I Continue to Exist

I've been so bad with the writing lately. I think part of it is that I'm a little overwhelmed by all the recent medical news and I'm not digesting it all that fast, so it's hard to know what to write. Things are off and on weird with my sister, mostly because she's going through a similar, but not quite the same, medical situation. I have to go to work every day, so that distracts me some, but I don't think she has a distraction, and so she's dealing with it very differently than I am.

What can I tell you? No job yet for the ever-persevering K, who continues to apply for every job she can find. In the meantime, she gets up in the morning and waits to be called to sub someplace.

As for me, school is actually good this year, aside from the Big Bad, which has to do with me being in the library alone and not having bathroom access when that happens; the actual library and its work are good. I'm busy, I have more good readers this year, lots of nice kids, and all that. I may sing a different tune next week after I've done all the freshman orientation classes -- about 25 -- by myself, but that's okay, too.

I'm going to start physical therapy tomorrow, and hoping that goes well. Actually, I'm hoping it's like getting a good massage that's covered by insurance. I can dream, can't I?

Oh hey, I went to the cardiologist yesterday and had a stress test and would you believe? It seems that I have one bodily system that actually works just the way it's supposed to! I know! I was astonished myself.

I was looking over some old entries I'd started that I have on Google docs, and I miss writing like that, the entry about something interesting, or something I'm passionate about. Too much health stuff lately. I'd like to get back to that, so I need to try to just do it. Perhaps if I can still hold my head up tomorrow night, I shall.




watching THE GOLDEN GIRLS :: ENTRY #2124
READING: Say You're One of Them by Uwem Akpan

Ugh

I think my sister and I need couples' therapy. We're talking again, but she always sounds angry, and is picking on me for imagined things. We talked just now -- she had completely forgotten that we talked this afternoon -- and proceeded to tell me how I wasn't getting the right medical care, my doctors were not the right doctors, I was seeing all kinds of doctors who do nothing for me instead of seeing the one I need (!?) and she knows I like my gastroenterologist (Resnick), but she doesn't, and on and on. When I got a word in, I asked how she was feeling right now, and she said in a breathy voice "Like I have high blood pressure."

Whoa. She does not have high blood pressure -- I do -- she has chronically low blood pressure, so that scared me. I asked her why she felt that way, and she said it was from talking to me. Well. I could feel the tears starting, but I fought them down and all I wanted was for her to be calm. I explained that my situation was really under control, although it didn't look that way to her, and on and on, and after a bit, I asked if she felt better, and she said she felt that same. "Like you have high blood pressure?" I asked. "If talking to me gives you high blood pressure, you won't want to talk to me anymore." And she said, after a pause, "It was a figure of speech. You know I don't have high blood pressure."

What is wrong with me? Am I just taking everything too literally these days? If she said she felt like she was having high blood pressure, what was I supposed to know that means? Maybe a couples' therapist could teach us to communicate more clearly.

No doubt there's something up with me, and I have no idea what it is. I don't feel depressed, just sad about some actual situations, like the thing with my sister and K not having a job. I got stopped for speeding today, but I didn't get a ticket, just a warning. K told me later that I've been driving fast a lot lately. I asked if it was scary to ride with me, and she paused before saying no.

Not to mention which I got this haircut that I like and not a single person has said to me "Hey, I like your haircut!" Which tells me something.

The thing is, I feel like I am perfectly fine and myself, but apparently other people aren't perceiving me that way. Which fills me with a lot of self-doubt, and I don't like that at all. It may be time to start going back to therapy (although my sister doesn't think my therapists have done very well with me, since I still have flaws that she can see that haven't been resolved, flaws that no one ever mentioned to me and I am unaware of; maybe my problem is that my ESP is off.) But the next step will be that all of this will make me sick, and I don't need that.

I am so babbling now. All I want is to simultaneously finish a book, watch some Home Improvement, and go to sleep, since my alarm is set for 6:30 and I really have to get up this time. And did I mention that they're taking George Lopez off at 10 pm starting next week? No George?




watching THE BIG BANG THEORY :: ENTRY #2111
READING: The Lightning Thief by Rick Riiordan

Catching Up

I haven't really written much since I've been back, mostly because I wasn't comfortable with some of the things going on here, but either they're better now or I am, so I can write a bit about it.

