed, correctly as it turned out, that my knee was badly scraped under my jeans. Then I realized, as I pulled myself upright, that something was dripping off my jaw. That's when I got how high the soda had splashed. It was dripping off my ear, too.

My ear! Holy shit! My hearing aid was soaked with orange soda! Now I was pissed off.

I managed to get into the house and drop my keys and jacket on the living room floor while K went out to clean up the mess. I dried off my hearing aid and my ear, and let the little thing lay there to dry for awhile. If I hadn't been going to the audiologist in less than an hour, I would have been much more freaked out.

My knee looks like the knee of the average 8 year old after a day of hearty playing outside and roller skating. It's badly scraped and has a bandaid on it. Other than that, it doesn't really hurt. I'm more concerned about my hand for tomorrow, since I smacked it hard where my arthritis is worst.

I came in, I ate my dinner, I talked to R for a minute on the phone, and then I headed out. I didn't realize until then that my keys were all sticky, and not until I was in the waiting room -- ick -- that it had gotten all over my hair, too. Anyway, Dr. H. gave the hearing aid a good cleaning inside and out, and it should be fine. He tweaked the sound here and there and did a bunch of little things to it. He's very good. My old audiologist can't hold a candle to this guy.

And there you have it, the story of my life between 5 and 8 pm on Wednesday, March 21, 2007.




WATCHING ANTM :: ENTRY #1408

Am I Still Awake?

[copied from dland]

Cannot believe how tired I am today. I think I slept, too, if memory serves. During my first sleeping stage -- when I fall asleep on the couch -- there was a really interesting show on Eleanor Roosevelt on PBS, but as previously mentioned, documentaries tend to put me right out, which is one the things I like about them, actually. But then I have to try to catch them another time, because I only heard half of the information.

I think if I were in college now, I would major in history instead of English. I'm just saying. I like history a lot.

Speaking of which, I did my opening presentations for that unit today in five classes, and it went really well. Even the class that the teacher warned me would be misbehaving was pretty good. I had two classes of juniors and three of sophomores; the sophomores were especially responsive. It was fun, actually, although probably why I'm so tired: on my feet all day and teaching the same full-period lesson five times. I was observed during the second one, which was also fine. I'm observed, you know, by an administrative assistant who was a gym teacher until two years ago. I wonder if he had any idea what I was talking about.

I made Shepherd's Pie tonight, which I hope K will be interested in eating when she gets home from work at 8.15. It wasn't too bad, and more importantly, easy to make, since the only thing I actually had to do was brown the meat and make the instant mashed potatoes. (And open a few cans.) I liked it anyway, and if she doesn't, I guess I'll have leftovers for days.

I'm going to go pick out something to wear tomorrow. And then I'm going to collapse somewhere. My legs really hurt tonight. I walked the building again this morning, but I don't think that's why; me feet hurt as soon as I woke up. This is fun, isn't it?

WATCHING THE SIMPSONS :: ENTRY #1407

Just a Monday. With Snow.

[copied from dland]

No, it didn't snow again, but there is snow everywhere. It will allegedly be gone by the end of the week, according to the nice weather lady on channel 4. I imagine that the streets will be running wet the next few days as it melts. There is just a lot of snow. Generally, if I am home before K, as I am on most Mondays, I park in the driveway first and in the morning I just pull out around her (we have a long one-car wide driveway), but I can't in the snow, so I'm parked on the street and will have to move my car when she gets home from class. I'd rather do that than have to jockey both cars around in the morning in the dark.

I found a variety of podcasts on language and history, and downloaded a bunch of them, which should keep me busy for awhile. As I walked this morning, I listened to several brief casts about the origins of different words, which was enjoyable. I guess I'll vary what I listen to from time to time, but so far, so good.

Call me a skeptic, but what hasn't this guy confessed to recently? I think when he gets to taking the rap for the Lindbergh baby, it's time to stop believing him. Is our administration really so stupid that they believe everything he feeds them? Oh ... wait ....

In other news, and it's a minor complaint, all things considered, I want people to stop asking the SCM questions or making conversation with him in any way. His thing today was The Shoveling! And The Ice! As if no one else had snow to shovel or ice to break up after the storm. My favorite part of the story -- and I heard it several times -- was how it was So Hard to do all that, that at one point he felt faint and had to drape himself over the hood of his car until he felt strong enough to get up and go on. Oh yes, by all means, share that story; it puts you in such a good light. Why would you even tell people that? Why not just say, It got to be too much for me so I went into the house and baked cookies while my wife finished the shoveling. (Which she did, btw. She likes it, and thinks it's good exercise. Which is why she won't let him buy a snow-blower.) Really, he annoys me less now that there's a whole library between us most of the time (in the old one our desks were about six feet apart), but often he is just too strange.

I was also telling Media Girl today about the unit I'm starting tomorrow, which is the one I mentioned a few weeks ago, where the kids write their autobiographies as websites or powerpoint presentations, and must include links to historical events that they are connected to. I start each class off with the story of how I was playing dodgeball when I heard that President Kennedy had been shot, and I do this while bouncing a ball (because it adds a visual element to the story, as they will need to do.) I was telling her about it because she asked me why I had a gym-ball on the shelf behind my desk. Which prompted the SCM to tell us every painstaking detail of his day that same day: where he was, why, how he didn't get along with his father (part of nearly every story, actually), what he did later that day, what he did for the rest of that weekend. Oh.My. Way to kill a moment. Any moment. Well, I have five classes tomorrow, so I guess I won't be seeing that much of him.

