At Last!

I've had this entry rolling around in my head since last night, but I was sure I had already written part of it in some other entry, and it took a long time to find it, because, as it turns out, it was one of the earliest entries I wrote.

After I finished reading Exodus last night, around seven, I thought I would watch the movie. I had gotten the movie on sale last summer so I had it, even though I'd never seen it before. I got up to put it in the DVD player and saw that it was three and half hours long. Oy. I would have to stay up until nearly eleven, so I passed.

I had some dinner, saw that there was nothing on TV, and decided that it was going to be three and a half hours long whenever I did decide to watch it, so I put it in. It was nearly 8:30, so I watched until nearly midnight, after which, of course, I couldn't fall asleep for an hour or two.

Anyway, a good movie, worth watching, not a bad adaptation of the book. The screenplay was written by Dalton Trumbo. And the music is wonderful; the Exodus theme was a very popular song for a long time. But the music that stuck with me was Hatikvah, the Israeli national anthem.

One of the things that struck me about Hatikvah is that I knew the song immediately. In the movie, when the U.N. resolution partitioning Palestine is announced, the waiting crowd begins to sing the song. I couldn't make out the words as sung by a crowd, and there were no captions for it, and they were in Hebrew anyway, but I knew all the words, and sang along with it in my head. Now, how the hell does that happen?

The how has to do with the old entry I was looking for all afternoon, which is here. (The entry is actually the whole story of my original tattoo, but the relevant parts for now are the first two, about Sunday School.) I didn't attend Sunday School at a synagogue; my parents would never have joined a religious congregation. But I went to secular Sunday Schools, three all together. They taught us about holidays, and there were history stories from The Bible -- I still have my Sunday School story book -- and I picked up a very small smattering of Hebrew. And there were songs.

The songs we learned were in Hebrew, even though none of us were really learning to speak or read Hebrew, but these were the traditional songs. We learned the songs phonetically, by repetition. I learned three songs all together that I can remember. The first, and really, the most important one, is Hava Nagila, which is the song played for the hora, which is the most well-known traditional Jewish folk-dance. (You can hear a reasonable version of it here.) It's played/danced at every wedding or bar mitzvah. It's not a difficult dance; it's the only dance I can actually do, or am ever willing to do. (I looked for a YouTube of people dancing the hora, and this is the closest I could come to what I know. The hora is what the people in the circle are doing. At a wedding, the bride and groom are often lifted onto chairs in the center of the circle. In this video, btw, the people are not dancing to Hava Nagila; it's some other song.)

I also learned a dance and song called Mayim. The words consisted mostly of "mayim mayim mayim mayim HEY! Hey mayim!" and so on. This was also a circle dance; I have no idea what the word means.

Hatikvah means hope. It is a beautiful, haunting song; I remember thinking that as a child. I could sing the song phonetically, but all I knew about the meaning was that it was something about the hope of the Jewish people for a homeland, Eretz Israel. You can hear the song here, and read the words in English.

I haven't started my next book yet, which is actually about a fictional past in which the post World War II Jewish state was established in Alaska instead of in the middle east. It seems like the logical book to read next.

WATCHING L/O :: ENTRY #1794
SUMMER BOOK #3: The Yiddish Policemen's Union by Michael Chabon

Sunday Afternoon!

I've been reading for the last couple of hours, and I just got up to take a break, partly because, well, it's potty time, and partly because it can be hard to read historical fiction or history when you're getting to the part when you know what's coming and you know it won't be pretty.

However.

As soon as I put my book down and stood up, I looked around, saw the clock, and thought, "Okay, Sunday afternoon; now what do I have to do to get ready for tomorrow?" And then I remembered: NOTHING! No need to lay out clothes or think about lunch, or think about a hurried breakfast. YAY!

I do have to set the alarm, though, because I have the plumber coming at eight, so I need to be up by seven. I asked for the first appointment of the day because then they can't be delayed somewhere else first. The good news, though, is that I can reset the alarm from 5:30 to 7:00.

Another day of storms off an on. Here's what I want to know. These people who say there's no global warming, no funny climate changes going on: do they have windows? Where do they live where none of this stuff is going on? Just wondering.

WATCHING L/O :: ENTRY #1793
SUMMER BOOK #2: Exodus by Leon Uris

Time Enough

I don't know why I didn't have time to write yesterday, since I'm sure I wasn't doing much of anything, but I didn't, and today was odd, too, time-wise, but here I am. Yesterday I went to the therapist in the morning, then the supermarket, then did some Wii, then started reading. C'est ça.

Today started with the normal Saturday morning (cleaners, Dunkin Donuts) and then, not much more. We had to go to my nephew's wedding shower tonight, for which we had to leave home around 4:15 for a 5:00 arrival, so there didn't seem much point in doing anything else all day before that except read and then get ready to go. Social anxiety aside (mine and my sister's), it was okay, except for a couple of things, none of them worth mentioning but one, which is that I could not bear to see my sister's first husband (Satan J) acting as if he knew how to be a real father and hadn't been such a shithead while his kids were growing up. Good Guy Nephew is on decent terms with him now, despite it all, but Satan J actually does not even make eye contact with Wonderful Niece, who, let me remind you, is Good Guy's twin. An interesting quality in a father, that he gets to pick which of his children he likes and which ones he won't bother with. And for no reason; he didn't like her when she was a baby. No explanation for that one except that he's a shit.

The strangest thing about the whole event was that both my husband and my sister's behaved and acted like entirely normal people. Mine did not lose his temper, even though both his veganism and his not-smoking were topics of discussion, and my sister's had more pleasant conversation with me than he has in the ten years of their marriage. We even discussed a topic or two from when they originally dated, which would be some 40+ years ago, at which time I could not bear the sight of him and I'm guessing he wasn't too thrilled with me, the little sister. But I did thank him tonight for introducing me to the music of Bob Dylan. So that's something.

K rode up there with us, but stayed after we left, and is being ferried home by her sister, unless my sister, who lives closer to us, makes an offer. Either way, this party was held in Bumfuck, New Jersey; I thought we were going to need sherpas to help us find our way back to the highway, but we left before it got dark and the Hubs really is very good at that sort of thing. I swear, I don't know how these people -- the bride's mother and step-father -- find their way home at night. None of the streets are lit, and some of them don't have street signs. Great place for a party.

Okay, back to Exodus. Interesting book, lots of background for the whole Israel/Palestinian thing. The upshot is that it's about 95% England's fault, with a lot of other countries in the world -- Hitler's Germany and Stalin's Russia come to mind -- making up the other 5%. Amazingly, this was not a U.S. fuck up, at least not originally. Interesting to note that until Israel was declared a state, everyone who lived there, Jew, Arab, and Christian, called themselves Palestinians. Because they all lived in Palestine. Okay, back to the book.

WATCHING L/O :: ENTRY #1792
SUMMER BOOK #2: Exodus by Leon Uris

So Then I ...

After I posted my answer to the question this morning, I went on and lived my day, which is to say, I do vacation very well. I was totally relaxed all day. I got my haircut, and even though it wasn't styled the way I expected, I'm sure the cut is fine and I can do it myself. I had my follow up with Resnick, who says that we are going to grow old together, which amused me; it's his way of assuring me that I am going to live a long life. What does he know, he's not my cardiologist, and I knew I wasn't going to die from Crohn's anyway, not now or ever, but hey, I enjoy Resnick and I got what he meant, so that's all good, too. Feeling much better, btw.

Played some games, reading a good book, which I'm going to go finish now. So far, the summer couldn't be working out better for me.


WATCHING FUTURAMA :: ENTRY #1791
SUMMER BOOK #1: ABOUT A BOY by Nick Hornby

Question

Cardiogirl posted this today from The Book of Questions by Gregory Stock, Ph.D.

It's Question 164. (The italicized questions are the followups to the main question.)

If someone offered you a large amount of money for some information about one of your company’s products, would you accept it? Assume you know you won’t be discovered. How do feel about taking a sick day at work when you aren’t ill? Have you ever made unauthorized, personal, long-distance phone calls or taken tools or supplies from work? Have you ever falsified a time card or an expense report? If through a computer error you were given too large a paycheck, would you report it? Do you see such moral choices as black-and-white issues?

I read the main question in a completely different way than Cardiogirl did, but I'll answer both. She said that she would never give away information about her company for money. I originally read this as a kind of whistle-blower thing, like if I worked for a company that was polluting a river or something, would I tell that for money? My answer is that I would tell that for no money. As for the original intent of the question, no, I wouldn't do that.

How about taking a sick day when you're not ill? Well, yes, I have done this a lot, and I don't feel guilty about it all. I know they're called sick days, but I have always seen them as days that are there for when you need them for something, sick or not. Sometimes it was because one of my children was sick, and sometimes it was because I had to clean the house before company came. When it's a day that you take because you can't stand to go in there one more day, we at school call these "mental health" days, and they are as valid as fever/vomit kind of sick days.

Long distance phone calls? No, I don't think I've ever done that, or needed to. Oh wait, I do remember years ago having to make long-distance phone calls from work, but I would charge them to my home phone number. I haven't needed to do anything like that for a long time.

