Yeah, Frightful, or Something Like It

The weather outside is not especially frightful, certainly not as frightful as we were led to believe. It seems that we -- B.Town and a few surrounding neighbors -- are in a small strip that did not catch the brunt of the storm that is raging everywhere else on the east coast.

I just watched Up, and please do so if you haven't already. It was quite wonderful, but more than that I cannot say.

My feeling crummy during the day Thursday turned into a full-fledged Crohn's attack, intense pain included, by late afternoon, at which point I was sitting in a gymnasium in a county facility waiting for my swine flu shot. I got the shot, and then allowed myself to *ahem* release my pain all the way home by screaming my guts out, so to speak. I mananged to sleep fitfully all night and did not go into work on Friday. I'm better now, but still wrung out and sore. And nauseous often, now, in fact, so I think I will sign off and post.

Somewhat Tomb-ish For My Taste

Hey, writing in school again!

My day is being choreographed by Rod Serling. Here are the three main elements:

1. Inspectors from THE STATE are coming today, or are here today, to make sure that we have no illegal lamps or fans or tape on the wheels, or god forbid, doorstops, and anything else that THE STATE has deemed detrimental to the cause of public education.

2. The Guidance department has commandeered my library to give make-ups for last week's standardized testing, all week, periods 1, 2, and 3. Yesterday they also used about half of period 4. No one, and I mean no one, can come into the library while they're testing. (Well, I can, but no one else can use the library.)

3. Not only has the administration not solved my issue of who's going to cover the library when I have to go to the bathroom, they took away the few people that were assigned here. This was done by emailing those people about where to report for their new duty assignments. No one told me nuttin', except that the teacher who was upset about losing library duty told me.

And so it began.

The library doors are closed, because my doorstops are illegal and have been removed. It was as quiet as a freaking tomb in here, too quiet, and creepy. I don't hear hall noises, although I do hear the sound of the library door opening and noisily closing again and again. I didn't know my tinnitus was this loud during the day, or that I'm hearing as much interference on my hearing aids as I'm getting. Generally, our double doors are wide-open, welcoming. It provides nice ventilation -- I'm shvitzing in here today -- and no question about whether we're open or closed. Right now I have a big sign on a post in the hall to tell them all that we're open.

They came in today with SIX kids to test. Six make-up exams to give, for which they closed the library for periods 1, 2, and 3. Six kids who would have fit neatly into the conference room in the guidance office, the one they just had to have (and which used to be my reference section in the old library, before we moved out and guidance moved in.) Six kids who sat exclusively in the alcove section of the new library, where I shelve biography and a small collection of children's books.

Which I had to put on a cart -- the children's books -- because I needed them for a second period class downstairs, which I had to go to the classroom for, since they couldn't come here. What was neat was that I brought a USB barcode scanner and logged into my library system from there, and checked books out in the classroom. Never did that before. Anyway, I came back upstairs shortly before the end of second period and my library was ...

EMPTY. Empty, but with the doors unlocked.

You see, the testing finished early. So they left. No note, no telling the Media Aide in her office Hey, we're leaving now, so she could have locked the doors. What kind of guests are these who think they own the whole damn world? (I've been told more than once over the years by guidance counselors that they are the most important part of the school, what they do is more important than what anyone else does. This is what I'm dealing with.)

So I opened the library for third period, using the term loosely, because the doors are closed, but there's that sign, Five minutes to go until the end of third period, wondering if my fourth period library duty teacher has been re-assigned too, or if he's going to be here. Really really really needing to get to a potty somewhere; the one just down the stairs from me is unavailable, I may have mentioned, because it was against STATE regulations to have a lock on the door.

If I have no one to cover, I guess I'll close the library, go to the ladies' room, and call my association president to tell him that it may be time to start looking for that disabilities lawyer to handle my lawsuit.

Later ..

I got back from lunch to find email from the principal to the whole staff telling us that the inspection isn't happening today after all. It's been postponed, and will happen sometime within the next two weeks. Greeeeaaaat. I opened one of my doors, and propped it open with a big trash can.

My fourth period guy got here. Otherwise, I got no answer from the administration about what's going on. I did hear from a secretary (!) that all the library duty people have been re-assigned to help out in her office during their duty periods. !!!!!

Even so, I am being calm and even-tempered and all that good stuff because to be otherwise gets me nowhere at all, and can only hurt me. Even so, it's hard to believe that there are so many people who don't see what kind of jackasses they're being. All the time.




watching L & O :: ENTRY #2125
READING: Say You're One of Them by Uwem Akpan

Kids Say the Darndest Things

The saga continues.

About two weeks ago, I sent out special notices to all the kids who owed stuff: library books, sports uniforms, money to the cafeteria. They were distinctively printed on "goldenrod" paper, goldenrod being one of those words that is never, ever used outside of a school setting. (The notices were orange.)

I just had a girl come up to me, waving her notice, saying "I returned this!" I looked at it and checked things out; yes, indeed, she returned a library book last week. She got the notice two weeks ago. Did she think that somehow the notice would evaporate once the book was returned? Or that because she still had the notice, the return of the book would not register? Sheesh.

It was a weekend with mixed results, if I can call them that. Sunday morning started off with a cranky K, because I was in the shower when she woke up. How did I know when she was going to wake up? She said she always wakes up around the same time on weekends. Really? That's news to me, you know why? Because I don't care! Why would I need to notice what time everyone else wakes up?

We were having lunch yesterday with the Sibs and Wonderful Niece, but of course, everybody's various ailments got in the way, and finally we decided to pick up R, eat in our area, and then bring her home. The Sibs was opposed to that (as if she was even involved in that part of the process) because she said it was too much driving for us. Anyway, we did it; K picked her up and I brought her home, and we each got to spend some delightful time with her, so I was happy about that. The lunch itself was not stressful, and we were all settled by then, but my stomach was starting to go Crohnish, as it is today. I'm guessing that I've been eating some things I shouldn't. I'm not in major pain or anything, but some pain, and a lot of rushing around, if you get my drift.

Hold on. There's a crowd of kids standing around another kid seated at a computer. I must investigate.

.
.
.

According to my sneaky spy software, they're working on a group project. Imagine that. Crowds generally = illegal game playing.

Okay, so I had a most enjoyable ride with R,taking her home, talking about her sweetie and his family and various other items. Her knee is very, very painful (she slipped on a wet sidewalk grate last week, had it x-rayed Friday night, no breaks), so I hope her day at work is going well.