K just came home, so I moved my car, and then the MIL called to see if our cats were okay, given the cat-food scare going on. Except for the pooping and the puking, which is normal for them, they're fine. (They don't eat the affected food.) It's been a big day for cat effluvia; I'm only glad it was the Hubs who found the first offering when he got up at 4 am.

And now Dancing With the Stars is on, which I've only seen in bits and pieces before, but there's nothing else on. I have no interest in seeing Heather Mills, whom my sister described as "The Incubus"; as K pointed out, every Baby Boomer hates her because she messed with our eternal imaginary boyfriend. Heh.

WATCHING DANCING WITH THE STARS :: ENTRY #1406

News Flash

[copied from dland]

I cooked a meal. Now my house smells like cabbage -- Mr. and Mrs. Bucket, table for two? -- and I washed about a million dishes and pots and things, but we had the traditional holiday/birthday meal and it was good. And I was good; I had everything, including some soda bread, but a reasonable amount of all of it.

My hearing aids are coming along nicely. Most of the time I'm not even aware of them, which is pretty much what you're going for with these things. But things sound strange when I'm in the car, and when I'm singing along with the music in the car -- oy. I can't even explain it. I'll have to try singing someplace else to see what it sounds like, but since I don't exactly sing in public, I'll have to wait until I'm home along and give it a go.

Otherwise, a quiet day. I did finally get to see all of An Inconvenient Truth; I'd already fallen asleep to it three times, which is why I'm keeping it on the DVR, for occasions when I need to fall asleep and have nothing else to lull me there. It was really quite good. (It's just easy to fall asleep to the sound of one person speaking for a period of time.) I like Gore and I believe him, so that's that. Even if he's not 100% accurate, it seems pretty clear that he's on the right track; our own everyday eyewitness evidence should prove it.

My last task for the evening is to find a daily podcast, about 15 minutes long, that I can listen to while I'm walking the school hallway tomorrow morning at 7.00 am, which is a good time to get my walk in. When I walked Friday morning, the only person I ran into was the head custodian, who said "Doing your laps?" which I was. The building is bigger now, so I can stretch one lap into 15 minutes, which is better than nothing. As you may have guessed, I haven't been to the gym in a few weeks. I'm blaming the weather, and I'm sticking to it.


WATCHING THE WINNER :: ENTRY #1405

It Bears Repeating

[copied from dland]

That my children are very nice people. Not that K isn't being a sweetie pie today, but it's R I want to kiss and hug, and not just because it's her birthday.

Last night, when she and her roommate decided not to drive to Atlantic City in the storm, she said they would just spend the day catching up on TV they'd missed recently, and maybe go out somewhere at night if they felt like it. I suggested that they go to the nice Irish pub that's just a few blocks away from them, and she said maybe they would.

K, meantime, is home and without friends or anything to do. I thought, I guess it really would be too pushy of me to call R and suggest that she include K and have her stay overnight there, so I didn't call. If your mother tells you to do it, how much fun could that be?

But when I got back from ShopRite this morning, R had called and invited K to do exactly that. I am so, so happy. So happy that later on I'm even going to drive K over there, since R was coming over tomorrow anyway, and this way they'll only have one car to worry about, and not have to come back in two. And I get to kiss and hug the birthday girl on her actual birthday.

(26 years ago this minute: the baby was about 7 minutes old, labor was finally over -- so I thought, I forgot about that pesky placenta thing -- but I'd had a spinal so I was feeling no pain and just marveling at this amazing little face I was gazing down at.)

In the Celebrate With Me department, I do appear to have lost two pounds this week. After the scale barely moving (and sometimes the wrong way) for the last three weeks, this is excellent news for me. Hopefully, I'm in the groove now and I'll keep on going. Let's see, if I could lose a pound a week, I'd hit my goal ... in about October. That's not terribly likely, but it's something to shoot for. I'm thinking maybe another tattoo as a present for me when I reach my goal; all I've got to do now is decide on what I really really want and where. It's not like I don't have time.

My bingeing lately has been on crocs. I ordered a pair of open-toed crocs online, since I can't seem to wear flip-flops and sometimes you just need to wear that kind of shoe. Then I saw brown regular crocs at Nordstrom and had to have those. (You realize that these are real shoes, sort of, that cost less than $30 a pair.) But then I really hit it big when I found the elusive Disney crocs online! Disney crocs, how cool is that? I'll post of picture when I get them. They'll probably be the only shoes I ever wear once I have them. (Although the brown and navy crocs, the old ones, will be getting a workout, too.)

Speaking of, I want to wear crocs everyday. Not so easy when you're up to your ankles in snow. Lots and lots of snow out there, folks. And spring only a few days away, technically. This has been a very annoying winter in many ways, and I think to many people. It's crocs time, time to put away sweaters and jackets and all that and wear comfortable clothess. Enough, thank you.

I did get my corned beef this morning, a low sodium one for whatever good that will do. I guess I'll use some of backup points tomorrow.

Okay, I'm off to do an errand or two and then drop K off at R's.


WATCHING HP AND THE GOBLET OF FIRE :: ENTRY #1404

The Most Wonderful Children in the World

[copied from dland]

... are mine. Because ...

K made the decision herself not to go to DC because of the weather. This meant that I did not need to leave work at noon and drive down the Parkway to the train station in this horribly disgusting snow/sleet/slush storm to catch her 2.30 train. She's pretty bummed that she couldn't go, and has good reason to be, but she knows she made the right choice.

R decided as well not to drive to Atlantic City tonight. No car should be on the road that doesn't need to be, and she's got the stomach bug anyway, so she's staying home. What a good kid.