Taken tools or supplies from work? Technically, yes, but I don't feel guilty about this either because it's a wash. If I need a roll of tape for home, I take it from the library's supplies. If I need gluesticks in the library, I go out and buy them. If I buy a book that was good but I feel no need to keep, I bring it in and add it to the library collection. Last year, when I bought all the posters for the library, we only had enough money in petty cash to pay me back for about half of it, so I don't feel guilty at all when I bring home a file folder, or use the photocopier for something personal. It works out even, more or less, I suppose.

Time card or expense report? I've never ever falsified those few expense reports I've had to turn in (except that I've never asked to be reimbursed for mileage because I can't do the math, so that's falsification in their favor), and we don't have time cards, as such, and I admit I am flexible with my hours. We're supposed to sign in by the sign-in time (7:55) and sign out at or after the sign-out time (3:05.) I haven't signed out in 20 years; I decided not to when I didn't one day and I got a note in my mailbox the next morning from the then principal asking why I hadn't, and I wrote back that when I left the building the night before at 10:00 PM -- we had been decorating for prom -- the office was locked. I got the same note the next day and sent the same answer. After that, I never signed out and no one has ever complained. Now that the library is on the other side of the building from the office, I am certainly never walking all the way over there to sign out when my car is just outside the library. And I do generally leave around 3:00, if I can, but I get there at 7:00, so, once again, I figure it's a wash. Teachers are generally expected to put in more time than the clock says, and I do, I just do it in the morning when I'm alert and not in the afternoon when I'm dead. And we have kids waiting to get in by 7:15.

An extra large paycheck? Would that t'were! No, seriously, if there was a mistake in my paycheck, it would turn up somewhere else, and my last paycheck for the year would probably be zero, and that would suck. It's never a good idea to mess around with your paycheck; you have to tell someone right away or you will ultimately get screwed. This isn't even an honesty thing; it's a self-protective thing. So, yes, I would certainly report it. I tell cashiers they've given me too much change, if I notice it before I get home. If it was a large amount -- $10 or $20 or more -- and I noticed it after I got home, I would go back and tell them.

Black and white issues? Very little is black and white, or should be assumed to be so. Yes, there are some values that are absolute, but sometimes things are not so clear when it comes to applying them. And not to get sappy, but this is why children need good parents, and teachers of literature and history and science, so they can learn to develop good judgments and make them when necessary. (I still don't know why everyone needs to learn math.)

WATCHING THE GOLDEN GIRLS :: ENTRY #1790

How I Spent My Summer Vacation

The first day of it, anyway. Btw, in case I don't say it enough, I heart all you guys out there. You know, just making sure.

I had a very lovely, relaxing, and accomplishing day. (You know it's not a day for me unless I can cross a task off a list.) I slept until seven and woke up to a quiet house, with the Hubs already gone to work and K not up for what turned out to be two more hours. I took a leisurely shower and got dressed, and then with my hair still wet under a baseball cap, took a quick run to CVS for something and then to a new Dunkin Donuts nearby with a drive-through window. And an incredibly cheerful and friendly worker at the window. I think I've found a new home.

I did my hair and make-up and still had time to kill so I made one more attempt to get the Wii sports pack that I'm looking for (with a baseball bat, tennis racket, etc.) and even though it was there on Sunday when I got the system, they were out of it today. I am officially giving up the search. It'll turn up someday when I'm not looking for it. Then another latte (hot this time) on the way home, and then the official start of the summer for me: my first doctor's appointment.

This was a mid-year checkup with the internist, the one I was wondering how I would confront over the situation this past winter when I was sick for a good long time before they diagnosed the Crohn's. I had felt that she was blowing me off; the Hubs just thought she was incompetent. I've already discussed this with Resnick, so I know that they weren't blowing me off, but I wanted to clear the air about how I had felt at the time.

Well. She came into the room smiling, clearly delighted to see me, and incredibly warm, taking my hand and telling me how good it was to see me well and how worried they had been when I was sick, and that she's been updated by Resnick on this week's possible flare and so on, and really: she just won me right over. She then proceeded to do what she's done any other time I had a concern (except for the Crohn's thing), which was to address it immediately and come up with a plan. I discussed my concern about one of my B.P. meds and she cut it in half. I talked to her about the estrogen etc. and she explained how the rest of that weaning off process will go. But really, get this one.

A bit of background first. My mother went to a doctor for several years who really was incompetent because he a) never took her off sleeping pills, and b) never told her to stop smoking. Now, I'm not looking for a doctor who's going to say Hey, you go right on doing that bad stuff you're doing! because that's just stupid, but the doctor did specifically tell me not to go on a diet. I couldn't believe it. (Her reasoning is that since Crohn's tends to prevent the body from absorbing nutrients from all the food you eat, cutting down to 1200 calories or so would be insane, since then I would really not be getting enough vitamins and stuff to be healthy.) She did suggest more activity, which I expected, and which will hopefully work better with less of the B.P. stuff.

I came home and took a nap, and then when K went to class, I fired up the Wii. Let's see, today I played tennis and golf -- what a frustrating game; why does anybody play it? -- as well as my usual baseball and bowling. I also did a target shooting thing. Whatever, I worked up a sweat, which is the whole point.

In and among all this, I also took care of a variety of phone calls and appointments. Oh, the task I accomplished was to adjust the window blinds and cords in the family room so that I can raise and lower them now without a lot of hugga-mugga, which will hopefully let me sleep a little later in the morning. See, I had the cords all tied up so they weren't hanging loose because I was afraid the cats would get tangled in them. Yes, that would be the cats that both died last year. Hey, I never thought of doing it until today.

I did not clean today, nor did I cook, so my record there is still clean.

Tomorrow: a haircut, and of course, a doctor, who is Resnick. Maybe a brief trip to Trader Joe's or Whole Foods. I'm hungry.


WATCHING GILMORE GIRLS :: ENTRY #1789

This Just In ...

I'M FREE!!!


WATCHING FAMILY GUY :: ENTRY #1788

Stop the Insanity!!

Oh, wait, the insanity stops tomorrow, at least until September. But it was in full force today. Get this: the SCM and I got into the library this morning and it had been re-arranged.

Here's what that means. Several posters, as well as a framed portrait of George Washington, were taken down, and left in random places. Some of the tables had been turned so that they were now sideways. Many smaller pieces, like the sign-in desk, were on the other side of the room. The small clock and the fire drill instructions were missing, at first. The photocopier was unplugged and moved over about eight feet. And the best of all: the ten or so stacks (each stack is one vertical six-shelf bookshelf) that we had left empty because of the flood a few weeks ago and the work on the ceiling to be done above it were filled with books. The books that we had arranged on carts so that we could re-shelve them properly had been randomly put on the shelves for artistic effect, the way you would arrange shelves at home, but never in a library, with some books facing forward, some on their sides, some at angle. Even weirder, several frames photographs had been taken from the SCM's desk -- he's a very good photographer -- and placed here and there, some in the stacks with the books, one on the so-called circulation desk.

WTF?

Several deep breaths later, we learned that the same architects who had brought us this nightmare of a library had been in on Saturday to take pictures of their beautiful creation. They wreaked all this havoc, and did not put a single thing back. (They also moved two chairs and a coffee table out of the lounge area and blocked the entrance to the computer area with them.) The principal knows, but was pre-occupied with graduation today (in? out? rain? shine?) and so I need to address this with him tomorrow. In the meantime, the SCM took lots of pictures.

(It was an indoor graduation, btw. They didn't set up outside, and then it never rained a drop.)

In other news, I picked up some Wii toys and have to return one thing -- the baseball bat/tennis racket/golf club thingy -- because it doesn't work. What surprised me was that I didn't really find a good store to get the stuff in; I started at Circuit City, which didn't even have one game, then tried Toys R Us and finally Best Buy, and wasn't happy with any of them. Target, where I started on Sunday, probably has the best stuff. Who knew?

And now my arm is very sore, but in a good way. But time to lie down anyway.


WATCHING KEITH OLBERMAN :: ENTRY #1787

Still Crazy After All These Days

But in a good way now, I think. Listen: I have done something very crazy today, although I would have to go some to beat yelling at my boss the other day, and it was nothing like that. I did something -- I bought something -- as uncharacteristic of me as if I had gone out and bought a mink stole. (No, I didn't buy a mink stole.)

I bought a Wii.

Understand, I have never played an actual video game before except for Tetris on a GameBoy years back. I have never played a full-size TV video game, I have never wanted to, I have never connected one for my kids ... none of that. But I started to think about this yesterday (I think), and since I am virtually unable to let a task fester in my head without completing it, I looked into it and then lo and behold, Target not only had them today, but they were on sale. My plan was to get the Wii, one of those brain-training games, and Wii Fit, but they didn't have the game or the Fit, so I got the Wii and a Mario game for the girls.