As for me, I'm sitting at my desk, Crohnish, wanting nothing more than to go to lunch and wondering if I will feel too nauseous to eat. I'm waiting for a call back from the audiologist's office. You know, I love them there, but I'll bet they're going to start running out of patience with me. I'm guessing that because I'm starting to run out of patience with them. (Thee manufacturer, btw, did indeed put new workings inside my hearing aid shells -- but they don't work -- and extended my warranty for repairs for another year.)

We never did get to go food shopping over the weekend, so we'll have to go tonight. All I can say is that kid better not be cranky. She didn't get called to sub today, so she's home, either churning out more resumes to send, or playing Guitar Hero all day.

Can't get my hands warm today. I hate that. In the old days, I'd just turn on the hot water and hold my hands there for a few minutes, but our brandy new library is the only library in America without a sink in it, 65 year old books notwithstanding. Ick. Anyway, we do have hand gel EVERYWHERE for flu prevention, but I've had some on my desk every since we moved here. So I can get clean, but it doesn't help me get warm.

Five minutes to lunch. 4:59. 4:58. 4:57 ....




watching THE GOLDEN GIRLS :: ENTRY #2060
READING: American Lion: Andrew Jackson by Jon Meacham

From Beautiful Downtown B-Town High School

Well, hello. What a strange day it has been. I started with hall duty during the state test, where I sat reading a book that made no sense to me. Afterwards, I realized that instead of picking up the book I wanted to read, which was on a shelf under my desk, I grabbed its sequel, which was on top of my desk, checked out to someone who forgot to pick it up on Friday. So I'm reading this book and thinking "Wow, it's like they started the story in the middle! Why didn't the author explain what happened before this?" Hmm. Tomorrow morning, I think I'll read the right book.

As soon as my hall duty was over, the tech came in to set up the laptop for use at my desk, and that has taken virtually all day. He finished before lunch, but when I came back from lunch, he was doing more to it. So I've been away from my desk most of the day, when there are lists of things I need to do.

It's also been a pretty Crohnish day, which sucks somewhat. No pain or discomfort, really, but many and frequent visits to the ladies'. Acupuncture this afternoon could be very unpleasant for one of us (the doctor or me), and I don't think it's going to be me.

Manicure tomorrow, which is good, because my nails are really too long to type on a laptop.

Thirty minutes to go. Tick tick tick tick ...



TWO AND A HALF MEN :: ENTRY #2000
READING: ??? by ???

Time

I just now realized that I wrote this entry at school this morning and forgot to post it. This coincided with K going down to put in a wash and finding a dead mouse in the basement. She reacted as if this was someone she knew personally. Hey, she didn't want the mice in her room, and there are no mice in her room. I went downstairs and scooped it into a box and took it outside. A mother's work is never done. Anyway, earlier today, I wrote:


Today is cousin Edie's birthday; she's 92. The unquestioned matriarch of the family now, it seems, but she is beyond knowing that. For some people, Alzheimer's comes on very slowly, but she was fine, more or less, until maybe four years ago, after which her decline was steep. The good news is that she no longer remembers the pain of losing her husband and older son. The bad news is that she no longer recognizes the son who comes to visit several times a week. But she's happy when she sees him, even if she doesn't know exactly who he is.

Ah, no intention, really, of making this sad, although it is, of course. I just wanted to say Happy Birthday, since there's no point in my calling her and saying it in person. On to something else.

Another by-product of the working out is that I'm drinking a lot more water. I don't generally like to drink water, but apparently I enjoy it after exercise, which who knew, because I would have to have exercised extensively before now to know. Dr. Resnick will be very pleased with me, I think. At the very least, my kidney function test should come out better.

And less Crohnish today, I think. I guess I ate some things over the holiday that had to work their way out of my system (which I don't mean the way it literally sounds.) It started with eating the Hubs' soup the weekend before, and continued on through rice pudding with raisins and small handfuls of macadamia nuts. Actually, I think the macadamia nuts went well. It was the finocchio that got me. (This is pronounced fenookie in our third generation half-Italian home. It's fennel. We slice up the bulbs and roast them, and then, whatever's left after Thanksgiving dinner is a snack for me. But maybe not so much in future.)

... Later ...

So now let's hope that the mouse thing isn't going to keep me awake tonight. My evenings are carefully structured to lull me to sleep, so the last thing I needed was a little adrenaline surge, not to mention a trip outside in the 35 degrees with no socks or jacket. (But I did put on shoes and a sweatshirt.) The real question is, if I'm so sleepy all day at work, why can't I just fall asleep when I want to at night? Hmmmm?


WATCHING RACHEL MADDOW ON MSNBC :: ENTRY #1925
READING: The Secret Life of Bees by Sue Monk Kidd

Jumbled

I wrote a fairly long entry this morning after I got to school, but I'm not going to post it because there's just more in there than there needed to be. The Reader's Digest condensed version is that I did get up early today to exercise, which went well, but I hadn't fallen asleep until 2:30, so I was exhausted and Crohnish. I felt basically crappy all day, but since I'm working on a pledge to smile more, I wasn't in a crappy mood. I've decided not to go to work tomorrow because I'd rather not be sick for Thursday, and I can take better care of myself at home than I can there. This way I can catch up on my sleep, Wii at leisure, bake my vegan pumpkin pies, and maybe get a chance to go find a desk lamp somewhere because not having one is driving me crazy, not to mention blind.

Ooh, that really was condensed.

I just stopped typing a minute and called in, which the above typing reminded me to do, and really, I always feel like they don't believe you for a minute when you call. Although when I would call last year and tell them that I'd be out for a week at a time, they seemed sympathetic. Anyway, I called, and I'm not going. So there.

And now I'm going to lay my weary body down. See you tomorrow.

WATCHING TWO AND A HALF MEN :: ENTRY #1919
READING: The Secret Life of Bees by Sue Monk Kidd

*sigh*

So I went to therapy, yada yada, and here's my big revelation of the day. Why is it that when I'm sick I'd rather keep it to myself instead of "being a burden" on everyone else? I've been trying to work this out for months, and I figured it had something to do with my mother, who coped much better with real illness than she did with hypochondria, which I supposed I had felt was a burden to me. Wrong! The therapist -- Ginny -- said something very simple that made perfect sense. Nothing to do with my mother. My illnesses are a burden to me. Duh. Well, they are. No wonder I'm afraid they will be to other people, too. Very simple, but I guess I never that of it that way before.