(And just as I was about to bitch about the Hubs and where the hell was he, he walked in. And to my amazement, did not drop his briefcase and go right out again to shovel. He's having dinner like a normal person. Better go check the basement for pods.)

As you might surmise, it is a horribly yucky day of weather out there. And as K has pointed out more than once, yesterday she went out wearing flip-flops. And it creeps me out when it snows after the clocks have changed; I can only remember that happening once or twice before. (Of course, we always changed the clocks weeks later, but you know what I mean.)

In other news, here's a weird turn of events. Stop me if I've mentioned this before, but I don't think I have; it's mostly a today revelation. Even after the adjustment the other night, I was still having trouble with the hearing aid and the telephone. It's very hard to get a phone to fit over an in-the-ear aid without causing all kinds of static and feedback. But this morning I realized that if the aids are set to the right volume, I can always use any phone on my right ear. This is the ear that is 100% cold stone deaf, folks, but the microphone I'm wearing there now is soooooo good that it's actually preferable to use the phone that way. But it's such a disorienting change of a 15 year old habit! I have not held a telephone to my right ear -- or more to the point, with my right hand -- in 15 years. And now that I have to, if I need to write something down while I'm on the phone .... well, I'll figure it out. I just love that I can do it.

You know, and I think I have said this before, a hearing loss becomes very ingrained in you; you lose the sense of what it was like to hear 20/20, as it were. In my dreams, when I'm involved in a conversation with someone, I am always positioned to the right of all the other people so that I can hear them with my left ear. In my dreams! So it's very much a part of me, and getting used to what I hear now is the part of the adjustment that I have to make myself. I don't know if every other hearing aid I've had has been crap or if my hearing has gotten worse, but I seem to be hearing more "new" sounds now than I did with any other new hearing aid. The water rushing in the stainless steel sink is so loud! The sleet on the windows! There was an annoying background noise that I couldn't get rid of, so I kept working on what it might be, and I finally got it a few hours ago: it's my computer. Computers make noise when they're on! Did you all know that? I didn't. Either I didn't have a computer 15 years ago -- okay, I did; I'd already had a Commodore 64 and was on my first PC -- but if they made noise then, I had no memory of it. I didn't need to, until now. That's today's installment of Adventures of the Deaf and Hard of Hearing.

So now I'm in for the duration, which is supposed to be sometime tomorrow morning. I do need to get to the supermarket (since it's a day that ends in y) since I forgot to get bananas yesterday, and now that, surprise! the kids will both be home for dinner on Sunday, it looks like I get to make the corned beef and cabbage after all, presuming I can still find one to buy tomorrow. And yes, tomorrow is the birthday of my firstborn, which has already led to the annual questions, which begin at any random point on the evening of the 15th: What were you doing 26 (this year) years ago right this minute? My answer to K this last time was: I was in fucking labor. Because you know, even after 26 years, you don't forget 36 hours of labor. (Maybe after 36 years, I'll stop bitching about it.)

My other big plan for the weekend consists of trying some new eyeshadow to see if it looks good or makes me look like an escapee from the set of The Addams Family. Maybe if the weather clears up tomorrow afternoon, K will go hang out with R and I'll have some TV time to myself, and I'll watch Stranger Than Fiction, which I got from Blockbuster online about three weeks ago. This no late fee thing is great, but they sure are making their money on me, since it takes me forever to watch one movie.

My feet are cold. Time to burrow.

WATCHING THE SIMPSONS :: ENTRY #1403

Friday

[copied from dland]

Thank god it's ... what? It's not? Are you sure?

Shit.

I have been convinced all day that it was Friday, starting with waking up and turning the alarm totally off, because I don't want it to ring on the weekends. Then I caught on, and it's been all downhill from there.

Okay, maybe not so downhill. For one, I went back to read the WW message boards -- not to revisit yesterday's debacle, just to read today's posts -- and I saw two more innocent questions asked and answered by WW Nazis ripping their writers apart. So it's not just me, there are just some bitches with power issues over there. All done now.

Oh, here's some good news for me I stumbled upon today.

The high point of my day was when a teacher from across the hall asked if she could send seven or eight kids in to read quietly -- uh, yeah -- and they trooped in, signing into the book, and I pointed out to them that we have this lounge furniture over by the window. You would think this was the best thing since sliced bread. There was actually one more kid than there was a seat for, but they just draped themselves over the chairs and sofa and each other and opened their books. (I forget what they were reading; a novel.) They were quiet and concentrating and wonderful. Three of them had earphones in, which I ignored because I don't see why they shouldn't do that if they want to; they were still reading. I wanted to take a picture, but I didn't want to distract them. But it was really neat.

The hearing aids were maybe 85% better today than they have been, but I still need to work on getting the volume at the right levels. But they were much better in lots of important ways; my own voice isn't nasal anymore and I didn't have to take them out when I ate lunch, among others.

Yesterday was like a perfect spring day, and today sucks, only to be outdone by what's coming tomorrow and Saturday. Cold, and the infamous "wintry mix." And of course, both of my kids are going away for the weekend, and traveling in it, and you know how good I am with that. If K can only get to the train tomorrow by about 1:00, all will be well with her; she's going to DC. R is supposed to go to Atlantic City for her birthday, which is a drive of a few hours, but she came home sick from work today a little early, and has important meetings at work tomorrow, so by Saturday, she may be content to lie on the couch with a few good DVDs. At least she has better sense than to drive to A.C. tomorrow night in a storm. And K really really needs this weekend away, so I hope she gets to go. (And if she doesn't, she certainly won't be pleasant at home all weekend.)