I have to tell you: this is a very cool thing. Who knew? First we made our little avatars (which are called Miis) and then we all took turns playing the game that comes with the system, which is the one I really wanted, the one that's five different sports. I played baseball, which I used to love to play when I could still move, and aside from the adorable graphics, there is actually a physical workout involved (which is what I was going for.) You actually sense contact with a ball when you hit it. K is playing golf at the moment, which is stressing her out; she just said "How does anybody think this is a relaxing game?" which I never understood about golf either. But she kicked ass at bowling before, which I will try later, and R liked the tennis. We'll see if the Hubs cares to get involved at some point; we made him a cute little gray-haired avatar Mii too.

It was, to turn a phrase, stupid easy to set up, which I was a little apprehensive about, but there are a zillion connectors on the back of my TV and I followed the directions and everything just worked, which amazed me. My only real problem now is that there is not a ton of free space in the family room, and the coffee table, which is really more like a low chest or credenza, is very heavy, but will have to be moved for extensive play. (I need to get a wider stance when I swing the bat. Oh, I'm getting a little nerf bat tomorrow.)

So this is my end-of-the-school-year present to me. I'll see if I can pick up the other stuff that I wanted at Best Buy or someplace tomorrow; I sure would love to get the games used, so maybe I'll go to Gamestop, too.

Tomorrow night is graduation, which looks to be an indoor graduation this year, since storms are predicted, and an indoor graduation in my school is not a pretty sight. The auditorium is too small and not air-conditioned, and the gym will hold the graduates and two guests per graduate, if you pack them in like sardines, and is also not air-conditioned. I've been to two indoor graduations in my years there. The first was when nephew JJ graduated, in 1992, and the only reason my mother didn't faint in the stands was that she was squooshed between me and my sister and there would have been no place for her to fall. A few years later, I actually had to speak at graduation, since we were dedicating the library to a former principal and I was introducing him, so I got to sit up front where there was room, not to mention some big fans. Indoor graduations suck big time, but at least I won't have to be in the gym, since my duty is in the nice cool office.

Okay, it's getting to be my turn.

WATCHING Wii GOLF :: ENTRY #1786

Good Thing I'm Sitting Down

K is at a wedding, so the Hubs and I went out for dinner instead of ordering in our usual China food, and if that wasn't weird enough, while we were eating, he said that if there's someplace I'd like to go for a few days (like we went to Gettysburg last year), that would be nice. And as if that wasn't enough of a shocker, he even said it would be nice to visit the Chum, who has invited us to visit her in Maine every summer for the last, oh, maybe twenty years or so.

Now, I don't know if that would work or is even a good idea, but sometimes, it's like he forgets how weird he really is and passes as a regular person for awhile.

I did a whole lot of running around this morning, Costco and BJ's, and nobody sells Ivory Soap; what's up with that? I went to Barnes and Noble and apparently there are no copies of Tim Russert's book left to sell in America, which kind of didn't surprise me. The publisher is out of stock. I started reading one of those very strange Jasper Fforde books last night, and you know, they are strange. I had tried listening to the first one once and couldn't get through it, and now I think I have to pass on the second one, too. I do have lots of other things to read, but I can't decide what, and I watched my movie today, which was The Kite Runner and it was excellent and very moving and have tissues handy. I could also clean off my desk and pay some bills, but that's really more of a Sunday morning activity. I may just select a movie at random from the DVD shelf and see where that takes me.

I also went to the therapist today and re-lived my whole week for her, which was not such a good week, mostly, and that was very draining. As is the ten-day headache at this point.

Waiting for my sister to call me back; you know how that goes ...



WATCHING WILL & GRACE :: ENTRY #1785

But I'm Feeling Much Better Now

Night Court? Anybody else remember John Astin on Night Court?

Anyway, I had a very calm and peaceful day. I did my work, the issue that caused yesterday's meltdown was resolved, as I knew it would be today or Monday because that's how I planned it, and no one ran away from me as I walked down the corridors. Shortly after I got to school, I

1. called the nurse to thank her profusely, not only for her obvious medical knowledge, but for how comforting she was to me yesterday.
2. wrote an email of apology to the Martian for my behavior (not for the issue), because it really was unprofessional.
3. wrote an email of apology/thanks to the principal for being a psycho in his school -- I didn't put it that way -- and for his effective defusing of the situation, which I appreciated very much.

And we close that chapter of my life. I was all set to put it to rest with today's visit to the therapist, but her son came home sick from school, so I'm going tomorrow instead, and then I'll be done with it.

Oh, except I had a long talk with the Colleague last night after I posted, and we are all good there. She was very, very upset when I melted down -- she was standing right outside the Martian's door, which is where she works -- and that was the only thing I really felt bad about, but we're okay.

I finished reading Tim Russert's Wisdom of Our Fathers today, and if you're up for a good cry, I would recommend it. Aw, I recommend it anyway. It will make you cry and think about your father and it will make you cry and think about Tim Russert and his father and son. Although I think this whole Tim Russert death and book thing actually contributed to my instability this week, I'm going to see if I can get his first book, the one about his father, in Costco tomorrow.

That's my big plan for tomorrow, to get to Costco as early as I can (because I cannot stand crowds.) A big trip there is usually one of my first missions of the summer, and even though I have two days of work left, I am very much in summer mode, as everyone else at school seems to be. Kids were just wandering the halls today, in or out of class, signing yearbooks everywhere. I heard someone in the faculty room say that they were showing the end of a movie today and I wanted to say "Are you f--ing kidding me?" There is absolutely no education going on at this point; attendance for today and Monday won't even count because grades are essentially in already.

Anyway, that's my day tomorrow: cleaners, Costco, therapist. K is going to a friend's wedding and will be gone from Saturday morning to Sunday morning. R is coming over Sunday. Tomorrow will be quiet. Boring, but quiet. Sometimes that's a good thing.

WATCHING FRIENDS :: ENTRY #1785

Where O Where to Begin?

It has been quite a week, not in the good way. I don't even know where to start. Last night, I just couldn't write, and today, although everything kind of came to a head, I actually feel better. I'll start at the beginning, more or less, although make sure to stay tuned for the big finish.

As I have mentioned, I started to feel not well last Friday, less well than the normal day-to-day fluctuations. I made it through the weekend with a whole lot of donnatal, which calms intestinal pain, and some careful eating. I did have a really nice day at the SIL's on Sunday. Early Monday evening, the storms began. I wrote about it earlier in the week, but not about how absolutely terrified I was. I was too scared to move, too scared to cry, not just because of the storms but because of all kinds of feelings that they dredged up. The Hubs was his usual hacking-out-a-lung self in the other room, K was at class, and I was sitting perfectly still on the couch where I live, jotting notes on the Palm to share with the therapist. I wrote seven notes over the course of the evening, even after I was better, by which time I was crying. And I'm thinking, I'm not depressed, I don't feel depressed, I feel scared and sad. It's not the same.

Tuesday, do I remember Tuesday? Not well. Oh, right; Tuesday after school we went to get the estimate for fixing K's car and someplace else and I've been making a million phones calls every day to get that ball rolling. Another fire to be putting out. In the meantime, I'm going through this annual end-of-school job I have, The Dreaded Obligations, which always puts me about an inch from the edge of the precipice, if you know what I mean. It makes me go home every summer feeling like the only people I work with in that school are screaming fucking morons. I don't care for this feeling, and would not like to have it anymore. And as I've mentioned, the Martian made random changes this year in a system that was working, and that was pissing me off. All the while, the gut pain train rolls on. Oh, and the toothache, I think I wrote about that.

I have body issues, and not just the kind where you think you're too fat or too skinny. My body issues are making me very sad. I left work early yesterday because of the pain. But the good news was that at about 6:15, when last night's storm was just about revving up, K came home, having done some group work with classmates on campus but then skipping her class for the night. Let it thunder, who cares.

Today. I was going to be leaving school early for a 2:15 Resnick appointment for the whole gut thing. Then the Obligations began. In brief: one of the changes that the Martian made was to restore a procedure that was eliminated years ago because in 1990, it pushed me over the edge and I had to leave school one morning a sobbing blob. Now that, let me tell you, was depression. So each time this year that a teacher asked me about it -- asked me to drop whatever I was doing and sign something for them -- I sweetly said that no, it was an error, I wasn't supposed to sign anything, and it was all under control, taken care of. This morning, one of the newer teachers insisted that I sign for him, and so I did: I scrawled my initials over his whole paper, where about 20 things are listed that need various signatures. Not a good sign. Then I sat at my desk muttering to myself, also not a good sign. Across the library, the SCM could see that an ill wind was blowing.

Then the Martian calls me on the phone and says she's sending someone up, and would I, as a personal favor to her, sign his sheet? Rather than launch into a whole thing, I said Sure, and hung up. Who is she sending up? The Troublemaker. The one who keeps raising issues about the library hours and the librarians not doing anything, and who has the nerve to teach an A.P. Social Studies course that never does library research because, you know, you can Google anything you want. That shit head. I waited while he sauntered up. I signed his sheet, not as big as the first guy's, but then I crumpled it into his hand. And then I went down the the school office and this is what happened.