Yes, they are a burden, all this nickel and dime crap. None of it is life-threatening, but all of it is life-annoying, and I can't get a handle on it because it can literally take a different form every day. Last week an eye infection; I had no idea that was part of the mix, too. I read today that although weight loss is common with Crohn's, some people have weight gain instead. Well, I've been saying for years that I was gaining weight for no reason. There ya go.

I did get to mention y'all, though, because I told Ginny that it was the diary world people who convinced me that I'm not actually a hypochondriac (since my ailments are all real), as I always felt I was. One problem she didn't have to solve for me, so, thanks.

So, I am relatively bummed, but hey, that's why I'm going to therapy. I'm also considering talking to the doctor about a mild anti-depressant. I've never really been ready to take that kind of med before, but now, I just feel tired of struggling every damn day to feel good when my body is fighting me back. The struggle wears me out (oh hey, fatigue is another Crohn's thing, I found out today) and makes me much more susceptible to idiot interference, like anyone I feel is standing in my way or making me feel worse (aka, The Martian.)

I was good today, though; I called the hospital and got the name of the Crohn's support group and even called. The woman I spoke to was very, very nice and helpful, but unfortunately the group is not meeting during the summer. But I'll go in September, I already have it on my calendar.

I also got in nine holes of golf after a three-hole warmup game, and two games of bowling (on the Wii. You knew I didn't go outside or anything.) I'm getting much better at both of the those, but I can't play the tennis at all. I'm not only bad at it, it really hurts my arm. Oh, I even finally made another appointment for physical therapy, going tomorrow.

I think I'm going to try to get back to some reading tonight. I have to see if the eyedrops I'm using have worked well enough to clear up my vision for reading. The computer seems to be much better, so maybe the book will be, too.

Oh, I did actually take some garbage out of the basement this morning, and I bagged up a bunch of old (unmarked) videotapes. I did this to get to our old stash of vinyl record albums, so I could start getting the USB turntable I got for Christmas connected and get that project going. What I found was that almost all the record sleeves are mildewed -- ew -- although the actual vinyl records seem okay, but every album of mine that I found, I have on CD, or I've downloaded the mp3s in the last few years. Hmmm. Seemed like such a cool gift, but in reality, not all that useful to me. I only brought two of my albums upstairs: the original Broadway cast recording of Peter Pan, with Mary Martin, an album I've owned for at least 50 years, and the Temptations' Greatest Hits. I'll have to go through my John Denver more closely, but if I'm only missing a song or two from an album here and there, is it really worth the whole process? Looks like I may be working on a lot of the Hubs' albums, which he probably won't even want. (He is definitely not someone who gives a gift so you can use it to make something for him. And he doesn't listen to mp3s, so I'd have to burn each one as a CD for him, which he would then listen to and give back to me. Not the general idea.)

I am so rambling. Tomorrow, doctor, nails, physical therapy, and a trip to DSW (shoe store) if I can squeeze it in.

WATCHING FRIENDS :: ENTRY #1800
SUMMER BOOK #3: The Yiddish Policemen's Union by Michael Chabon

Not a Great Day

*sigh*

It's like it never ends. It turns out I have an eye infection, courtesy of the Crohn's. I'm not all that clear what it is from the diagnosis I got from the opthamalogist, but I'm going to make an appointment tomorrow with my sister's eye doctor, someone she raves about, and she's had some serious eye issues for a long time. I just went today to the name my internist gave me. Anyway, it turns out that there can be all kinds of eye complications with Crohn's. It's like the gift that keeps on giving.

And then there was a woman in the elevator with me, and then in the waiting room, and then in the examining room before me, who had on some kind of perfume that went right to my sinuses, so I've been in headache hell since about 2:30 this afternoon. So, other than getting K's car back all nice and shiny and fixed, it hasn't been much of a day.

I could write more, but I don't want my eyes to bulge out of my head and roll around on the keyboard.


WATCHING FAMILY GUY :: ENTRY #1796
SUMMER BOOK #3: The Yiddish Policemen's Union by Michael Chabon

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

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

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

We Return You Now ...

... to our regularly scheduled programming.

I only have to prepare at night and get up early in the morning 20 more times until summer vacation. There is a possibility of a nightly countdown here.

So, back to work today, and the SCM was out, of course, because if there is a vacation or a long weekend, he must have an extra day. I think what bugs me about this, other than the obvious, is that he knows he's taking a day, and we generally tell each other in advance if either one of us is going to do that, but he never does on these extra vacation days. I know he's get plenty of sick days saved up and he's entitled to use them, but it's always been a courtesy thing not to spring days off on each other (unless we're actually sick, of course.) So say I, so say we all.

I saw The Resnick this afternoon for a follow up to last week's colonoscopy, and all is well. He had been thinking of increasing my meds, but based on my lack of symptoms (although the test shows there is still some inflammation) he's leaving well enough alone. I also aired out my thoughts about how he and the other doctor -- the internist -- reacted when I sick in December, and he clarified that side of the story. Go me for bringing it up. Whaddayaknow, therapy really does work.

So listen to this weird thing that happened yesterday. Two weird things. I went to the ShopRite in the morning, and as I was passing it to turn into the parking lot, I saw an elderly woman standing on the sidewalk, and suddenly trip and fall over a bag on the ground. I didn't expect to be the first one to get to her, since I had to drive in and all around the lot, but it was an off-time and empty there, so I was. I helped her up, etc. and then she was okay and walking, although her knees were scraped. I thought, Oh, must be my help-an-old-lady-day. Then I got home and there was a phone call, and old lady voice, I didn't quite get the last name but she said she something like Shirley Shiller. Yes, an old lady named Shirley called me on the phone yesterday. Somehow, I knew exactly who this was, but why was she calling me? (She is my sister's first husband's current mother-in-law; let us remember that Satan J, my former BIL, has no contact with my sister and certainly not with me.) Well, Shirley did not quite know who she was calling, and when I explained who I was, she apologized profusely, but I said it was fine, fine, which it was. Seems that Good Guy Nephew is having an engagement party of sorts at the end of June, thrown by his MIL-to-be -- long story -- and this Shirley isn't sure what to wear and her daughter (Mrs. Satan J) says she needs to wear something dressier than what she was planning. Why did she call me? I think because my name and address are in the invitation stuff because people are sending me recipes -- see last week's panic attack -- and she thought I was someone else. But I have met this Shirley a few times, and she is really a doll, and I was happy to talk to her, and it felt really good talking about some normal thing with a nice old Shirley yesterday. (And the outfit she described sounds lovely. Mrs. Satan J is a jerk.) Looking forward to seeing her at the engagement party. (Excuse me, the couple shower.)