Disney World, as much as I love it, is a physically demanding adventure, and none of us who went along are spring chickens. We were all in pain to some degree the whole time. It did occur to us to get wheelchairs on the third day; we got two, and switched off from time to time. I don't think we could have made it otherwise. Next time I go, I will definitely get a scooter (a motorized wheelchair-like thingy), but that's for another time.

When we would get back to our rooms at night, we were beat. I would do what I had to do pretty quickly, which is my nature: put the dirty clothes in a laundry bag, take out clean clothes for the next day, get my shoulder-bag ready for the next day, and collapse. I had two great nights' sleep there, one awful, and two okay. But my sister would take hours to get herself together, both at night and in the morning, and slept badly every night, and that for only a few hours. She was in a lot of pain during the day, and medicated herself for it. She had migraines three days out of five, but kept on going.

When I talked to her Sunday evening, she had been sleeping off an on all day and didn't sound great. She was still in a lot of pain, an arthritis flare-up. On Monday, she told that this was all my fault, and that I should have taken better care of her while we were away. I cried off an on for the next few hours, and she hasn't spoken to me since, although I think we're on better terms after texting last night and during the day today. Obviously, this was not my fault, and she gave no indication while we were away that she needed more help than I gave her. I myself was limping and using a cane when I wasn't in the wheelchair or pushing her in it (I was still limping, but no cane when pushing the wheelchair, which was actually better than the cane.) None of us were in great shape. Even so, the particulars aren't important; I don't know where she got this crazy idea, and it really threw me off for a few days. Not that I thought for a minute that she was right, but it made me very sad, and also made me really question myself: if she thinks that I'm capable of that, of not taking care of her for some capricious reason, what else does that say? That I'm not the person I think I am? That she, of all people, can't read me the way I think others can, and if so, who am I?

So I've been dealing a lot with that issue, and even though I've decided that the issue is hers -- maybe her husband's, but I don't want to go there with her -- it's been hard. Here, it's my last week before school starts, I've had a lot to do, and this was hanging over me.

In the meantime, K still has no job. A good possibility was supposed to call her back today either way, but of course, they didn't. So she's still left hanging. But that district doesn't start until after Labor Day, so she should still hear from them either way early next week. It would be a wonderful job in many ways. Still keeping everything crossed.

My knee was much worse, so I went to the orthopedist yesterday and got a better brace for it. He also gave me an anti-inflammatory creme for my elbows and various aches; so far, it's done nothing, but he wanted me to try it before I go back for the cortisone shots in my elbows. He also gave me some exercises for the plantar fasciitis, which is much worse after all that walking last week. I can pretyy much only wear Crocs now, which is okay, I guess.

Believe it or not, I'm also partially packed for the next trip, back to Florida, on September 11. That's only a two night trip, and not much walking. I'm hoping that R will be willing to do the driving, at least at night. I'm so glad she's going with me. On this one, we're both taking small suitcases and not checking them through, so everything is nice and compact, the way I like it. I've already got my dressies packed to wear to the Bar Mitzvah, and even my underwear and socks. All that's left is two days of day clothes, make-up, and meds.

Speaking of dressies, we have another damn party to go to this Sunday night, for the Hubs' aunt's 75th birthday. This family just loves to have big parties at their country club; every party is there, and so, is identical to the last one. And 5:30 on a Sunday night? How do they think of these things? So we have to drive to the ILs first and pick up the MIL; the FIL is not attending, and then drive back there later to take her home. It adds time, but I have no problem with that. I also told her that I will happily either attend the party or stay with the FIL, if she wants me to; either choice is fine with me, she just needs to tell me how to dress ahead of time. R and the GF, who live closer to the ILs, are also going to offer to stay with the FIL, so I may have to after all, but I have no idea what I'm wearing, of course, since my dressies are, as I said, packed. On the other hand, how much do I care? I'll find something.