I marched -- there is no other word -- into the Martian's office, and I stood next to where she sat at her computer and I said -- loud -- YOU'RE KILLING ME. YOU ARE KILLING ME. YOU ARE JUST KILLING ME. And she got up, as if to close the door, and said calmly, "Well, let's talk about it," and I said "Okay!" and since I was closer to the door I closed it, slammed it, hard enough to shake the pictures on the wall. And I have no idea what she said, because at this point I was in a chair with my hands gripping my head, fingers through my hair, repeating YOU'RE KILLING ME, YOU'RE KILLING ME, and then the principal had come in through the adjoining door from his office, and then he opened the door I had slammed and told someone to get the nurse.

I was vaguely aware that he was telling the Martian not to talk to me -- I think she was still trying to clarify her position -- and then the nurse was taking my blood pressure, which, she told me later after I was better, was 190/135. I believe I did say at some point that I was having a stroke and that you -- I indicated the Martian -- are giving it to me. Anyway, I became calm and apparently returned to normal human color and although the principal suggested we not discuss the issues because they were unimportant -- what he said was that all the paperwork and little stuff was bullshit, which amused me -- I said it would be better for me to clear it up. So we did, a little, and I explained my grievances, and the nurse took my BP again and it was good, and I had a cute discussion of que sera, sera with the principal, showed him my tattoo, and he said his grandmother used to sing it to him, too, and I told him he was a mensch, which is Yiddish for a good person, a real person. This was after he had said that the only thing I had to do for the rest of the day was go home and look after myself. Which I did. And went to Resnick, who said it might not be a flare, he's doing some tests, etc.

The only weird thing now is that I think the Colleague is angry at me for blowing my top, mostly because it brings back how terrible it was when it happened in 1990, which it was, but it's not as if a person would do this if s/he had any control over it. So I need to wait a little and then call her tonight.

I'm actually a little charged up now, between writing this and also stopping to tell the Hubs the story when he came home. I have to say, though, that in general, I feel better than I have all week, as if I vented it all out. I feel spent. But I sure have a lot to talk to the therapist about tomorrow.


WATCHING GILMORE GIRLS :: ENTRY #1784

As Usual?

I'm taking a moment out of my busy and exciting life for a political rant, but it's not on behalf -- or against, for that matter -- any candidate.

Have you seen this abomination?

Still, after all this time, are we Americans no better than this? Are we still a petty, stupid, ignorant people? I understand that there are those to whom race matters; I'm not arguing with that. Each of us has a right to our feelings on any particular subject. But that there are groups of people who would make this election not about issues or policies or even the candidates' characters, instead focusing on childish taunts and slogans they should have been embarrassed to use a hundred years ago -- I am ashamed. I am ashamed that the world sees things like this and thinks that it represents Americans, and therefore, me. I am ashamed that countrymen of mine are so low as to think this is funny, or in any way appropriate.

I know that there are plenty of people who will not vote for Obama for one reason only, and that reason is that he is "black." Although I don't agree with that (and anyway, he's as much "white" as "black," maybe more, considering who raised him), I understand that this is a legitimate belief for some people. Just as there are people whose spiritual beliefs are not my own, I have to let this go. However.

Race must not be an issue in this campaign. Let us each have our own beliefs, and let us act upon them, but let no groups or individuals who publicly support McCain make Obama's African father one of the issues on which we base or decision in November. If McCain allows it, it only reduces his credibility further. (And I am not in any way saying that McCain is involved in this; I think he is a much, much better man than that. But I will be disappointed if this goes on and he does not speak against it.)

We have very important issues that distinguish our two candidates from each other. Not their wives, not their ages, and certainly not their ancestry. Let's everyone decide based on what's important to us and what we agree with, whichever choice we make. be true to ourselves, and not petty or hateful for their own sake.

That's all.

WATCHING TWO AND A HALF MEN :: ENTRY #1783

It's Frightful

The weather, I mean. Outside. It's frightful. Actually, it's kind of apocalyptic; everything is blowing around and shaking and the rain is hitting the house hard, and I really do wish that K didn't have class tonight, y'know?

Anyway. Yesterday at the SIL's was really very pleasant. Nephew who rarely speaks became quite talkative, an unusual treat for us. He was showing me his resume and the packet he just sent out to 40 (!) companies to find a job, telling us about his work, and so on. A very nice day.

This morning was terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad etc. etc., but I got over it. Yes, it was the Martian again, but once I decided not to care (and my headache went away) I was much better. I also saw the dentist this afternoon for the toothache that suddenly developed Saturday night, but no action on that yet. He thinks it's an injury and should be better in a couple of days, and if not, I have to call him to get a new filling or whatever. I am never having root canal again (so I claim today, but it may become the best option), so we shall see.

Six more mornings to get up, but I have all kinds of stuff packed into my afternoons. Tomorrow we have to get an estimate to fix K's car, and then I have physical therapy for my shoulder -- no, I moved that to Wednesday -- and Resnick on Thursday because I'm pretty sure this is a flare, and therapy on Friday, by which time I will really, really need some.

Oh, crackle. (Not snap.) Doncha just hate it when the lightning makes your hearing aids crackle? Oh wait ...

WATCHING FRIENDS :: ENTRY #1782

Hold On

I didn't write yesterday. Part of it was that by six or seven I was overwhelmed by the news of Tim Russert and all the coverage, although I kept watching until after nine. I wondered if there was actually too much coverage, but here's what I think about that. I think that if a beloved member of Congress died, the other senators and representatives would pass a resolution to honor him and name a bridge after him, because that's what they do in Congress. If a beloved colleague on my staff died, we would raise money and create a scholarship in his or name, and name the library or gym after him, because we're teachers and those are the things we do. When television journalists lose a beloved colleague, they must cover the story in as much depth as they can, because it's what they do. It's the way they express themselves. I can't fault them for it at all, but I reached a point of sadness where I couldn't watch anymore.

It's the great equalizer, of course, death. Now, it makes no difference whatsoever to Tim Russert who wins the election, or what gas costs. When Fidel Castro dies, it will not matter to him at all that he led his country into a sort of poverty-level equality all those years. When terrorists die in suicide bombings, within minutes, their cause stops existing for them. It makes me wonder why some of these people -- not Tim Russert, but terrorists and the like -- can care so much about the things in this life. I understand, of course, that their religious beliefs are different that mine, and that they think their actions here bring them rewards in the afterlife, but even so. I think that what you do here counts a real lot, but it's not a means to an end. It just is.

I've been having a bit of a pity party for myself for the last couple of days, and I think the whole life-is-a-struggle-and-then-you-die thing since yesterday is just pushing me over the edge. I want to be one of the people who don't go to doctors or take medicine, and don't need to. I said to K the other evening as I shoveled my handful of night time meds into my mouth that I wished I could just stop taking all this stuff. And then I said, Oh, I guess I will. Someday. I don't take anything that literally keeps me alive, like I would die tomorrow if I stopped taking it. I take a lot of things that make living more bearable, like allergy and gastric reflux meds, and other stuff to make me die less soon in the long run, like blood pressure and cholesterol meds. Oh, and the Crohn's stuff, of course.

I think, or maybe I'm pretty sure, that I'm having a Crohn's flare. It's hard for me to tell, because this would be my first flare since I was diagnosed and put on meds for it. I've been thinking it was something I had eaten, which I've mentioned, but it hasn't gotten better since I stopped eating it. It's gotten worse. I think that's another reason I didn't write yesterday. I don't know that I could have written without saying I'm having a flare, but I wasn't ready to say it yet. I started taking the donnatal yesterday, which is very good for the pain but makes me a little vague, and today was actually better. Even so, I decided that if I still think it might be a flare on Monday, that I will call Resnick and go see him and find out what to do.

Except about two hours ago, I was eating something, something soft ... a mushroom, I think, and a very sharp pain went through my mouth, and now I think I'll be seeing the dentist before I see Resnick, because suddenly, things are not good dental-wise. I can tell you that I am not having a root canal because I don't believe they do anything, and as far as I'm concerned, they can pull the tooth right out, but then I'm in for a whole temporary/permanent bridge ordeal, and I'm so not interested in having that suck up my summer, which is already dotted with doctor's appointments.

I can't exactly explain this; it doesn't feel like depression, really, just like sadness. (I don't think they're the same thing, although maybe they are. As I said, my head's a little not clear, and I have a headache on top of that.) I could probably use a nice visit with my new therapist, but that won't be until Friday, by which time, btw, I will have ONLY TWO DAYS OF SCHOOL LEFT. As of this moment, I have the coming full week and those last few days, so that's seven. But K won't be working at school any more this year, and I won't be bringing lunch at all since they're all half-days for kids which mean long lunch periods for staff, so I'll be going out with other folk or coming home, all of which means my mornings will be very relaxed and easy.

In other news, I won a new convert for my cult yesterday when K decided the time was right for her to start using the Bare Escentuals make-up, so we went to the mall and I got her started with it. Today, R came over with all of her stuff and the two of them were on the floor, swapping little jars and taking samples of each other's eyeshadow colors and mine. The jars are tiny, but last forever, so you can split one jar three ways and still never use it up.