Had to turn the A/C on today, as today turned out to be the first humid day of the season. We do humidity very well here in New Jersey; it's a fine art. None of those crisp New England summer mornings, but at least, not the waking-up-in-a-swamp you get in D.C.

Well, my lunch is ready and my clothes are out, but I do have towels to fold and put away. And then I want to go to sleep. I don't care if it's eight o'clock.


WATCHING TWO AND A HALF MEN :: ENTRY #1764

And Yet Again

Once again, I am disgusted with my place of employment. Oddly, today is the day I get to voice my opinion on that, in a way, because it's the day we get to vote for (or against) the school budget, as well as for new members of the Board of Education. This year I am tempted as never before to vote against the budget, or not to vote at all. K has convinced me that I must vote, and I know I will, but I'm very tempted. Even so, I know I will vote for the budget because one of the big things in it this year is all-day kindergarten, which we should have had twenty years ago.

I am disgusted today because the SCM is out and there's a shortage of substitutes in the building, so of course, the library goes without. I need to get some kind of plan in place -- other than the principal's promise, which I already have -- that they will always cover him when he's out, because if I need to go to the ladies' room, I need to go right then, not in an hour when they can find someone somewhere to cover me. Today I'm especially pissed off, because when they called K last night to sub, they offered her the library, which she accepted, but when she got here today, there weren't enough subs, so she's in an industrial arts class for the day, and with no lunch until after the lunch periods are over. She's free the period before lunch, when they actually had the nerve to offer me that she could come here instead. So, if I want coverage, I need to screw my own kid out of her only period off? Gee, pass. They're sending someone up to cover me for my lunch, and someone for the period I'll be teaching in the lab (although if that happens, I'll be astonished.) Anyway, I'm not stressed, just pissed off at the way things are done around here.

A few hours go by ....

I spoke to the nurse, and then to a member of the staff who has a handicap, and what I need to do, it turns out, is get a letter from my doctor and then they will need to accommodate me. Coincidentally, I have a follow up with The Resnick this afternoon, so a letter I shall have. All I really need it to say is that my access to the ladies' room cannot be restricted in any way, which will mean that there will have to be someone here with me so I can go when I need to without having to choose between leaving kids in the library unsupervised and having an accident. Which will mean they have to get coverage when the SCM is out, even if they don't have enough subs for the day. We'll see how that goes. My next step may have to be to stay out whenever he does, which is something I'd really rather not do, and I can't imagine I'd have to. (For those who wonder what I would do if I were a classroom teacher ... I have no idea whatsoever. I think it would be very difficult to have Crohn's or something like it and be a classroom teacher. You'd have to work something out with your office for someone to come running to cover whenever you called. Which could never happen here, because there's almost never someone in our office when we need someone there. And since I'm not a classroom teacher, just me, that's all I need to worry about anyway.)

More to come, perhaps after The Resnick ....

Later.

So the doctor is over the moon (what a goofy expression) at my progress, and even anticipates that after the next colonoscopy, which I scheduled for May 19, he may be able to reduce my medication. Score. Also, when I explained my school dilemma to him, he freaked out just a bit, and couldn't write me the letter fast enough. He's appalled that there would be conditions under which I wouldn't be able to get to a bathroom. So clearly, he's living in a fantasy world, but one that works for me. I have my letter; I'll make numerous copies for backup and share it tomorrow.

And now I am just so tired. I don't want to do anything at all tonight except win the big lottery. Oh, first, a little news-related rant.

We keep seeing how they raided this polygamy compound to rescue the children and the women. Okay. But now they won't let the women stay with their children? WTF? Aren't they considering the women abused, too? So why are they being punished? And then there's this aspect. Even if you don't agree with their particular religion, they are essentially planning to take these children and give them to foster families to raise, and this appalls me. This is what a powerful society does to eliminate an unwanted minority: remove the children from their parents' influence and indoctrinate them otherwise. This was famously done to Native Americans in the southwest in the late 19th and well into the 20th century, and it's what was done to Jews in Tsarist Russia. So really, all kinds of un-Constitutional and stuff, not to mention a moral outrage. But I mentioned it, and remain outraged nonetheless.


WATCHING THE FAMILY GUY :: ENTRY #1728

Good News, Less Than Good News

First, the less than good news. I believe that I am sinking into a depression. There are a variety of factors here, my illness, stress-inducing family, and so on. This morning, I was feeling very, very sad, and trying to get a handle on what to do about it. I think what I need is to go back to therapy, and I even looked up my old therapist on the Internet, but I don't think going back to her is an option. Although I'm sure she would see me, the group she's in is now specializing in treating eating disorders, and I think I would feel very out of place there. They had already started to move in this direction before I stopped going, and just sitting in the waiting room was sometimes awkward, and I was always concerned about running into a kid from my school there. (Not that I would have cared if anyone knew I went to therapy, but I thought it might be very stressful for the kid to think a teacher knew she was going there.)

Anyway, I was thinking about that, and how on earth to find a new therapist, and how I feel I am without someone to talk to, as I wrote yesterday, and then a very cool thing happened. The phone rang.

On the other end was my dear Colleague, she who was formerly the library secretary and who is now banished to another office in the school. (She's not actually banished; she got promoted away from me.) She called up to see how the girls liked their trip to Paris. And stuff just started to spill out of me. I realized that she is the person I'm missing in my life. She is the one I always talked to about anything, and she to me. We've gotten accustomed to being separated, but not really adjusted to it, if that means anything. As we were talking, I couldn't believe how much I was missing her -- yes, she's only in another part of the same building, but we rarely cross paths -- and it felt wonderful to talk to her. (We do talk on the phone, but not often enough, and then it's all we can do just to catch up with each other's lives.) And then I remembered something else: her daughter, married, in her thirties, goes to see someone for therapy, based mostly on my success and recommendation that it would be good for her. So, the upshot is, I got the name of someone to go to.

It's a good decision to go to therapy, and good to have a name to start with. I don't feel like I need to dig as deep as I did last time, I just feel like I need some support for awhile. When I first got my diagnosis in January, even then I thought that I might want to go see someone after a couple of months. So that's the good news. (Being depressed is the less than good news.)

I also kind of traced back a little of what's irritating my stomach, so hopefully I will stop eating that -- edamame, which I love -- and it will clear up this little bit of a flare I seem to be having. So I felt good about figuring that out, too. I hope it's not the apples that I've started eating again, because I really like apples, and it's easier to give up the edamame. I think that's it, anyway.