Speaking of people who don't return calls -- I was somewhere, yes? -- once again, my principal had totally blown me off. When he didn't see me on Tuesday, I emailed him with all my free time this week, and I got no reply. So let's see. School starts Tuesday, Wednesday for the kids. It appears that there will be two new members of my staff, but I don't know what their jobs are and they haven't been hired yet. It will be my job to determine what their jobs are, and train them. Clerks or aides or something, but I don't know, and I don't know what their hours will be. As it stands, I have no assigned lunch period, other than the one mandated by my contract, which means I have to have one, but as far as I know, no one is assigned to cover the library during either lunch period. I may have to close the doors when I go. I guess. I have no idea what to do, or if he will tell me what to do before Wednesday. Although I'm sure that if I lock the doors during a lunch period, it'll get back to him. I guess I'll have to find a union person on Tuesday to tell me what to do. *sigh* As I recall, this was supposed to be the year I was excited about starting over and doing everything new. Well, this is new. I just so hate to be unprepared.

I've been reading an interesting scifi YA series by Scott Westerfield called Uglies, which is also the name of the first book. It's not what I expected, but I like it a lot. I'm on the third book of the trilogy, but then he wrote a fourth as a follow-up, I guess because it was popular, so I have that next.

Well, there you go, the entire contents of my brain spilled out on the screen. Hoping to see R tomorrow, or possibly Sunday. It's a rainy day and rainy weekend ahead, actually colder outside than in, today. Looks like some frozen White Castle cheeseburgers for dinner for me.



watching THE GOLDEN GIRLS :: ENTRY #2110
READING: Specials by Scott Westerfeld

Looking ... Up?

Okay, so here's where today stands:

I went to the cardiologist this morning for an annual visit, and all seems fine to him, although he wants me to have another stress test. (Two years since the first one.) I made the appointment for September 28, which, for the faithful, is Yom Kippur, but since I'm not one of the faithful, it's a day off work, so I don't have to take a working day off to go. I expect no issues to surface. He asked me if I exercise, but said nothing about weight, which is part of what makes him such a nice doctor.

I have a firm date to go in and visit OldFriend, which is the Monday after I get back from Disney World. I'm taking the train this time, and K will maybe go with me and maybe not, depending.

Last night, she got an email to set up an interview that would have been a real blow not to get. Will she get the job? Anything is possible, so she might. If she doesn't, well, I'm just really, really glad she got the interview. More on that in the future, depending on what comes of it. In the meantime, she sent in yet another application today to yet another school district.

We've had this little mini-drama going on, my sister and I, over this big box of pictures that I got from Wonderful Niece, but today, I talked to WN and everything is peaceful and serene. I get the feeling that my sister was reading more into something than was there, and as a result, was making me a little crazy, but WN assures me that all is well, and that my feeling -- that the pictures belong to all of us, she's just their keeper for now -- is exactly the way she feels. Good.

Reading. I cannot make myself finish that damn book, even though I really want to read it. I have at least a half dozen ready to go on the iPhone, but I'm trying not to dig into those at least until we're in the air next week. (I don't want to read them all and then have nothing with me when I'm away.)

Away. One week from this very moment, I will be dining at Cap'n Jack's at Disney's Marketplace, or whatever they call that little mall they have there. We're not going to the part where they have the nightclubs and such because we are, after all, four old bats, crazy perhaps, but hardly wild. We'd rather go shopping. Which we will, before and after dinner, I'd guess. Our flight and our cousins' flight from Denver arrive about a half hour apart next Monday afternoon (theoretically), so we should be at the hotel by three or three-thirty, I think.

Speaking of which, I believe I am fully packed now. Yeah, yeah, no one here believes it, either. But I think the suitcase is good. Stuffed, but good. I have a short list of what is yet to go in the carry-on, which is already stuffed as well, so I may have to carry some medication in one of those draw-string back-sacks, or whatever they're called. (It's school colors, and has the team name in huge letters across the front. These days, aren't all of us whose school name isn't Trojans thankful for that small favor? Our school name makes no particular sense, but it is funny, in a way that took me 35 years to get, which I'll happily explain to you all when I retire.)

The Hubs is now cooking an entire head of cauliflower using some method that is going to make me start sneezing uncontrollably in a matter of minutes. Time to post.




watching FAMILY GUY :: ENTRY #2101
READING: A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius by Dave Eggers

Aieee!

I'm having that old issue with my eye again. It hurts. I've tried all the drops and that stuff; all that remains is to close it and keep it closed. It's going to be a long evening.

Tomorrow is my last day with my lovely library assistant, and graduation at night. So that's a long day. I'll miss her, but really, she was just what I needed when I needed it to get my old mojo back (if that's using mojo correctly.) I do hope she gets the job she's interviewed for a couple of times. She's good, and she deserves a nice job.