I'm very sleepy now, but since it's just a little after 5:00, I guess I can't go to sleep yet.


WATCHING FRIENDS :: ENTRY #1402

Good to be Home

[copied from dland]

MWAH! I love you all, and it feels so good to be back home with you where I belong.

Perhaps I should explain.

I had a bad day on the W8 Watching message boards. How fucked up is that? I posted a question early this afternoon -- things were slow in the library -- and within a half hour, I had about a dozen replies, all telling me how terrible I was and not following the plan and why was I even there if I wasn't going to follow the plan and how I should do everything just the way they all do it and ... okay, you got the picture.

Feeling like an idiot, I posted a reply to clarify things a little bit. And they came back with more, more about how just awful I was for not wanting to do things the right way. I should have stopped there, but I tried to clear things up again -- I was home by this time -- and it went on.

By this time, I was very upset, which is also stupid of me, but I couldn't believe that what I was writing just wasn't making sense to these people. It was as if I was writing in another language, one unheard of on this planet. I mean, I realize that I was using semi-colons and other linguistic type stuff previously unknown on the WW message boards, but honestly. And the whole time, I'm thinking: Who are these people? My buddies all understand me when I write!

By this time, K was home and advised me to put it behind me and let it go. I told her what I originally wrote and she said I should never try to be funny or light-hearted on message boards. Oh. What the hell do I know? I generally only write for you guys.

Anyway, it's a freakin' jungle over there. My final response (after K told me to let it go) was yet a third apology, and also a request for no further replies, which no one who reads me here has ever failed to respect. I didn't go read the replies when I got back from the audiologist, but I checked, and there were about five more after mine.

Animals.

Enough of that shit. I'm just glad to be back here where I belong, among humans who know how to write, and read, which apparently they don't seem to be able to do.

Anyway, I got a couple of things done after school (in amongst the angst) and then I had the audiologist at 6:30. He was delighted that I went in with a page-long bulleted list of all my hearing aid concerns; he said he wished everyone were that OCD organized. So he made a bunch of adjustments and they do seem better right away, although I still have to live with them for the next week and work with the volume controls to see how good they are. But my own voice has a much more normal quality, and I'm having a lot less trouble hearing K's continuous occasional comments about America's Next Top Model. At the moment, in fact, the aids are not bothering me at all in any way.

Oh, I just got another lovely comment (this one from the locked boxx) about my picture yesterday, and again, you are all The Finest Kind. I wasn't fishing for compliments, though, mostly I was just sharing with you all how cool it is to have self-esteem for a change. Boxx commented, btw, that I look Italian, and I have been told this for most of my life, although I am Italian in last name only, as the Hubs is Italian/Irish. (Which no one believes because he appears in most ways to be 100% Italian.) The funny thing is that my first name, which you know I rarely share because it's a) uncommon and b) I hate it, is actually not an uncommon Italian name. When I married the Hubs, my mother said "Oh, that must be why I gave you that name, because I knew that one day you'd have a last name to match it." And I pointed out to her that when I was born (1953) the typical Jewish mother's reaction to a daughter marrying a nice Italian boy would have been to put her head in the oven. Which was true for 1953, and not so far off the mark when my cousin married a not-Jewish guy in 1966, but not any kind of deal, big or small, for my parents and family by the time 1977 rolled around for me. (And not for the Hubs' family either, fortunately.)

Once again, I have been very good with my eating today and even took a nice long walk around the school corridors at one point this morning, so it's time to have a bit of a snack since I have more than enough points left to eat. And my two-week headache, which is mostly dull and just there, is rising some, so I think I need to eat something. Anyway, that's my story and I'm sticking with it.

Love,
p. chai


WATCHING TOP MODEL :: ENTRY #1401

Weird

[copied from dland]

I still can't get Gmail to load, which sucks, but surprisingly I was still logged into Google, and got into my Google documents through the home search page. Strange. I don't like not being able to get my email, but I guess it'll come back at some point. It worked at school all day.

Anyway, here's what I wrote at school earlier today:

MY PANTS ARE LOOSE.

I'm not saying I've dropped a size or anything, but my XL pants are just a skooch loose here and there. I haven't lost a pound in three weeks, but I guess something's happening, eh? Well, that's good.

I'm totally dragging today because I could not fall asleep last night. Or maybe I was asleep but I felt like I was awake. No, I'm pretty sure I was awake, because I kept getting out of bed and eating. I do not do that in my sleep. So maybe I slept for three hours, if that. I can't even keep my eyes open.

It's quieter day at school. Yesterday's minor budget triumph turned out to be a mistake on the part of the new secretary, so that money's not there and we're not getting stuff with it. We can order it as soon as next year's budget opens up in June or July, but still. The Board just took back tons of our budgeted funds this year because we didn't spend it before the deadline, which, btw, they neglected to share with anyone. Nice.

Well, folks, here I am.

I couldn't get anything at home last night, and so I figured I'd wait til I was all put together this morning and bring in my camera and ask the SCM to take the picture. My problem with pictures -- with myself in pictures, that is -- is not my weird eye, because that comes out okay; it's that my smile is very strange because only one side of my mouth moves. When you're looking at me in person it's not a big deal because I'm moving, but when the camera captures and freezes me, I look very distorted. But the angle of this picture seems to have taken care of that.

See all my pretty gray? And my cool eyeshadow? I didn't attempt the eyeliner this morning, though, but the rest of the make-up is there.