(Crohn's, btw, is one of the two major inflammatory bowel diseases, the other being ulcerative colitis. The main difference between the two, as I understand it, is that U.C. occurs only in the colon, but Crohn's can affect any part of the entire digestive system, including *ahem* both ends, the mouth/tongue, and ... the other end. Also, because these are auto-immune diseases, they can also cause rheumatoid arthritis [the big auto-immune disease] reactions in the joints, particularly of the hands and feet. I could go on, but that's the basics, that's why I get sores on my tongue when it acts up. I didn't have the ankle and wrist swelling until I got very sick, but the tongue is apparently an early sign for me.)

I also undertook a pretty big library project this morning, one that we had started last year but had to put off due to the change in the library software over the summer. (I'm cataloging our video collection. We have about 900 videotapes.) So that was a good decision too, to immerse myself in work that needs to be done, is somewhat interesting, and just the right amount of challenging. I'm also weeding out old and/or never used videos while I'm at it. I'm up to about 480, which includes all the ones we got done last year, so I guess this should keep me busy until June, at least.

(Why do we still have so many VHS tapes, you wonder? For one thing, we've got them, and we don't have the budget to replace them all on DVD at once. For another, many of them won't be available on DVD, maybe ever. Not to mention that we have relatively few DVD players to go around in the building, but we still have VCR's in many rooms, and many VCR's on carts to move around. The newer or remodeled classrooms have computers connected to video projectors, so they can just show DVD's through that system, but it's not widespread enough to make our videotapes obsolete. Yet. Although anything new that we buy is on DVD.)

I do feel better than I did this morning. I can't say that what I was feeling was despair, but I felt very, very sad. Oddly, I slept very well last night, which surprised me, so that didn't contribute to the morning's mood, but I woke up feeling like I'd gotten to my last straw. Better now, some. Of course, I do still have to go home (whence I shall post this) and talk to the people who live there (or used to live there), and I do still have to spend some time in a car with them on Sunday so we can go have Easter dinner with the ILs -- mm boy, looking forward to that -- but there you go. You gotta do what you gotta do, n'est-ce pas?

(K did indeed bring me a copy of Harry Potter et le Prisonnier d'Azkaban, which I could even read, some. It made me giggle.)


WATCHING ----- :: ENTRY #1706

They're Flying Again

It's about 10.45 my time, so I'm at work, of course, and in between other things I'm doing, I'm trying to track the flight that the girls are on. The flight tracker websites are doing me dirt today. Two of them, including the one I usually depend on, say the flight is delayed, but the airline's site says they left on time, a minute early, even. Then I looked again at my favorite site, the one that shows a nice map of where the planes are in real time, and it says it can't show the map because the plane is still on the runway, but underneath that, it says that the plane is in the air and left a minute early. Come on, people! The Internets are supposed to work, you know!

So I've been on this whole tidying up kick, and I've been doing at work as well, which means my desk area and the shelves behind my desk are neat and everything is in its place. It also means that I've been tidying up the little tasks -- in library language, we call these "snags" -- that ultimately need tending to. As a result, I am 100% caught up on all my work. I have nary a book nor a video nor an audio CD that awaits cataloging. My budgets are closed for the year, so I can't do any ordering. I have no classes in today because the counseling department is sucking up our computer classroom for some career program that the entire tenth grade has to learn how to do. (I remember doing a similar career survey, not on a computer of course, when I was in eighth grade. One boy in my class got results that said he was perfectly suited to being a shepherd.)

Which means what I have left to do is read journals, annoying because I'll be picking out books to get and we won't be able to order them until maybe June or probably September. Not a good system.

Anyway, I have another health issue or two to discuss. First, you know, when I got the Crohn's diagnosis, I felt certain that I was going to be living every day for the rest of my life dealing with this as a kind of primary thing, almost the way a diabetic is always aware that he is a diabetic. This has not turned out to be the case, which is a surprise. Yes, I always know I have it, and I am always alert to what might happen, but for the most part, I am very stable, and can eat and do whatever I want that I could eat before. I'm not carrying around my Big Bag O' Crohn's supplies wherever I go anymore; in fact, today, like many days, I am back in my standard mode: my wallet in one back pocket, my Palm in the other, my cell phone in one front pocket, and my lip balm in the other. My only concession is that my daily Crohn's pills container is in the pocket with my lip balm. My default is always not to carry a bag; I can get away with this at work because I have other stuff in my desk that I might need during the day, like eyedrops and such. And of course, because I always wear jeans.

Having said that, I am seeing the resurfacing today of a symptom -- I have a couple of lesions on my tongue -- but I'm not all that worried about it. They're not really bothering me; I'm just aware of them. I guess this means that I have some increased inflammation. I did start taking one fish oil capsule a day and now I'm going to start a second (and work my way up.) But here's the other thing.

I no longer feel comfortable sharing any awareness of illness with my family. This is peculiar, and after all, you should be able to do that, but I don't at this time. The Hubs is, as you know, very caught up in being the only person who has ever been ill or ever will be (and yet he seeks no treatment or relief because he is also a martyr), and I'd rather not deal with any of this with him. (Of course, he would know if I were really sick or were going to the hospital or something.) The girls, other than being away, are my children, and again, would know if I were really ill, but I don't need to bother them with the day-to-day stuff. I don't want them to feel that every time they say they don't feel well, I counter with "Oh yeah? Let me tell you ..." because I totally hated it when my mother did that.

The strange thing is that I can't talk to my sister about this. Oh, I could, really, but what happened was that when I was so, so sick a couple of months back, she became terribly frightened and stressed and it triggered a variety of stress-related health issues for her. She's still dealing with some of them, and at the moment, her health needs to take precedence, too. So I won't tell her I'm having tongue issues because I don't want her to start to stress out and get more migraines, among other things. I'm not telling her because I'm watching out for her this time, the way she watched out for me when I needed her to.

So that leaves you -- thanks, by the way -- and I should probably make sure I talk to OldFriend at least once a week -- sometimes we let it go to two or three -- because she's a fabulous sounding board, especially for health things.

That's enough for today, don't you think? I have to wait to post until I get home after I get my nails done today, by which time, with any luck, the girls will be on American soil. I'll let you know.

5.15. They are in America. I just went out and picked up corned beef sandwiches so they can have some dinner when they get home, which should be seven-ish.


WATCHING GEORGE LOPEZ :: ENTRY #1705

O.Hai.