So my sister activated texting on her phone yesterday, but she can't upgrade to the phone with a keyboard for another few weeks. She's developed her own punctuation system, since she can't seem to manage punctuation on the keyboard she's got, and she can't go without. I'll bet it's killing her not to punctuate and capitalize, but so far, she's sent me some very cute messages, with lots of xxxxx's in them. She uses an x to stand in for other things, one x for a comma, two xx's for a period, and so forth, and she also ends each message with xoxoxoxo. It's like reading a secret code.

In other news, no summer yet to speak of in New Jersey. It's very, very strange.

Okay, I'm going to goop up my eye now with ointment, which will be like wearing glasses with vaseline smeared all over one of the lenses. Mmm boy.



watching THE GOLDEN GIRLS :: ENTRY #2072
READING: ----- by -----

Just a Brief Rant

I've added another quotation to my page header, courtesy of John at ... and no cheese. Because I think it's really important for people to read, I'm going to put it here as well, including the itty bit I took out for space reasons and its full context. I bolded the notable part.

“Naturally the common people don't want war; neither in Russia, nor in England, nor in America, nor in Germany. That is understood. But after all, it is the leaders of the country who determine policy, and it is always a simple matter to drag the people along, whether it is a democracy, or a fascist dictatorship, or a parliament, or a communist dictatorship. Voice or no voice, the people can always be brought to the bidding of the leaders. That is easy. All you have to do is to tell them they are being attacked, and denounce the pacifists for lack of patriotism and exposing the country to danger. It works the same in any country.”

Hermann Goering, for those of you who haven't taken high school history yet, was Hitler's right-hand man. For anyone who still thinks there's nothing weird going on in this country, let this article jog your memory.

Okay, I'm done.

My sister took me to the eye doctor today; my eyes were dilated about 12:30 and as of now -- a few minutes past six -- my pupils are still so big that barely a sliver of eye color is showing. I'm afraid to go outside until it's dark. I always react like this, as K did when she had her eyes examined the other night. It looks pretty creepy.

After that we went to Panera for lunch and then the Sibs wanted to pick up a gift card at the Apple Store, but there was a dress store literally in between Panera and Apple and we loitered there for god knows how long, but she got a dress to wear to her son's wedding in September. I still have nothing; I really must start looking next week.

We came back to my house and I helped her set up a bunch of things on her new Mac, including Google Reader, which I think she still doesn't get, but she will. The new Mac OS is very nice, but I'm not sorry I didn't upgrade to it; I don't think it's really that different.

My tummy is so strange today, I can't really say bad, just strange. But I am tired. And tomorrow I have to get up with the alarm (!) because I have an appointment at 9:15, and I've mostly been sleeping until eight or so all summer, which is delightful, but I don't think it would get me out of the house in time.

WATCHING FAMILY GUY :: ENTRY #1819
SUMMER BOOK #3: The Yiddish Policemen's Union by Michael Chabon

Always Be Prepared

Wasn't much of a day today; my MRI was postponed because they were doing some kind of equipment maintenance. So I'll do that on Friday.

I did a couple of little things today, and then my sister called and asked if I wanted to join her on a little shopping excursion. So that was fun, and she even drove. She's supposed to be driving me to the eye doctor on Thursday too, so I can finally get my eyes dilated for an exam. Big plans.

So I can go to therapy tomorrow if my cold isn't worse than it is now -- I called her to be sure -- and then I'm off to the high school to talk to the principal and possibly the Martian. I was a little concerned because some of the materials I'd like to refer to are in the library, and I won't have time to go there first, but between my flash drive and remote login, I managed to gather and print out most of what I sneed. I hate to be unprepared for any kind of meeting. I always like to go in with a folder with more printouts than I'll possibly be asked for, but when asked, I can always pull out just I need and hand it over. Also, at some point before school starts, I will need to use the library computer to update the library website, since I don't have FrontPage or anything else I'm happy with on the Mac. So I'm bringing what I need to do that tomorrow, if I decide to stay once I'm already there. It all depends on my talk with the boss.

And that's my story for today.