Tomorrow we're off to the SIL's for Father's Day, which is not my first choice of how to spend the day, but it's the Hubs' decision, since it his day, not mine. And, as my sister pointed out, she and I never want to go anywhere, but if I've gotta go somewhere, this isn't a bad place to go. It's not far, it's a nice area, it won't be a big crowd. I do think it's kind of gift-begging since it's also to celebrate her son's college graduation and today is also the kid's birthday, but I guess the timing isn't anyone's fault. And we haven't given the kids birthday gifts in years, although I don't know if she gave my kids gifts for high school or college graduation, but if you're going to a party, you kind of have to. She had a high school graduation party for him, too. Whatever. My sister's youngest, Little K, is graduating from high school this coming Thursday, and I know what to give him because I know what I gave his older brothers and sister, so that's one's easy.

I am so rambling, which I knew I would be. I never even got to the story of what was on TV today, which was kind of strange -- I saw, among other things, the Little Rascals and My Favorite Martian, and Clarissa Explains It All. Anyway, now I am going to settle onto the couch and finally get to watch the Best of The Carol Burnett Show that came too late from Netflix for me to watch last Saturday. So I'm going to end the day with some laughs, anyway. Oh, and it's time to take my meds, too.

WATCHING THE HONEYMOONERS :: ENTRY #1781

Thursday

Tomorrow is the last day of regular classes. Final exams start on Monday, which means the kids leave at about 12:30.

I am really ready for this.

I have to say that although I like kids in general and am generally fond of the kids in my school, they're just being crazy lately. More and more, I'm noticing them doing dumb little (or big) rude things. Yesterday, I pulled open a door at the bottom of the stairwell to go through it, and a boy raced past me, slipping through the door I was holding open. He said nothing. I'm glad that this is not a common occurrence, but come on. The after school crowds we've been getting in the library are really out of control. They will not lower their voices; it's as if they don't understand the concept that their raucous laughter could be bothering anyone else. If I call their attention to it, they're back up to full volume in 10 seconds. They absolutely do not understand that it is not appropriate to use a cellphone anywhere they feel like it. I'm guessing that these are people who answer their phones or text while they're in church, assuming some of them go to church. And who do you think is calling them during the day when they're in school? Most of the time, it seems to be mom or dad. Don't they know where their children are? Do they remember their parents calling them on a personal phone when they were in class? I don't think so, it doesn't matter where they came from. I do think that part of the problem here is that many of our kids are being raised by parents who were raised in other cultures, but hey, I'll bet mom and dad toed the line when they were in their 65 student classes in Mother Russia, or the Ukraine. It's as if they come here and feel like all bets are off, and now they have to stand up for themselves at every conceivable moment, even when they don't. (What do you mean, I have to return the library book? I am not finished with that book! Why do I have to return it today? Because you're graduating from the school next week, bub, which takes away your right to use our library. Got it?)

Okay, a mini-rant. I am also tired of picking up their empty (or not) water bottles. And yesterday after school, I found that walking up to a kid on a cellphone and saying "Oooh, I like that one; I'll enjoy using that," was pretty effective in getting them put away. When I made a loud announcement that I would be taking all cellphones I saw for my own from that moment on, I also told them that I would appreciate it if someone would use an iPhone because I really want one of those. (Which I don't, actually, but maybe ...)

No, I don't want an iPhone, just an iPod touch, but K is really itching for that new iPhone coming out in July. It's faster, smaller, and cheaper. Sounds like a good deal. It probably costs the same as an iPod touch at this point, but I'd have to add on the monthly phone bill charges, and I wouldn't even want to use it as a phone, although Internet wherever I go would be nice. Some random workers were in the library today -- not roofers -- and they said that we're getting wireless in here soon. I'll believe it when I see it, but that would certainly make an iPod touch a lot more useful, since it uses Wi-Fi for Internet access, so I could use it here. I think. Who knows. It'll probably be some bizarre encrypted network that only dogs can hear.

My quiet, yet insane, obsession with the bento is amusing me. It's not like this is something you can do all the time, because you can basically only do it for lunch, which is a self-limiting activity, and I can't imagine collecting bento boxes (which some people do) because hey, it's just me and it's just lunch; how many could I use? But I've read every inch of every website, and I'm somehow disappointed that the PTA is providing lunch for the whole staff tomorrow, because that means I can't bring my own lunch to school. Am I a lunatic, or what?

Including tomorrow, I have to get up eight more times in the morning for work before the school year is over. I don't know if K is working tomorrow -- it's pretty much the last day she can -- but getting up without her being up too has been just lovely. Although my alarm is set for 6.00, I've been waking up between 5.30 and 5.45, which means I can get in the shower before the Hubs is even up, and then I have a nice big chunk of relaxing time. This morning, I realized I was all ready to go at 6:30, so I went to Dunkin Donuts and got a lovely iced latte and came back home and drank it there. I even saw the first few minutes of the Today show, which is not a normal workday occurrence for me, but I had the time, since I didn't have to stop for coffee.

Otherwise, not much happening here. Wonderful Niece is coming over tomorrow so we can finish something for the gala couples' shower on the 28th. All I can say is, any time I get to see W.N. is a good thing.

WATCHING FAMILY GUY :: ENTRY #1780

On To the Rest of My Day

(There was an earlier entry today, but really, it's not worth it.)

So, it's about 7:50 a.m., and K calls to say she's been in an accident. (Shit.) She sounded okay and said she was okay, and said there wasn't much damage on the car, but she didn't really know what to do, so I said to get all the other person's information, call the police, yada yada yada, and call me back. She hasn't called back yet. I don't know if she continued on to the gym or just went home. I really hate to think of damage on her six-week old car. I also really really hope it was the other person who hit her. And certainly, the second I heard the word "accident" my guts went into overtime. While I was on that excursion, I ran into the Martian V.P. in the hall and tried to explain to her how degrading it is to have to call someone whenever I have to go to the bathroom, which is her plan. It would be degrading for anyone. I don't think any of this is personal, I just think it's all stupid.

Later (since I'm writing the rest of this roughly twelve hours after I wrote the previous paragraph.) I still haven't seen K's car because she had already gone off to class by the time I got home, but I talked to her later in the day and emailed here and there, and it does seem to have been her fault, but I don't think it's a big deal. It was one of those merging-onto-a-highway things; the car in front of her stopped but she was looking back and she went forward and bumped it. It's the accident that I think everybody has once, and she's driven for seven years now without any accidents at all. I don't think this is even worth reporting to insurance, but she did call the police and so there will be a report. She said she felt bad because the car in front of her was full of Mexican men, and now she's afraid she's responsible for their being deported. Now, for all we know, they're all here legally, so I think that part's an over-reaction, but there ya go.

And last night's epic thunderstorms knocked out the rail line that goes into the city from R's town, so before 8:15 this morning, I'd heard from both of them by phone, which is not a great way to start my day. (R just wanted me to check the NJ Transit website for information.) I also emailed with her later, so the day turned out relatively okay for both of them, but boy, am I tired of putting out fires. I must say though that they pretty much handled their own fires today, they just felt compelled to share them with me.

So, karma. I've been thinking a lot about karma today. It's a concept that really has a place in many religions and cultures. I believe the Christian equivalent is divine retribution. My Orthodox Jewish grandfather and his mother, I know, believed that by doing mitzvahs (good deeds) in this life they would earn their way into heaven, so to speak. I tend to believe that what goes around comes around, or, as it was better put by John Lennon, instant karma's gonna get you.

But true karma, I think, means that your actions in this life will determine in what form you will return in your next life. So I'm trying to figure out in what form my sister's first husband, the one I call here Satan J, could possibly return. At the moment, I'm thinking that his most likely scenario is that he'll be convicted of a crime he didn't commit and then be continually raped in prison for as long as he lives, which should be a long time. He is a vile and worthless human being masquerading as the nice guy next door. I don't wish him illness or ill health in this life -- although he's already got that -- but I do hope that somehow he will reap what he has sown.

Heavens, I am just full of the cliché tonight.

My bento box lunch was just adorable, and very filling. Oh, the sites to look at, if you're so inclined, are laptoplunches.com and justbento.com. When I was putting tomorrow's lunch together just before, I also made tamagoyaki, which is a kind of Japanese omelette served cold in a bento. I haven't eaten it yet, but I'll let you know. Yes, I actually prepared food from scratch. It happens.


WATCHING FAMILY GUY :: ENTRY #1779

Don't Read This Entry

This is just another entry about the troglodytes at school and their let's-not-let-Chai-go-to-the-bathroom policy, so it's not even worth reading, but I wrote it this morning and I'm posting it because come next fall I'll need to read something to refuel my anger towards them and this'll be here. Oh wait, I'll just have to talk to them to refuel my anger. Whatever.



It's 8:08 here at my desk, and I thought I'd share with you all the joy that has already been my morning at B-Town High School.

First, the SCM is out and we all knew for days that he was going to be, because he had a dental emergency on Sunday night and the first appointment he could get was for Wednesday. (Don't get me started on him.) And the last two days have been a shitstorm for the three stooge crew that sorts out substitute assignments and class coverages, because of the heat. Anyway, I knew the SCM had called in his absence and requested a sub well in advance. I got to school at 7:00 and went to the office to sign in; the stooges work there before school starts. This happy little group consists of the secretary who is in charge of coverage and who is supposed to be doing this job by herself, another secretary who has an incredibly inflated sense of self-importance and who knows how to improve any procedure anywhere, as long as she can get her hands on it, and the teacher whose duty is early-morning office. I signed in and asked brightly "So, how does it look for me today?"