My tribute to the LOLcats, whom I adore beyond all reason. I have never been one for sappy cat pictures (which always seem to be posted around the desk areas where doctor's nurses and/or receptionists work; why is that?) but I love me the LOLcats. I am especially fond of Ceiling Cat, since my late BooBoo loved to sit on my bed and stare hopefully up at the ceiling, even when no one was upstairs walking around, and now that I have come to know Ceiling Cat, I have to assume that's what he was looking at. Or for.

Moving on.

Long day today. Hall duty, followed by boring boring boring, followed by endless P.A. announcements about nothing, followed by theatre-of-the-absurd email from one of our fearless leaders, followed by not leaving school soon enough. I'm going to see the doctor after school, my once-every-three-weeks visit (I wonder how long that keeps up), followed by going to R's to feed the cat, followed by dropping off her car for service. She says she will bring me something really nice from Paris. I don't actually believe it, but I deserve it. I also need to run some items through the wash for her before Saturday night. Thank god they're going away for several days next week; I really need the vacation.

And Lost tonight. I'm afraid it's getting too complicated for me to follow. I'm also afraid that when it's all over and all the questions have been answered, I'll still be sitting there saying "WTF was all that?" and I won't get it even when I know, and nobody will.

Later.

Back from my tasks in the world. The doctor (and Personality Nurse, one of his two assistants) were tickled pink with my progress, so much so, that finally I asked them if most people don't make progress like this. They hesitated, and then said it wasn't that, but it was that I was just so, so sick when they originally saw me, and my progress from there is pretty amazing to them because it's like I'm a different person. And so, my inflammation is down, he is not touching my medication, I had a bag of McDonald's fries with dinner, and I'm getting some edamame over the weekend, so there.

Now I need to call the MIL, who called for a doctor's report while I was out feeding the cat, who is cute as anything but who will not hold still for a decent photograph.

WATCHING FAMILY GUY :: ENTRY #1695

Go Me! (and a meme)

I just got home; I wrote most of my entry below at school today. I decided that when I got home I would call a cleaning service and make an appointment, and I did, so, go me. I can barely make it up and down a flight of stairs, so doing any real cleaning myself is not a consideration, not that I would want to consider it anyway. But it's nice for things to be clean, and I'm also being the good little wifey here and hopefully making it easier for the Hubs to live here without coughing up a lung every five minutes.

I made the appointment for March 17, since the girls will still be away, and I can use the weekend to tidy up so stuff isn't in the ladies' way. I'll have to take off one of my precious and few sick days, but I guess it's worth it. Maybe I can do something with my sister in the afternoon. So we'll see how that all goes.

-------------------------------

It's an odd day. Everything around me seems very loud today, but I don't think I turned up the hearing aids too loud. Almost as if I'm more sensitive to sound today than usual.

I'm feeling very tired, although I slept well, as far as I can remember, I just got up too early, as I do nearly every day. I hope I perk up some later, because R is driving her car here when she gets home from work -- seven-ish -- and then I have to drive her back home. (She's working in the city until Saturday night, staying over in a hotel, so it's a good time to get her car serviced, and anyway, she'd need it here on Saturday to get home since the trains run to B-Town but not her town on the weekends.) I don't know if the Hubs will even be home yet when I need to go drive her, and I know K will still be in class. She's getting sick, it seems, which is unfortunate since they're flying off to France next Thursday. Let's hope whatever she's got, she's over it by then. She was just on antibiotics for a few days, and they killed her stomach. But now it looks like she's just got a cold.

I'll be very curious to see what the doctor says to me tomorrow afternoon about where we go from here. The next medication, if I need it, is one that suppresses the immune system somewhat, if I understand it correctly, so I'm wondering how I would go about continuing to work in the germ pool that is any public school. Unlike most other visits, I'm not going with a list of questions to besiege him with this time. I only have one (about the fish oil), but if he starts talking new medicine, well, that'll open up a whole new can of worms.

Hey, big night tonight, Project Runway finale! I'm guessing that Christian will win, because it won't be Jillian, and Rami is way too smug. Not that anyone else cares.


So here's a meme that I got from Robyn.


MOUTHOLOGY


Q. What is your favorite fast food restaurant? A. I pretty much love fast food, although there isn't much of it I can have anymore. I do love me some McDonald's fries, as well as a Junior Cheese Whopper, no onions, no pickles. I'll have to fall back on McD's as my favorite.

Q. What is your favorite sit-down restaurant? A. Hard to say. We eat out once or twice a week, generally, at chain-type restaurants. I think the nicest restaurant I ever went to was a little Italian place in DC off of Dupont Circle, after K's graduation.

Q. On average, what size tip do you leave at a restaurant? A. At least 20%, then I round up.

Q. What food could you eat every day for two weeks and not get sick of? A. Like Robyn, I like edamame, but I've been off that for a while now. i could probably live on macaroni and cheese, and BLT sandwiches, and plenty of eggs.

Q. What are your pizza toppings of choice? A. Mushrooms.

Q. What do you like to put on your toast? A. I usually only eat toast when I'm sick, or if I'm having some kind of soft eggs. Just margarine, or if I'm sick, seedless strawberry jam.

TECHNOLOGY

Q. What is your wallpaper on your computer? A. I currently have a big Mickey Mouse on my home computer, and this centered on my screen at work.



(If it wasn't that clear, it looks like an old touristy post card that says "Greetings from New Jersey", and under that it says "It hurts our feelings when you make fun of us.")

Q. How many televisions are in your house? A. Lots. One in every room except the living room and the bathroom. So that's ... five, plus the one in the basement that isn't currently connected.

BIOLOGY

Q. Are you right-handed or left-handed? A. Right

Q. Have you ever had anything removed from your body? A. An acoustic neuroma (brain tumor), an appendix, buckets of blood (or so it seems), a couple of teeth, and two babies.

Q. What is the last heavy item you lifted? A. I'm actively avoiding that these days, so probably a load of laundry. (And after I first wrote that, a small box of books that came in today.)

Q. Have you ever been knocked unconscious? A. Not that I can recall.

BULL****OLOLY

Q. If it were possible, would you want to know the day you were going to die? A. No. I've already got enough to worry about.

Q. If you could change your name, what would you change it to? A. I certainly do hate my first name. Growing up, I considered changing my first name to my mother's maiden last name (also a first name), but I gave it to my firstborn instead.

Q. What color do you think looks best on you? A. I have been told that pink looks very good on me, which is unfortunate for me because I detest pink.

Q. Have you ever swallowed a non-food item by mistake? A. I'm sure I have; doesn't everybody at some point? What's that old saying about having to eat a pound of dirt in each life?

