Little of This, Little of That

First, I have no comments whatsoever on the economy or what's going on with that because I don't understand a word of it, other than it's bad and bad stuff is going on. I'm not thrilled by the whole McCain trying to put off the debate because it just looks to me like he needs more time to figure it out himself. And here's an odd word on the campaign: I have seen no commercials, not for McCain and not for Obama, and heaven knows it's not for lack of watching TV. I think it's strange. It's as if neither one of them feels the need to enter the New York City market yet. (Our broadcast TV is from NYC.) Maybe McCain figures it's not worth it because he's not winning here and Obama figures he's winning here anyway, so why waste the money? I don't know, I just think it's strange.

Speaking of which, here's the strange thing that just happened to me. (It's 11:00.) The SCM and I finally had our meeting with the principal this morning about lots of things, and it went very well and all, and he assured me that he has no intention of losing any professional staff this year or next, which means the SCM will be replaced with a real librarian. YAY! I told him -- the principal -- that I had two former students in mind, and he said I could let them know because the job is going to be posted any day now.

Well, one of them is easy to reach because she and K are friends on Facebook, but I expected finding the other one to be a challenge. All I knew was that she was working at a high school in the northern part of the county, and her maiden name. I knew she had kept her maiden name after she was married, but I think she told me once that once she had children, she had taken her husband's name and I didn't know that.

I googled a list of high schools in the county, which was arranged alphabetically by the towns they're in. The first one was in the northern part of the county, so I clicked, and worked my way through the school's website. The librarian there, it seems, is my girl, who never changed her name professionally, it would appear. It may yet turn out not to be her, but it looks like I found her right off the bat. I sent off a goofy email -- we knew each other well -- and we'll see what I get back. I owe her the right of first refusal, since she asked me a long time ago -- when my other candidate was still in my Girl Scout troop, probably -- to let her know if there was ever an opening here. She may be happy and settled where she is now and won't want to move, but she deserves to hear about it first. And I wouldn't want these two people to be competing against each other because I would want them both.

I also got to teach my first class this year, which felt like ahhhhhhh....... , yeah, that's right, so that was good. Not that I had any concerns, but I was looking forward to it.

5:00

Home, and already had dinner, actually, because I was really really hungry. So.

I got email back and it was indeed my delightful student from twenty years back. We emailed back a forth a few times, exchanging what we knew about some of her classmates from back then. And she is very well situated where she is now, near where she lives, just got tenure, they're paying for classes she's taking. So she's off the list. K is in class now, but when she gets home, we'll talk about my other option. K doesn't have her email address, but can leave her a message on Facebook, so I'm thinking she could leave it Sunday night so the girl -- okay, I know, woman -- can get in touch with me at school on Monday, if she's so inclined. I mean, really, I could drive the six or seven blocks to her house right now, and if she doesn't still live there, ask her mother to have her call me, but that seems over the top a bit. I mean, the SCM isn't even leaving until the end of January.

(He said it was odd for him to be sitting in the room as the principal and I discussed his replacement. I'm sure. Get over it.)

So K is in class, and the Hubs is having dinner with a former boss, and my house, to be blunt, is a shit-hole. This was one of my mother's expressions, that when her house didn't meet her standard for cleanliness, it was a shit-hole. Here's what that meant to her: she hadn't vacuumed or dusted within the current calendar week, and the dining room table had papers and things all over it that she needed to put away. That's it. Other than the table, there was no clutter in this house. (Except, of course, in my room when I was a kid.) There was no laundry basket on the living room couch for two weeks because no one felt like bringing it down to the basement. There was no pile of clean dishes in the drainboard waiting to be put away. (My father refused to have a drainboard in the house for this very reason. You ate, you washed, you dried, you put away.) There was no trash in the kitchen waiting to be taken out because you know there's room for just one more thing, and then maybe someone else will take it out. (My father took it out every night while my sister and I were washing the dishes, so that would have been, say, 5:50.) There were no crumbs in the toaster oven because, seriously, neither Shirl nor Jack would have stood for such a thing. My house, on the other hand, is indeed a shit-hole. I just made an appointment for some cleaning people to come. I am seriously not up to doing this myself. I mean, I never wanted to before, but now that I wouldn't mind it as much, I just can't. Bending over to tie my shoes leaves me short of breath. Scrubbing the tiles in the shower are certainly out.

This feels like it has been the longest week ever, but it has also been the only full week of school I've had so far, and will have for another two weeks. No school next Tuesday and Wednesday, and the following Thursday, for the Jewish holidays, which I do not observe, so for me, they're just days off. I've already made numerous appointments, as I do.

It was chilly today, definitely an end to summer weather. It was only in the low sixties, but no sun. We're supposed to be in for a couple of days of rain now. Not that I'm looking forward to it, but my car could use a rinsing off.



WATCHING GILMORE GIRLS :: ENTRY #1863
READING: Welcome to the World, Baby Girl! by Fannie Flagg