And they all looked like somebody died, and told me that there is no one to cover for the SCM today. They will, however, get someone to cover so I can go to lunch, and they have somebody for third period. I remind them that I don't need anybody in the morning, because Media Girl and the library secretary are there to cover for a moment during the morning. I need someone for period 6 (lunch) and 7 and 8, when I am alone. They tell me again that it's a bad day and they don't have anyone.

Now, last time I told them that if I didn't have coverage and I had to go and someone else wasn't there, I would probably crap in my pants. I felt that time that they needed a good image to work with, and it was clear that they still had it. The genius, the one who had no business being there anyway, asked if anybody is even in the library periods 7 and 8.

"What, you mean kids?" I asked. "Of course." She wanted to know why their teachers couldn't stay with them. "If they come with a class, that's what happens. But they don't always come with their classes." Now she is wide-eyed, never heard of such a thing. "You mean kids just come to the library alone?"

Yes, Virginia, there is a library. A teacher gives a kid a pass so the kid can finish some work, look something up, and hey -- USE A LIBRARY. I explained this, minus the sarcasm (believe it or not) and said, as if to a very slow four-year old, "Yes. That's what we do." She is flabbergasted, and the teacher on morning duty is rolling her eyes at this dope.

My big payoff though was asking the attendance lady if in fact she had told me that her sister had Crohn's and she said, no, it was her mother. "Oh," I said, "and when she had to go, could she wait?" And I got no answer.

The upshot is that it turns out there was a sub for the SCM after all, but only for the morning, so he's over in Fiction straightening out the shelves. They claim to have someone for the afternoon, as well as a permanent solution for the future. We shall see, my chickies, we shall see.


WATCHING TWO AND A HALF MEN :: ENTRY #1778

VOLCANO HEAT!!!

On a trip to DisneyWorld some years ago, we visited Mickey's House, which was a new attraction then, and in the kitchen, the cartoony lop-sided old-fashioned stove had three settings for the oven: Low -- Medium -- VOLCANO HEAT!! It was like living in Mickey's oven today.

Yes, I was indoors mostly, but just the brief trip outside to get home and then do an errand or two wiped me out. I rescheduled physical therapy; no point in doing that today.

Otherwise, I'm having cable-box problems and getting no help from the cable people, who said the dreaded words "We'll have to send a technician." Bullshit to that. Maybe it'll work tomorrow. (My cable box turns itself off at 5:45 am and will not go back on for love or money. It wasn't working yet when I left for school at 7:00, although K said it came back on by itself later.)

My new thing, in the meantime, is that I'm looking into the idea of the Bento Box, which is kind of a lunchbox used in Japan, although that's a very general description. You can get an idea of what it is here. Roughly, it's using a set of nesting boxes or containers to pack a healthy, balanced lunch that is also somewhat artistic. I found lots of websites about Bento for children, which I guess is how they're often used, making bunny sandwiches and so on, but adults use them, too. I'm trying it first using a Rubbermaid-like system that I got after school today, but if I can pull this off I'll get a better set that I found on a website I can't link to right now, but I will post it for you if it works. I just finished making my lunch for tomorrow, all in a nice little box. Instead of a sandwich, I made two little wraps with tortillas, one with turkey and swiss and one with ham and swiss, and cut them so they look like sushi. I have cheddar cheese cubes and crackers, and in one of the extra little compartments hummus, and melon chunks in the other. It's supposed to be relaxing to prepare your food attractively, not to mention the food is better for you/me than a lot of the other stuff you/I eat. All I have to do in the morning is put the freezer pack in and decide what bag to use to carry it.

So that's lunch for tomorrow; dinner tonight is anybody's guess. I'd rather not eat than go out in the heat to get something. K's taking a little nap, so I guess we'll decide what to do when she wakes up. I'm thinking anything that's not hot.

WATCHING THE GOLDEN GIRLS :: ENTRY #1777

Hot? Is This Hot?

Heavens to Betsy, it is. According to the little weather ticker at the bottom of my browser, it's now 97 degrees, down from a high of 103. One hundred and three degrees Fahrenheit. This is not June weather, my dears, but really, what is anymore?

I shall share with you the glory that was public education today, but first this. If you have ever had a colonoscopy or are ever goingto have one -- so that's every last one of you -- you must read this. Not only is it a 100% dead-on account of what the experience is, it's Dave Barry, so it's pee-in-your-pants funny.

I am off briefly for physical therapy for my feet. Now, even I think this is overkill, but I'll go, once, anyway. I don't know if I have time in my life for more than that. The orthotics help, and I'm good with that. (Unless they do some sort of massage or something that really feels good, in which case I'm all in favor of my health insurance paying for foot massages. I have to pay for pedicures myself.)

I went to the little mall after school because that's where the big Chico's is, and I got an outfit to wear to the couples' shower at the end of the month. And I did it smart this time. Instead of buying clothes and then trying to figure out what kind of shoes to get, I wore my tan Merrill sandals and bought an outfit that goes with them. Score. Then I went to the big mall because that's where Sephora is, and I wanted to pick out a flavor of Philosophy body scrub. Except they didn't have the actual flavors (like vanilla, cinnamon, gingerbread) only the perfume-y scents and they were no good for me. So I'll just have to pick a flavor I like, all of the above, actually, and get it from QVC. Because what I need in my life is More Product.

Ah, I see by the clock on the wall that it's a quarter to six, so I'm off to see the feet people. The heat story is to be continued upon my return.

.
.
.

I'm back. For whatever that's worth.

So, it was hot. The kid whose schedule was supposed to take over the computer lab never showed. I mean, he was in school, but in each of his regular classrooms, when the teachers asked him if it was okay there, he said it was. He's apparently not a complainer, although I guess someone is on his behalf.

Rooms were hot, rooms were air conditioned. It was pretty much a random thing; even one side of the new building, which has central air, didn't work until the afternoon. Most of my school was built in the forties and fifties, before anyone was even thinking of putting central air anywhere except movie theatres. Kids were going to the nurse's office in droves and then getting picked up to go home. I don't know how many people on the staff went home sick. One of these was the SCM, who went home with a toothache; once again, I had trouble getting the V.P. to understand my situation and provide coverage, but it ultimately worked out. (I had asked her what I should do if no other teacher was there and I had to go to the bathroom, and she said to call her. I was imagining the announcement in the office following my phone call: "Hey, Chai has to go the bathroom!! Can anybody go up to the library and cover for her?" And since the answer would be No, since nobody there puts himself out for anyone, it would have been twenty minutes before the Martian herself made it up there, by which time disaster would have struck. Although the lawsuit for that would have been a beauty.)

Every neighboring town declared last night that their schools would only be open for a half day today, and half already called a half day for tomorrow. B-Town, not so much. At 2.00 today, they declared that we would have a 1.00 dismissal tomorrow at the high school only and only for students. But I'm guessing that a lot more kids and teachers both will just stay home. If we don't have enough kids in -- I don't know what the number is -- the state will not consider it to have been a school day, in which case they could have used the final snow day in our calendar after all and given us the day off. It's an interesting gamble. We'll see what happens.

Okay, I must eat. I don't feel like eating; I never do when it's hot like this, but I already have the headache. This is how I lost a ton of weight many years back; it was a hot summer and I was out of air conditioning a lot so I couldn't eat. I only stopped looking skeletal when I got pregnant the following summer. And of course I can't lose that way again, nor would I want to, but it's worth remembering. I'm not losing an ounce tonight, because I think I'll faint if I don't eat something within the next five minutes.


WATCHING MASH :: ENTRY #1776

Here's a question:

Since when do people get to vote on whether other people, or groups of them, should or shouldn't have the same rights as everyone else?

The question is really backwards, because what has happened in the history of this country is that sometimes people have gotten to vote on giving other people rights (not taking them away), like women getting the right to vote, or in another well-known case, when states used their laws to deny basic rights to certain groups of people, the federal governement has attacked them with weapons (the Civil War), defended them with armed guards (think school desegregation), or simply said "This is the way it is from now on" (enforcing voting rights in the south.) So how does it happen that the people of California (or anywhere else) get to decide if gay people can marry?

There are marriage laws, judges interpret the laws. They saw the laws have got to apply the same to everyone, then case closed, no? We actually vote now on whether some people should be treated, as a class, differently than some other people? When the hell did the put that in the Constitution? (I never said I wouldn't rant about other stuff, just about the election.)