Q. Have you ever saved some one’s life? A. I don't think so.

Q. Has someone ever saved yours? A. The doctor who diagnosed my brain tumor.

DAREOLOGY

Q. Would you kiss a member of the same sex for $100? A. I'm not opposed to the kissing, as such, but I'm not a fan of doing such things for money.

Q. Would you allow one of your little fingers to be cut off for $200,000? A. No. That would really hurt.

Q. Would you never blog again for $50,000? A. I don't know. I'd still have to write, and I could email people, I guess.

Q. Would you pose naked in a magazine for $250,000? A. Actually, no. And for what, Old Bats Monthly?

Q. Would you drink an entire bottle of hot sauce for $1000? A. Not a chance. Not for any amount of money. I'd sooner pose naked, and I'm not doing that either.

Q. Would you, without fear of punishment, take a human life for $1,000,000? A. No. Not for anything would I intentionally do that.

DUMBOLOGY

Q: What is in your left pocket? A: Nothing at the moment. When the testing in the school is over for today, I'll turn my cell phone on and put it in my left pocket.

Q: Is Napoleon Dynamite actually a good movie? A: I thought it was clever; I enjoyed it. It wasn't Casablanca.

Q: Do you sit or stand in the shower? A: Stand. Even when I could hardly stand, I stood. The idea of sitting in the shower squicks me out.

Q: Could you live with roommates? A: As opposed to the jabroneys I live with now? (As in, my family.) I would prefer not to live with any other roommate, I think, except a dog.

Q: How many pairs of flip flops do you own? A: I can't walk in actual flip-flops. I have a pair of Croc flip-flop type shoes that I wear for pedicures.

Q: Last time you had a run-in with the cops? A: I've had some encounters with lovely police officers in the last few years, mostly when they were helping me with something, and I got a ticket from -- I have to say it -- a real pig about five and a half years ago. Nothing I could really call a run-in. (Curiously, the two good and one bad encounter all took place in the same town -- not mine, a neighbor -- so all the officers were members of the same police force.)

Q: What do you want to be when you grow up? A: I think at this point my two main ambitions are to retire and to be a grandma.

LASTOLOGY

Q: Last Friend you talked to? A: Chatted with the Other Chai about an hour ago in the school office. A real deep talk with a friend? My sister, Monday night.

Q: Last person who called you? R, last night.

Q: Last person you saw? A: I'm at school at the moment, so I've seen at least a hundred people already today. The last one was a chemistry teacher.

FAVORITOLOGY

Q: Number? A: I have two favorite numbers: 42 (no idea why; this is from before I read Hitchhiker's Guide) and 732, my dorm room number in college.

Q: Season? A: Summer.

CURRENTOLOGY

Q: Missing someone? A: Not so much at the moment.

Q: Mood? A: Stable.

Q: Listening to? A: I have the New York City oldies station playing on my computer, something I can only do when there are no kids in the library.

Q: Watching? A: The only time I'm not watching TV is when I'm at work.

Q: Worrying about? A: Always money at the back of my mind.

RANDOMOLOGY

Q: First place you went this morning? A: To the bathroom.

Q: What can you not wait to do? A: Retire.

Q: What’s the last movie you saw? A: Ooh, tough one. Oh, okay. I watched Idiocracy on Sunday. It reminded me of Americathon.

Q: Do you smile often? A: Also a good question. I think I do, but apparently it does not always appear so to other people, because strangers will sometimes accost me with a command to "Smile!", to which I respond, if I'm not totally taken aback "This is smiling." Part of my face is paralyzed, you know, and my mouth doesn't move on one side.

Q: Are you a friendly person? A: Well, I certainly think so. But I am also a shy person, so the friendliness isn't always so out there. I could sit in a room full of strangers, like in a waiting room, and smile (for me) but never speak until someone speaks to me, and then I will chatter away and make all kinds of conversation. But I can't start it.


WATCHING L/O :: ENTRY #1694

Hey Hey Hey

What a wonderful day.

Not living-wise, just an average day of living. But it was beautiful out, like an early spring afternoon. It was over 50 degrees, bright and sunny, with warm breezes blowing. It's supposed to rain tomorrow, but be nearly 60 degrees.

We had a fire drill, of course, because we need two a month by law, so they jump at any nice day in the winter. It was a little weird to be out there in the beautiful air with the kids still stepping over mounds of snow to get out to the field. After school, I couldn't just sit at home, so I went out and got some nice fish and stuff for dinner. K's at class tonight, but if she wants it when she gets home, everything's all ready to just be put in the microwave. I already had mine, and it was yum.

No new foods for me today. I've had some gut pain since last night, although nothing else unpleasant accompanying it, so I'm just being a bit more careful. I'm wondering if it could have been the fish oil capsules I started last week, so I'm stopping them until I talk to the doctor on Thursday. They supposedly help bring down inflammation, and I had my bloodwork done this morning, so any good properties won't make a difference in my test results at this point. I'd like the inflammation down so the doctor won't suggest that I start the next level of medicine. I'm keeping my fingers crossed.

Thanks for the input on the gift thing, btw. I'm going to look for an opportunity aned say something, or at the very latest, get him a birthday gift (next month) and explain it then. He probably doesn't even care, but it's just such a weird situation.

State testing starts tomorrow, which is more boring than anything else, for me, since I have hall duty for the first half of it. I have some library journals to go through, and then Truman on the Palm; I just have to hope the battery doesn't wear out. What can I say: I really do like reading an ebook on the little device. It's just easier than holding a book, I guess. Don't get me wrong, I love books and will love books eternally, but over a period of time -- say, sitting on a hard chair for nearly two hours -- my hands will cramp up and I will get tired of moving my head back and forth, which I have to do with a regular book because of the progressive bifocal lenses I wear.

Okay, back to Harry S.


WATCHING RAYMOND :: ENTRY #1692

Just One of Those Nights

Last night, right after I got home from the doctor's, K and I decided to get KFC (pot pie warning: excellent crust, inside not so good), and then the phone rang as I was taking my last bite and didn't stop for an hour, and then she and I watched Wednesday's Project Runway and then it was time for Lost. So, no post last night.

The doctor, henceforth to be known as Resnick, was very pleased with my progress, but reminded me that I am now at a point where I may begin to feel less well again. He had discussed this when I was first diagnosed, that the prednisone would make me feel great, but we wouldn't know until I was off the prednisone how well the other, the more specific medication, was working. And that's where I am right now. I have a bit of trouble with my tongue, and my feet hurt some, but I'm hoping that these will improve within a few days. If not, and if my stomach starts to get worse, I will have to move up to the next level of Crohn's medication, which, Resnick says, always works. I have read enough on message boards to know that this is not necessarily true, but I'm also starting to feel that I don't have one of the worst cases of this. The other medication is going to have its own side effects too, and I'm hoping I don't have to go there, but if I do, I will.