Let me tell you about my space there in the new library. Behind my head, at a kind of 2:00 position, is my Thomas Jefferson bobble-head. Right behind him is a picture I used in my recent display about World War II; it's my parents in about 1942, so I'm keeping it there. Now, you may notice that I'm wearing an ID badge, which we all are wearing now. Here's a better shot of it:

If you can see the picture on the card, that's what I generally think I look like, and for the last many years. I guess I took this picture after I lost the weight four years ago. I loved this haircut, too. I got a good picture because, as the taker of the ID card pictures, I got to sit there and take as many as I wanted to -- maybe I took 30 -- until I got one I could live with. But anyway, this is basically my self-image. Time to start seeing myself in a new way.

It is not nearly the beautiful day they said it would be. It is 42 degrees, but it was supposed to be in the 50s, and in the 60s for the next two days. But it's very overcast today, so maybe that's keeping the temp down a little. It's still way better than the cold we've had recently, don't get me wrong. But I'd really like to see some sun out there.

The new bag I'm using to day is so far working out pretty well, except for the damn paisley. Needs tweaking.

Nails after school today, and then, if I can keep my head up, a few errands here and there. I don't think I'll make it to Target and the toilet paper on sale, maybe later in the week. I don't even want to go to a supermarket, although I may not be able to avoid that. I need some bottled water and a few other things. Ooh, maybe the discount beauty supply/drugstore place. (Harmon, if you're local.) They might have it all.

So far, I'm pretty disoriented by the time thing, as I always am the first week at work afterwards. It's probably why I didn't sleep, among other things. Oh, since I wasn't sleeping, I watched that new show last night, The Riches. First, let me say I totally heart Eddie Izzard, hubba hubba. I never thought of him that way before, you know, when I saw him wearing dresses. Huh. But he looks great in this, and is great, and it is a very different and interesting show. I'm not a Minnie Driver fan, but I thought she was excellent as well, as were the kids and other supporting people. Worth watching, I thought.

---

Home. You know, where the Gmail won't load.

I got my nails done and it was very quiet there at first, no other customers, and I let my eyes close between changing my hands back and forth on the table, and then a woman came in whom I kind of know, and she sat down next to me and DID NOT STOP TALKING FOR A DAMN MINUTE. It was a nightmare. I was soooooo tired, and could barely focus on the conversation, which was pretty much all on her side anyway.

I had gone to CVS before nails, and couldn't get everything I wanted, so I went to Eckerd after, which in this town is a very crummy and not-nice store. They did have the hair conditioner I was looking for, though.

I managed not to fall asleep at home; first I talked to the Sibs for a while and then I really cleaned out the refrigerator and packed up the rest of the tuna casserole into freezer bags and had a frozen meal for dinner. I have eaten excellently today; no snacks at all. Yet. I did just eat a prune, though; remind me not to do that again.

Fearing Gmail and all it stands for, I also just printed out my list of hearing aid problems, also being kept for the last week in Google documents. I'm going to the audiologist tomorrow at 6:30, so keep your fingers crossed that I come out better than I'm going in. I really do think he can do a lot better for me. It's a process with new hearing aids; it always is and I know it. But I want them to work NOW. Is that too much to ask?

I need cheese.


WATCHING RAYMOND :: ENTRY #1400

Part One

[copied from dland]

(At school.)

I am having just the kind of day I like to have at school. Surprise! The SCM is out and I have been very busy all day and actually had a project to keep the sub busy all day as well, a project that would have been done by student aides, if we still had any, but we don't, so now it's getting done and he's not in my hair or hanging around being bored. I have been doing a little bit of this and a little bit of that and even had a class that wasn't scheduled until this morning sign up and come in and do an interesting project. (It's the Forensics class and they're learning about serial killers.) And I've helped kids individually WITH BOOKS, and with documentation questions, and checked out books and checked some in, and worked on some budget stuff, and made some signs to put up, and finished a yearbook project for an alumni group, and I even managed to get a bottle of water finished off. That's the way I like it. Uh huh.

I was supposed to go to a meeting this afternoon, what I used to call the Dreaded Monthly Meeting, but it's been canceled, which it usually is and that's why I don't call them Monthly anymore. They're actually scheduled for every two weeks now, but maybe we have one every other month. And there's allegedly a general faculty meeting today, too; I don't think we've had one of those since early December. My former principal, the Psycho, had one every other week, the maximum she could have by contract, and had us there and kept us the whole allowed time even if she had nothing to say. Even if she was out of the building, she made the vice-principal hold the meetings and keep us there, but the last VP would let us out early because really, who was gonna tell on her?

I am starving! Because my friend the Other Chai is away this week -- she takes a group of kids to Washington every year for a week to do government research projects -- I didn't bother to go down to the faculty room for a break; I just had the coffee in my little thermos here at my desk, and so I didn't eat anything. That saved me a point or two. But I sure am ready for lunch, which is coming up in ... about 25 minutes here, at noon. I should have lots of points left for dinner tonight, but I have no idea what I'm having. I'll have to wait for K to get home to figure that out.

Part Two

(At home.)

The day slowed down some, and by the end of the faculty meeting I had a killer headache, but in general, a pretty good day for having to be there. I cut my errands short after school and only went to the make-up store and then to the ShopRite for a few items, and then home, where I snacked shamelessly. Which would have been okay, but then K and I ended up going to TGI Friday's for dinner, where I ate mucho food this is Not Good For Me, and there we are. I don't care, we all know that if I lose this weight it's going to take me years to do it. Anyway, I had an unusual experience before.