I've said it before: gay marriage doesn't hurt a single person. (I'm not talking about pedophilia, which is perpetrated mostly by men who consider themselves straight.) Not a single married person, not a single child, not anyone. People who think that if children see gay people happy it will entice them into that "glamorous" life, I'm sorry, have got their heads up their asses, or else, for some reason, they are people to whom gay life seems glamorous. It's not glamorous, it's just life. Taking out the trash and helping kids with homework is no more intrinsically interesting for gay people than it is for anyone else, and no one is going to be enticed into being gay if s/he isn't going to be anyway. This is not like changing political parties where you study the issues and make a conscious decision. Switching sides in the homosexuality debate is all about the ick factor, as in "Ick! I'm not doing that!" and it works both ways, whether you're a gay kid someone's trying to "turn straight" or a straight kid succumbing to the fabulous attraction of a gay life, including all the legal penalties and potential hate crimes. I'm reading these stories about people thinking that maybe, maybe they can finally have the legal commitment with their partners that they deserve to, but now wait, everyone else gets to chime on on who you can sleep with. It's disrespectful and degrading, for all concerned.


WATCHING L/O:SVU :: ENTRY #1775

Feeling A Bit Crohnish

Ah, me. Not a terrible day, nothing like I was during that month this past winter that I always refer to as When I Was Sick (as if it's the only sickness I've ever experienced), but enough to take note of. That week of eating quinoa and beans for lunch did me in. And you know, when I write it out like that, I want to say "Quinoa and beans? How stupid actually am I?" Ah, me.

Earlier today, the empress wrote a bit about the upcoming election and reminding us that we are all friends here. I think it was a good thing to write, probably especially for me, since I tend to go off on political rants (although never politically on a diary buddy that I can recall.) Anyway, despite my reputation at work as the screaming liberal on the staff -- and I was sure surprised when I found that out a couple of years ago, as in Who, me? -- I don't see myself ranting much in the months to come. Unlike a variety of candidates in the past, I don't have any problems with John McCain that would bring me to rant level. I don't agree with him on several things, but that's part of the process; otherwise, I don't dislike him and I'm not repulsed by him in any way (see 1968 Richard Nixon for that). No problems unless, as I've said, he picks Huckabee or a Huckabee clone as his running mate. So now we each pick our candidate and life goes on, and we can all get along.

There's a heat wave, a tropical heat wave, sweeping by us here. It's about 6.30 pm now and 98 degrees. It's going to stay with us through Wednesday, we hear. I've already been told that for one reason or another, the library's computer lab, where the temperature is a constant balmy 60, maybe, is being commandeered for use by a boy who must have air conditioning for a medical condition -- don't ask -- and they don't think the room air conditioners in his classrooms can meet the need, so all of us classes are being re-routed to us for the first few days of the coming week. I must say, that's a new one on me.

I got a call this morning from the SIL inviting us to a barbecue next Sunday, which is Father's Day, the day after her son's birthday, and also a celebration of his recent college graduation. Boy, you'd think after all this time she'd know that her brother and I are recluses, not to mention it's Father's Day for him, too, and maybe he'd rather not spend it with her goofy in-laws. Anyway, it's his family so it's his decision. The girls want to go if their grandparents are coming up for it, and I can't blame them for that. Having lost my parents, they are very keenly aware that every moment they spend with their other grandparents is a gift. They will pretty much go anywhere or do anything for them because, as each of them has said, what wouldn't they give to be able to spend an hour with Jack or Shirl? Sometimes they're very good kids.

And there I am. I starting reading something by David Sedaris the other day; I don't know how I managed to miss him so far. It's like reading my own writing, if I had been raised as a gay boy in a family of sisters in the south. Must try to get my hands on Me Talk Pretty One Day, which I think is his first and best known one.

And there you have me. I bought no make-up. I have finished my Chinese food, and frozen yogurt awaits.


WATCHING Y9OUNG FRANKENSTEIN :: ENTRY #1774

A Drier Day

Well, no water in the library today. As per usual in our school system, and I think in most government-related entities, we hire the lowest bidder. This is why every building is crap, but it's Board policy, and for all I know, state law. It's not a good plan, but it's all we've got.

Today was more just gearing up for the end of the year. As I was literally shutting down the library today, one of the kids who never handed in that project (that was due two weeks ago) asked me if he could get the required sheet from his locker and hand it in now. And I told him that the moment he left the library, I was going home. Hello. I did say I would take it on Monday, since I'll grade it if he didn't, but I'm guessing the late penalty is going to be a killer.

I've been on the phone for it feels like ever, first with the Sibs, then with R, then with the Sibs again. Then with the Sibs again. There's a big Bare Escentuals event on QVC tonight/tomorrow, and we needed to get our priorities straightened out, or more precisely, our inventories. She and I will sometimes get these multi-piece sets because we share with each other what we don't need, or with the next generation of BE users, which currently includes R, Wonderful Niece, and Good Guy Nephew's fiancee. K says she can't justify expensive make-up now, but will join the fray when she starts teaching, which I think is awfully sweet of her since she must be seeing who actually pays for a lot of the stuff. (The girls do buy their own, but we're generous mommies.) Anyway, I've got my list straight, and as it turns out, I need absolutely nothing. That should make watching the shows something of a personal challenge, I think.

I got a call today from the cardiologist's secretary reminding me to make my annual follow-up appointment for July. Cripes. I think I'm in that doctors' office every five minutes, since all of my doctors -- or most of them -- are there. I just saw the podiatrist this morning, and of course, I make regular visits to Resnick there, and I have my semi-annual check-up coming at the end of this month. They should name a chair in the waiting room after me.

(I once asked them at the ear-nose-throat doctor's office if I had the thickest file out of all their patients, and the nurse hefted my file and said she thought so. These are the good people who found my brain tumor, and who do the regular maintenance on my sinuses.)

So did something happen today? I just put MSNBC on, but all I'm getting so far is silly news.

WATCHING MSNBC :: ENTRY #1773

We Almost Lost the Civil War Today

So we're all there in the library, minding our own library business, when the waterfall started to gush. It was 9.00. Water was pouring down the back wall in sheets, falling back behind the bookstacks and running out underneath them, soaking the carpet into puddles. Within minutes, drops started falling from the ceiling into the puddles, splashing up onto the lowest shelf each of about four bookstacks, all in the American History section.

Oh, btw, no rain today, not a cloud in the sky.

Our two-pronged approach was to call the office for the head custodian pronto, and to start pulling books off those bottom shelves. Media Girl made the call, and then she joined the SCM and me in the book-saving process. Within minutes, the custodian was there, went up on the roof to see wtf was going on, and came back with this report:

There were roofers up there, trying to locate the leaks in the roof. They thought a really good way to do this would be to flood the roof and see what happened.

The flood slowed down a bit, and I beat it down to the principal's office and told him we were in semi-crisis stage because, although the water was slowing down, it was still coming, but we had saved the books. He was like "Huh?" and I told him that the roofers had flooded the roof. And he was all "There are roofers here?" but not puzzled and duh-like, more pissed-off, because the roofers were there without his knowledge or permission. He asked when the flood had started, and I looked at my watch and said "Twenty minutes ago."

He had been just about to leave the building for a meeting at the Superintendent's office, but within another twenty minutes, the principal, the superintendent, and the super's assistant were in the library telling the roofer to turn off the water and not to make any damn holes in the ceiling (which had been his plan.) The roofer was kind of dopey, hardly a surprise to anyone concerned. He had been authorized to repair the roof in the summer, when there were no kids in the building. He had also been authorized to come by this afternoon and look the situation over, no more.

As far as we go, they shop-vacced up the water and left fans going to dry everything off, and we have the whole section blocked off. Something in the area of maybe 800 books, starting with North American native peoples and ending somewhere around the Cold War, are on various carts or tables or the tops of nearby low bookstacks. It'll be like putting a really big jigsaw puzzle back together.

So, how was your day?

WATCHING FAMILY GUY :: ENTRY #1772

WHAT??

Seriously, WTF is the deal with Hillary Clinton? I listened to her whole damn speech last night, which first let me say thank you to MSNBC for cutting off John McCain, whom I think has a funny voice, and then Hillary's speech was pretty damn good and then SHE DID NOT CONCEDE. I smacked myself right in the head. And then I fell asleep for Obama's speech, but had one last bit of clarity just before so I set it to record and I'll watch it later. Sheesh.

In other unexpected news, I had such a nice day today, and before you ask, yes, I was at work. For one, I didn't see a single administrator, or speak to one, which is always a good thing. I had relatively little actual work to do today because I had to be at my desk for overdues purposes, but this was happening very sporadically, so I had to find something else to keep me busy.

I began to write.

Now, I write all the time, or at least every day, as you know, but this is a little different. A couple of years ago, I mentioned a book I had written which was a collection of my family stories. I had tried to write my family stories many times over the years but I never had quite the right hook to start it off, until one day, I did. The hook was that I had to write the stories as if I were just telling them. Although I write, I would have to say that I consider myself a storyteller rather than a writer. Once I got that, everything flowed right out of me.

Ahem.

Because it is also said that you should write about what you know about, I always figured that in that magical future time called someday, I would write a novel about Bizarro Town High School. I have the structure of the novel all worked out, I have a series of events I want to write about, all of it. But I could never get it going. Fiction just ain't my bag, baby. I started thinking about it today for some reason and I totally had one of those "I coulda hadda V-8!!" moments. I don't need to try to write fiction. I just have to tell the stories.