The other thing Resnick said was that he doesn't want me to go to a dietitian. He says that in his experience, people who do that end up eating more restricted diets and enjoy less quality of life. I pointed out that I preferred not to learn what I can and cannot eat through trial and error, but he said that's the only way to do it, and that I have to be less afraid of eating outside this small diet I've created for myself. But I did get his specific approval on artificial sweetener -- I guess I'm hooked on those little pink packets -- and coffee. So I've got my old standby iced tea waiting in the fridge for when I get home today, and I'm going to go get a nice soy latte someplace tomorrow morning before my haircut. The funny thing is, though, I have to try out new foods the way you introduce foods to a baby: try something, wait three days before trying something else to see if I react. I'm also keeping a log of what I eat. Who knows, tomorrow coffee, next week .... cheese? Ahhhh. Actually, Resnick said yesterday I should continue to "limit" dairy and I said "I'm eating zero dairy now," and he said I could definitely try small amounts of cheese. Oh boy, do I miss cheese.

Today's the last day of school before winter break, which means there are lots of people out, which includes, of course, the SCM, because he's never here the day before a vacation. Hey, whatever, at least K has work today. (But not in for the SCM; she's in the second of two days for a math teacher.) And the kids who are here are pretty squirrely.

Speaking of squirrels, our assistant principal has just struck again. She's a very nice woman, but honestly, nuts. She is so hyper-organized that in fact nothing she does is organized at all; she works herself up into such a frenzy that she can't get anything right. Anyway, at 1.34, she sent out an email with six (!) attachments about the upcoming state testing: all the schedules, instructions, and duty assignments. She sent out the corrected version of the same email at 2.00. I think that's a record for her, only 26 minutes between the original email and the correction. I don't know how long it will be before the second correction comes out, but it's coming, because every email she sends is followed by at least two corrected versions. Gah. And most of her emails (although not this one) are decorated in pretty colors and giant pretty fonts. Let me repeat myself: gah. As I say, just another squirrel.

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Home. Yes, the iced tea is wonderful. It was pretty much the only thing I ever drank before I got sick, except for coffee in the morning, and I stopped drinking it because I didn't know if the artificial sweetener was bad for me. (I couldn't get it to taste right with real sugar, for some reason.)

My big plans for tomorrow included getting my eyebrows waxed at 11.15, followed by a haircut, and then it turned out that R had an 11.30 wax appointment, so we figured we would go together. And then today, she somehow threw out her back at work, so is now at home on a muscle relaxer and something for pain. So my day tomorrow just became going to pick her up first -- 20 minutes there, 20 minutes back -- since it hurts her to drive, and she can't take the meds and drive anyway. And maybe after the haircut, we'll come back to the house, pick up K, and have a nice lunch out. Yeah, that's the ticket.

Okay, enough of me. I'm on vacation now! Woo Hoo!

WATCHING THE SIMPSONS :: ENTRY #1679

Free Falling

So yesterday was my first day off the prednisone. No serious repercussions so far, although I've got a killer sinus headache that I probably would have had before, but which was masked by the pred. I'm still taking the other med, of course, but there's a kind of feeling of being on my own. Strange. I was on that stuff for five weeks, and it really brought me back to life.

I took the opportunity yesterday, then, to make a few little changes in honor of returning to life. I wore jeans to work. (No one noticed, which I thought was interesting.) I started wearing a wedding ring again; I'd taken it off when my hands were all painful and swelling. (I'm wearing my original wedding ring, btw, the one I was married in. It's the most comfortable at the moment.) I also put on just a bit more makeup than I've been wearing, just a little something to cover up the circles under my eyes, and mascara. Up until then, I felt no need to cover up the dark circles, figuring that I looked sick and tired because I was sick and tired. Now I feel pretty much normal for me (although I do get The Tired here and there), just with occasional stomach upset. And gas. Once again, not far from normal for me.

I am very bored at work today. I have a lot of books to process, but the library management software is down at the moment, so that's out. We have classes in all day, but they are all just using the computer lab independently, no instruction required. One class was in this morning doing book research, but it was their third day here, so they were just working, and needed no help. Other than the I.D. cards (aka, the new bane of my existence), things are barely stirring here. I wish I had some crayons so I could just color or draw. I don't know why; that's not a feeling that comes over me often, since I can't draw, but I feel somehow like I want to color.

Oh, speaking of lapsing into my second childhood, I got dressed this morning for the storm that is allegedly coming later, and finally put on my new winter boots that have been languishing in my closet. K made a comment about me wearing them, and I said that it was the first time I was. She corrected me, and said I had worn them once before. I disagreed. And she said "Oh, come on, which one of us has the better memory?"

Well, shit, I guess the answer to that question is not "I do." She does have an excellent memory, she has my memory, apparently, or I should say, she remembers things the way I always did. Who has the better memory? God, I have never been in a time or place before where the answer to that question was not "I do." Gettin' old, folks. Gettin' old.

Did you know that the Rubik's cube is making a comeback? Every day during the lunch period, there are at least a half dozen boys sitting in the library, working their Rubik's cubes. What was that, the seventies that those things were big? Anyway, it amuses me to see them. They probably think they discovered something all brandy-new, like no one before them ever worked on Rubik's cubes. Which they then proceeded to toss back and forth to each other, like they weren't hard objects with corners. Kids are so weird.

Later in the day now, and I am getting sleepy. There's a very fine snow falling outside, and it's sticking. I don't think it'll amount to much in terms of snow, but it's supposed to get a little warmer later, so instead of snow, it will fall as frozen rain, or as rain that freezes on contact with the ground. And that won't be good. Once again, I'll be happy when I know everyone is safe at home. K doesn't have class tonight, so that's a plus, and R doesn't have far to walk from the train.

Later, at home. Still snowing. The roads were barely snow-covered, but very slick and slippery; there must have been a coating of ice underneath. K got home before I did and parked in the garage, as our first car home does, as that makes one less car to clean off in the morning. If there is anything to clear off. Will it snow all night? Turn to rain? It's supposed to be 42 degrees tomorrow, which should melt anything frozen, I think. Oh, who knows. I'm just glad neither one of us is out there driving.

WATCHING THE GOLDEN GIRLS :: ENTRY #1677