We were about to leave for the restaurant -- yes, we really must eat at home more, and we will -- and I was in the bathroom washing my hands and chanced to look up at the mirror and thought "Hey! Who the hell IS that?" The amazing thing here is that I was not thinking "Who is that old fat woman?" but rather "Hey, I don't look so bad!" I rather enjoyed that. Here's why I look so different to myself lately. One, it's the make-up. I no longer look like death warmed over on a regular basis. And when I saw myself in the mirror today, I even had eyeliner on, because they had put it on me at the make-up store. Two, I am wearing my more comfortable clothes because the weather is so nice, no sweater today, and I much prefer the look of a collared shirt with a t-shirt under it, which is what I have on. But Three, and this is the big one, is my hair.

My hair is completely different from any way I have ever worn it before in my whole life. I have had relatively few different hairstyles as a grown person, which I won't bore you with the details of at the moment, but I started with waist-length hair in college, had shoulder length on and off for a while, and have mostly had very short hair for the last very many years. I like short hair because it's so easy to take care of.

But my hair now is much longer than very short, although it would probably be called short by anyone else. The layers are longer, although the length is not terribly long. But the coolest thing about my hair is this: I am turning gray. The length of the layers that I have now makes the gray show up much, much more. Most of my gray is at the sides, over my ears, and some more in the front; I have very little gray in the back (according to my hair-cutter.) The gray looks all silvery and pretty, kind of like highlights I don't have to pay for, and they make the rest of my brown hair ... well, kind of pop, if you know what I mean. I LOVE my hair! I don't think I've ever been able to say that before! Perhaps I will try to take a picture of myself and put it up here for you, although I can't promise that getting such a picture will be easy. I'll see what I can do.

Okay, day is done. All I have left to do is change my bag for tomorrow, since the one I changed to for today sucked. I have very specific bag requirements, and my perfect bag that I love is now just a biiiit too small for what I need to carry every day, so I'm testing replacements from among the billions and billions of bags I already have. (I have bag issues, which I'm sure I've mentioned before.) Our featured bag for this evening is a navy paisley SportSac that the Chum gave me for Christmas. My hopes are not high. I ain't a paisley sorta gal.


WATCHING FRIENDS :: ENTRY #1399

Randomly Randomizing

[copied from dland]

Hmm, Frick and Frack ... definite possibilities.

Well, they re-ran that British bands thing again at 10:00 last night and when I heard their beautiful voices I could barely make myself turn around, but I did, and this is what I saw:

Heavens, I began to sway -- they were singing "True Love Ways" -- and then their all time great, "World Without Love" and ohhhhhh .... they were just lovely. I hit the record button to save the show and now I can see it whenever I want. Who are these two old men?

They are Peter and Gordon.

Was anyone cuter than Peter Asher? I think not. And his sister, you know, was Paul McCartney's girlfriend, Jane Asher, and I used to dream about being Peter's girlfriend because he was so cute and then we could hang out with Paul and Jane. "A World Without Love", btw, was written by Paul McCartney and John Lennon and given to Peter and Gordon to be their first big hit. Peter Asher became a music producer, I believe. Gordon Waller probably scares little children, which isn't nice to say, but he scared me. Wait, I'll look him up.

.
.
.

Couldn't find it. I don't know what he does. Fortunately, I don't need to.

Okay, on to today.

I got a ride this morning in the Sibs' new Prius, at last, and it is quite a weird car, but very nice. Lots of leg room and very comfortable seat. There is a little bitty gear shift, but it's on the dashboard. Every readout and display is a computer graphic, which you can switch from one to another -- from the radio to the temperature to the balance of power, as in gas versus electric -- with buttons. When you shift into reverse, the display becomes a video screen of what you're backing up into. There is no key to get in or to start the car, just a key fob that allows the car to recognize you when you get close to it. Once you're inside, you press a Power button to start it, but it only works if you have the fob on you.

Ach, I've got shiny object syndrome again today. I go into a room to get or do something specific and get side-tracked into another lengthy task (from which I get side-tracked into something else) and only when I'm finally done and sit down do I realize that I never did the thing I originally intended to do. It's driving me crazy, and yet I feel it's all downhill from here, if you know what I mean.

Oh, email. I'll be right back.
.
.
.
Oh, cool, email from Spritopias! Hi! Hi!

So I made the tuna casserole, cleverly waiting until after I fed the cats and after I took a nap (because if I fell asleep while it was in the oven, the timer wouldn't wake me up.) Now, even though it looks like it's 2:00 in the afternoon because, well, you know, K and I just had some for dinner and it was basically meh. It needs something, and since I don't salt my food, I don't know what it needs. I'm taking suggestions. It was basically noodles, tuna, cream of mushroom soup, and a bag of frozen vegetables. Oh, and I didn't put bread crumbs on top; I used corn flake crumbs because that's how my mother made it. Hers was a lot better than mine, btw; Shirl was an extremely competent but not creative cook, so stuff like Tuna Noodle Casserole was her bread and butter, so to speak.

(For some reason, I just felt the need to log in what I had for dinner, and check my last few days' entries, and do god knows what else in the middle of writing here. I am aging exponentially.)

I got email from the SCM a little while ago; he'll be out tomorrow. I'm not sure what that means for me; the new person taking care of substitutes, who is a lovely woman, is being told by the regular office harpies that the librarians don't need substitutes when they're out because we don't do anything anyway. Greeeeaaat. So we'll see how that goes. They've been getting us subs so far since the new library opened, so I'll just have to assume that I'll have one. And anyway, the principal's already told me that we're supposed to have one, so if I have to, I'll tell them that. You know, I have tremendous respect for secretaries and what they do. Why these people have no respect for me or for what I do, I don't know. Why they think they know more about being teachers than teachers do, I also don't know. I wouldn't presume to tell them what their jobs are.