I made a list of stories to tell, although I need to get input from a few other people on that, and I need to look through the old yearbooks for inspiration. So far, though, I have a list of nearly 60. Some of them would be very short, maybe a page or two, and some would be longer. Some would probably be funny, and some would not. They are not so much true as they are tru-ish; these are things that I remember because I was there or because someone who was there told me about it. I won't claim that they're true because I don't want to be that Frey-guy who was on Oprah. But I didn't make them up, either.

I wrote three today, I think, although editing will one day be required. This was exciting and fun. I'll let you know how it works out. I'm off to a dinner with E, the Chum, and the Other Chai; I'll post when I get home.

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Home. I'm so glad I went; I almost didn't. I've never really been someone with a group of girlfriends, but that's what this is like. There's a lot of laughing going on at the table. It was lots of fun.

So now I need to post this and *sigh* think about something for lunch tomorrow because I don't think I can eat one more day of school cafeteria food. Maybe I'll just make a turkey sandwich and stuff it into my jacket pocket in the morning; I've really developed this thing about not wanting to carry anything into school except one cup of coffee. And a flash drive.

What day is this anyway, Wednesday? I have no idea what's on TV tonight, but I should probably just watch Obama. As far as I'm concerned, he's okay. He's not my favorite candidate of all time -- who was? Let me think -- but he's okay. There are few things that I specifically do like about him. There used to be things I liked about McCain, but I'm not loving him so much anymore. I also want to see which V.P. candidates each of them picks. If McCain picks that Huckabee guy, I have to buy property in Canada immediately, because if McCain dies and Huckabee becomes president, I'm totally screwed.

Okay, now I'm thinking. I supported Hubert Humphrey in 68, but I was too young to vote. I have voted for McGovern (72), Carter (76, 80), um ... Mondale (84), Dukakis (88), Clinton (92, 96), Gore (00), Kerry (04). Gee, not such a swell bunch, huh? Looking back, I guess I'd have to say my favorite in this group was Bill Clinton. Not so thrilled with him now, but then, yes. And I liked Gore a lot. I will say that I was not terribly, terribly opposed to Bush Sr. either. I also liked Ford, although I didn't think he was particularly effective as president. Johnson and Nixon both scared me, and Reagan was too slick for my taste.

Okay, now I really am posting this because it's already past my bedtime.


WATCHING CNN :: ENTRY #1771

Ai Haz a Hedake

If only the LOLcats ruled the world. Oh, it's not as if I haven't seen their telltale spelling on any number of student projects recently. It's just that I long for a simpler world. A world in which my place of work does not give me continual headaches.

I did write today's debacle all out for you, but I decided to spare you the gory details after I spilled them all to my sister. I felt better then, although in truth, today did not stress me out, it just pissed me off. First, I was "observed" by someone who may actually be a moron in the technical, traditional sense; his best moment of the day was after I had explained to him that I felt I was not being treated respectfully and he asked me several times to explain why, he said "I'm hearing you, but I don't understand you" and I said "Then you're not hearing me." Oy. An idiot.

So I took a bit of time later in the afternoon and wrote out my entire retirement speech. Yes, I have three years to go; sue me, it was very cathartic. I read it to my sister after school and she said I could read it to her every single day until I retire, if I want, but I shouldn't make the speech when the time comes because it will scare young teachers. Hmm.

Anyway, right after school there were five or six kids who came in to discuss the grades I gave them on their projects. Those who had technical problems have until Friday to fix them. Those who didn't do it right? I don't think so. If, in a class of 30 bright kids, one chose not to do it, three got B's or B+'s, 25 got something in the A range (A- to A+, and even a couple of A++'s for doing the extra credit), what can the one kid who got a D really say? Clearly, the instructions made sense to most people in the room. She didn't listen, she didn't read the rubric, she just didn't do it right. I am sad for her -- she was at the edge of tears as she sat at my desk listening to me explain the grade to her -- but I also think that in the future she will listen and do things closer to right. As for the few in some of the other classes who understood the assignment but chose to do it in some never-before-imagined way, I just don't know. I am not clairvoyant; I have no idea where their work is unless they uploaded it to the folder I told them to upload it to. (Yesterday at lunch, one of the science teachers was telling us that in response to some boy's comment, she said to him "Oh, are you clairvoyant?" and he said "Who's she?" Nice to know that everyone else in the class laughed. Advanced level juniors should have some SAT vocabulary under the belts, I think.) Anyway, I asked one boy who swore that he turned the project in where exactly he had uploaded it to, and he said he didn't know. I told him that I was flattered that he thought I could find it no matter where he had put it on the school network, but I can't do that. He has until tomorrow to bring it to me on a flash drive.

Okay, so I'm watching CNN, wondering if they're putting Hillary on live, but they say they're putting Obama on live. As I type, he has four delegates to get to clinch the nomination, down from six about twenty minutes ago. Looks like tonight's the night. I'll have to go to his website tomorrow and order my bumper stickers.

WATCHING CNN :: ENTRY #1770

Take Two

I wrote an entry at school today that turned out to be quite morose, which was not my intention when I started writing it or when I took the pictures to go with it. So here are the pictures:



This is my desk at work, which I rather like, unlike a lot of the other stuff in that joke they call a library. *ahem* Anyway, my desk is nice and big and has lots of drawers and a lot of room underneath to hide stuff. I could sleep there, a la George Costanza.


These are the shelves behind my desk, all for my own stuff, which I really, really like, because in the old library I had two horrible sets of bookshelves that were 30 year old shop-class rejects. I have lots of nice room now for all kinds of stuff, books, and the I.D. card system and book processing supplies and the four volume set of the Dewey Decimal system.



And, oy. This is what I see when I sit at the main part of my desk (not the side part where the computer is.) Is this just the stupidest thing you ever saw? There are seven such pillars in the library, but this one is the most strategically placed. People walk in the door (on the right end of the picture) and kind of just disappear. That would be the same people I'm supervising, and whose parents expect me to guarantee, more or less, that they will come out of my library alive and in the same condition they were in when they came in.

So there, those are my library pics for the day. Other than that, I've done little besides argue with medical billing people and/or health insurance people, and go back to the supermarket for more Greek yogurt, which is apparently my newest food obsession. Try it. Fage yogurt, with honey. Mmmm good.

I'm off to nuke me some dinner.



WATCHING GILMORE GIRLS :: ENTRY #1769

Catching Up

Not that I've done anything worth catching up on, but it's been a couple of days, so here I am.

Let's see.

Oh, I've been having some gut issues, but I think they're all due to some changes I made in my diet, so I'm unchanging them back, and things are a little better. But between that and allergies, I've been not the clearest head on the block. However, I remembered to use magic Afrin about an hour ago, and my sinus headache is ebbing for the first time since Wednesday. Can't argue with that.

We had a lovely lunch today with the Sibs and Wonderful Niece. I don't know how we let the getting together lapse for so long, although I suppose the three of them were away at school here and there for a period of years, so maybe that's it. But it's wonderful when we're together. The only thing missing is Good Guy nephew, but including him would require including his fiancee, which would require including W.N.'s husband, which would lead to inviting Little K, and really ... just can't do that. Too many people for conversation, for one, and waaaay too many people from that side of the family; my kids would feel totally outnumbered. Sometimes, they just want to see their actual cousins that they grew up with, and who can blame them? And W.N., fortunately, has the sense to be independent from her husband, and doesn't feel the need to include him in everything. Nor he her; he's away this weekend doing some charity thing he does from time to time. (Not sure what it is; it either raises money for Special Olympics or involves putting on shows for Special Olympics participants. Or both.)

So, that. I've also been a little more focused on music lately than I have been for awhile, so I was tinkering with iTunes again, and also testing out the various headphones that I have. Headphones are hard for me because of my hearing and hearing aid issues, but I do have one pair that works well -- really well -- but isn't that comfortable for the long term. Anyway, something made me think of Neil Diamond so I thought I'd see how much of his stuff I had, and there was practically none. I couldn't imagine that I owned no Neil Diamond CD, so I went to check and I did, of course, but what I had was a three disc set that I remembered, as soon as I saw it, were the very first CDs I ever owned. I had resisted CDs because I figured as soon as I got into them the technology would change again (although MP3s waited a few years to come in), but one year for my birthday the Hubs gave me a Discman player and a Neil Diamond set, and I was off. I just never put them all in iTunes, so I did that and then listened on the good headphones, and you know ... it was wonderful. I expect to be blasting Neil Diamond in the car for the next week or so.

And then, to my surprise, My Fair Lady was on TV this afternoon, and oh ... I love that, too. Those songs are just incredible. Oh, and I watched Juno last night, which I enjoyed, although I don't know what all the fuss was about.

And now ... that's it. I am most emphatically not bringing my lunch tomorrow, nor will I have anything for breakfast here at home except yogurt. (I just started eating Greek yogurt, which is fantastic.) 17 days to go. Once school is over and my evenings and mornings move at a more leisurely pace, I will happily go back to preparing my own food. (Well, let's not be crazy here. I'll prepare breakfast and lunch; I make no promises regarding dinner.)

WATCHING 60 MINUTES :: ENTRY #1768