Oy, the last thing I wanted to get into now. I used to love getting email from the SCM telling me he was going to be out; it meant a quiet day for me and the Colleague. Now it just means craziness. And I don't even know if we have a faculty meeting after school; there's one on the schedule, but the principal sometimes emails us instead and cancels the meetings, which would mean an early day for me (leaving when the kids do) since that's what we do when one of us is out. Target, here I come.

How'd everybody do with the clock change, any disasters? I had to disable automatic daylight savings time on my alarm clock, but other than that, everything went fine. (Except that the Sibs hadn't changed anything, so when I called her this morning to wake her up for today's pedicure, she was a little disoriented. As are my cats all day.)

OH.MY.GOD.

I got up to see what noise the cat was making in the kitchen and then I thought, let me check and see what I have for lunch tomorrow, and then I dried some of the things in the drainboard and put them away and then I went to the bathroom and while I was there I thought, I'm going to see if I can get that eyeliner put on, and then I did something in the bedroom -- I forget what -- and came back into the family room and said "WHAT WAS I GOING TO DO NOW?" Then I remembered the eyeliner, but I STILL had not posted this, so here, you can have it now, and then I think I need a sedative.

WATCHING SUPERNANNY MARATHON :: ENTRY #1398

Home Invasion

[copied from dland]

Yes, the ILs were here today. Long day. Let me recap for you:

I finished my cleaning this morning, which was good because I found out last night they were coming at 12:30, which in IL-speak means 12:00. Like K and I, the ILs are compulsively early people.

When they arrived, the FIL managed to get into the house -- his mobility is severely limited -- and parked in a chair in the living room and pretty much stayed there. So we all sat in the living room, which we almost never do. Living room seating consists of a couch that used to be the Sibs', two cushy club chairs, and one uncomfortable cane-backed chair (where the FIL sat); all three chairs are formerly my parents'. The MIL left around 12:45 to go to the baby shower she came up here for, and then ... eternity set in. The Hubs and his father were supposed to be going to visit the Hubs' uncle (FIL's brother-in-law) and cousin, but Uncle Al, slightly addled and pretty much stone deaf, forgot to call until after 2:00 to report that his son had arrived and they should go over there. So until then, the Hubs, K, and I rotated in and out of the living room, keeping the FIL company and listening to his endless stories. He is perfectly sharp and clear of mind, but he is painstakingly sloooooooooooow in everything he does. I don't know if he was always this way or it's due to his age. He also repeats the same stories to each new listener, even if there's one new listener in the room and everyone else has already heard him ad infinitum. But he is a dear, despite all that.

They headed out, R arrived, she and K and I went to the supermarket, the afternoon passed. When we got home, the Hubs and the FIL were already back, and ensconced in the family room. The only place the FIL can sit in here is in my desk chair, which I know and is where I expect him to sit when he comes. But the family room is down two steps from the kitchen, so once again, getting in and out is a chore for him. Handicap + slow = shoot me now.

Then the MIL returned, and we hung out until it was time to meet the SIL and her husband for dinner at 6:00. The real mercy here is that since the ILs had to be in our area anyway, dinner was about a mile from our house; in fact, at a restaurant virtually right behind the house the ILs lived in when they lived here until they moved to the Jersey shore (aka Where All The Old People In New Jersey Live.)

Somehow, the wait staff at the restaurant must have picked up on the FIL's vibe because OH GOD WHERE THEY SLOW. The food was very good, though, and the Hubs only lost his temper ... oh, let me see, I think three times. What can I say. This is why I don't take him anywhere, but I figure if we're with his parents, let them worry about it. Generally, his mother is the only one who will ever tell him to cut it out, but when she does, he loses it more, so he pretty much has her trained not to do that anymore, either. But I digress.

We parted at the restaurant, after reminding the ILs to call us when they get home -- heh heh, they always do that to us when we leave them -- and didn't get home until after 8:00, at which point I became distracted by every shiny object that crossed my path. I had Things to do, yet first I became charmed by an email from eBay about Bare Escentuals, that makeup over which I am passionate, and I got caught up in that for a while, and went into the bathroom to see what color blush I use but stopped to ask the Hubs if he wanted to talk to his mother when she calls -- he never answers the phone unless he's alone in the house, even if he knows it's his mother calling -- and forgot to ask him because I saw he was sitting in his little study in one of the living room club chairs and wondered when he had moved it because I know I had been sitting in it earlier today and also I had stopped in the living room on my way to the bathroom to lock the front door and hadn't even noticed that it wasn't there and he said he had moved it 12 seconds ago and had never noticed until today that these were comfortable chairs and I said didn't he think they were comfortable when he saw my father sitting in one 24/7 for years when they were in my parents' living room and then he said Oh, he had sat in them before. (breathe.) Anyway, I think I told him years ago to put one in his study because he's never had a comfortable chair in there and needed one. But now, of course, he will never buy a new chair for that room, because this one is as good as new, and new was in 1961, when they still built furniture to last. And anyway, my mother had the chairs totally re-upholstered twice over the years, so they're solid as a rock -- the insides, I mean; they're very comfortable -- and the fabric's in good shape, too.

[Just got the phone call; they're safely home.]

In the meantime, there is never anything on TV on Saturday night, except the pubic TV station is always running oldies concerts, most of which I pass on, but tonight is all British invasion groups and singers, and I am loving it. Every singer looks older than dirt, but they sound exactly the same. At the moment, "Go Now" is being sung by god knows who, because it's a Moody Blues song and these are not the Moodies, but I think it's the Moodies' original lead singer, who thought the group was going nowhere so he quit to be a solo performer and the Moodies put an ad in the paper for a guitarist and they got Justin Hayward and the rest is history. If you're a fan of Moody Blues history, that is. I don't think of them as an old-timey group (although they were a serious part of my brief stoner phase in college), since I've seen them live about a half dozen times over the last 15 years.

And what are the chances that a person is going to hear "Ferry 'Cross the Mersey" twice in one day? It's on my new CD mix and came on in the car and K said "Who is this?" and I said "Gerry and the Pacemakers" and she laughed and thought I made it up. ("Pacemaker" as a medical device didn't even exist when this group was big, big being a relative term.) And of course it was just on the show on TV and Gerry is old, man. I think I'm glad I missed Peter and Gordon; I seriously loved them when I was a kid although Gordon gave me a bit of the creeps. Chad and Jeremy, now there was an adorable duo.

I had wine with dinner, but you can't tell or anything, right?

If you're wondering what dieters eat at an Italian restaurant, the answer is apparently Penne Bolognese, which was excellent. As was the Pasta Fagioli, which put me right over my points goal for the day. But I didn't have any bread, and only put vinegar on my salad.

My distraction issue seems to have resolved itself; now I can't stop writing and trust me, I've run out of anything to say, unless you want to know that I'm making a Tuna Noodle Casserole tomorrow for the first time since about 1968 (when I last helped my mother make one.) I don't even know if I have a casserole dish in the house.

Jeeps, folks, I have got to quit this. I still have to figure out what color blush to order, and it's already past my bedtime. Or not. I am seriously perceptually impaired when it comes to Daylight Savings Time. I double-checked with the Hubs before when I changed my alarm clock. I know, spring forward, but I still don't always get it right.

GOOD NIGHT!


WATCHING PBS BRITISH BANDS :: ENTRY #1397

A Real Entry

[copied from dland]

Maybe if I start to write at school, I'll manage to get a whole entry in.

As for Idol, I agree with Yvonne -- too many little girls with cell phones voted for Sanjaya, who, as Jane pointed out, seems to be only technically a boy. But very sweet; as a teacher I would love to have him in a class and he's probably a wonderful son and brother. But it's a singing contest, folks. I don't know that any of the boys are really that good, except maybe Chris and whatsisname, the one that beat boxes. Many more talented girls this year. And that's all I have to say about that.

Aids. Well. I am already adjusting to them some, but I have a long list of things I need to talk to the audiologist about when I see him on Wednesday, a lot of adjustments for him to make. In general, they fit well and feel fine, but internal sounds are magnified beyond belief and although I can hear external sounds, I still can't pick out conversation when more than one person is talking, and I can't turn up the volume. The internal sounds are things like my own breathing, and chewing something crunchy is just a nightmare. Sounds that are close to me are also too loud, like the computer keys clicking, although some of that I know is what everyone hears and I just have to get used to it. Anyway, I have a list. I expect to go back with them every week or two for at least a month, maybe more, until they're fine-tuned for me. That's what you do when you get hearing aids.

I did realize this morning, though, that I can talk on the phone on my right side! That's something I haven't done in a very, very long time, and it means that not only is the microphone on the right side working, it works well, and that when the left side is properly tweaked, they should work in tandem very well. Listening to music on headphones, is, as I think I mentioned already, WONDERFUL. If I can, I'd like to get headphones that clip on my ears, since now I can wear those, and they'll be easier to carry around that headband phones; even though I have folding ones of those, they still take up space in my bag.

Using the phone on my left side is not great at home, because my phones don't have earpiece sections that are concave, if you know what I mean. The phone at work is fine over the hearing aid, but the home phone keeps smacking into it and causing feedback. I may try the home phone with a headset I have that I usually only use when I know I'm going to be on a long call, like tech support. I wonder if you can get a bluetooth wireless earpiece for a regular house phone? Wouldn't that be weird. I know someone who uses only a cellphone (I guess she's in a good reception area, unlike I am) and she has little kids, so she just sticks her bluetooth earpiece on when she gets up in the morning and she can answer the phone whenever she needs to, even carrying a baby. It's the future, man.

Oh, the reason I can't turn up the volume on the hearing aids is that I asked the audiologist to disable that control for now. Yes, this was stupid, but I was trying something. The volume is set by the computer program on these -- it's on this actually; only the left one is technically a hearing aid and the other one is a microphone and transmitter -- to be at the optimum level for me according to my hearing test. So I thought I'd try it at first with that setting. Okay, so maybe I didn't thrink it through. He can fix that on Wednesday in a trice.

Anyway, the school day is drawing to a close. (I've been writing this in dribs and drabs throughout the day. .... That's it! Good names for the hearing aids? Drib and Drab? Maybe it still needs work.)

I'm leaving in about 15 minutes, and then off to the ever-delightful Radio Shack for a weird little battery I can't find anywhere else (it's for the car CD remote), and then to the nearby teacher store for a good, old-fashioned pointer. I hope they still make them. Due to an odd series of high-tech circumstances, it looks like I'm going to need one. (Or else I need the stick from a classroom flag. Hmm. They've probably got those laying around the school someplace.)

Okay, okay, I'm turning off. (I'll post later from home.)


WATCHING DR. PHIL :: ENTRY #1396