WATCHING FRIENDS :: ENTRY #1816
SUMMER BOOK #3: The Yiddish Policemen's Union by Michael Chabon

Ever So Briefly

A very long, but not particularly unpleasant day, but I logged in to type this about two hours ago, at which point I remembered that I forgot to make lunch for tomorrow which I had started to do two hours before that, so, in brief:

The colonoscopy went well, and as predicted, I came home, ate breakfast, slept for an hour and a half, and woke up feeling terrific. At which point I drove to my haircut (which I wasn't supposed to do, but I was fine), and later to physical therapy.

My sister isn't sure if she'll have the energy tomorrow to go to the Apple store at six p.m. I swear I'll have to go buy her a computer myself. We'll see where that goes.

JJ, eldest nephew, was finally -- finally! -- approved this morning as having his Master's thesis complete and correct and will be getting his degree -- finally -- on Friday. They made him bring in old papers he had written for some of his classwork to prove his grades, since so many of his professors have retired and couldn't vouch for him. So it looks like he may get a real job someday in the future after all.

And the Hubs' car, aka Jack's old car, is finally on the ropes. The exhaust system is going, and that's too big to fix. Once again, that which I feared for years -- having to replace all three cars in one year -- is coming to pass.

And now, time to crash. I've been up since four this morning, and didn't sleep much before that, and it's back to work tomorrow.

WATCHING L/O :: ENTRY #1757

Just a Day

No biggie. I was very busy at work, although not with teaching. It was time to get ready to renew all our subscriptions to online information sources (periodical indexes, online reference works, etc. etc.) and I spent a big chunk of the day calling one vendor or another to get them to send me current price quotes. Not exciting, but it kept me occupied.

I did go to Target with the girls yesterday, and then out to lunch, and then later we ordered our take-out but the order was messed up so the Hubs had to go back. At about seven, I got a whispered phone call from a not-happy FIL asking if we were planning to call the MIL for Mother's Day. Well, duh. I told him we were going to call in a few minutes, as soon as everyone was finished chewing. He chuckled and said "This call never happened." Well, of course we were going to call, what are we, barbarians? It was unfortunate that it took that long for all four of us to be a) home, b) awake, and c) not eating, and in fact, the Hubs hadn't finished his dinner yet. But we called.

My sister, Miss Glass-Half-Empty, had said earlier in the week that she doesn't like Mother's Day, it's a sad holiday. "Why is that?" I asked, and she said "Because I don't have a mother." Pause. "Oh, you too." Oy. She has four children and two step-children; I think she needs to shift her focus a bit here. I did talk to her last night but the Mother's Day thing never came up. She was all charged up because she'd had the last straw with her D-E- double hockey sticks computer, and has decided to get a Mac, so now I'm her guru, as I have been for her with all things computer.

In other news, I'm going to see the physician's assistant at the orthopedist tomorrow, which of course means that my arm has stopped hurting today. I'll let you know.

WATCHING MASH :: ENTRY #1752

At the Salon

It was an amusing day, because the SCM was out, and K was indeed his substitute. I was a little aggressive this morning when I got to school -- at 6.45 -- to make sure that the ladies who schedule the substitutes didn't take mine away, since I had business outside the library for five out of the eight periods in the day, and they didn't. K says it was the easiest money she ever made, and considering she had a few kids who were damn rude to her yesterday and had to be referred for disciplinary action, she wasn't kidding.

Anyway, the interesting parts of my day seemed to take place between 3.30 and 4.45, at the nail salon.

First, I got there a little early, and the Sibs was there in my chair, being finished up. Always a nice surprise, getting to chat with her in person unexpectedly. She finished and sat at the nail dryer and I got started, we talked about one thing or another, and then her driver arrived. Oy. Not only can my sister drive, she has a year old Prius that has maybe 500 miles on it -- I swear it's still on its first tank of gas -- but her hubby likes to drive her places, so she lets him. He dropped her off for her appointment, he came back to pick her up. Oh, okay. I was facing the front window and saw him coming, and I said "Oh, your ride's here!" and when he came in I threw him a very cheery "Hi!" and he looked around the room at the various manicurists and said a cheerful "Hi, ladies!"

I think I am somehow invisible to him. I really don't know what it is. I do know that he is sometimes odd with people, since apparently I don't have the market cornered on socially odd husbands in the family, but yes, I take offense at it. There have been a few times when I've stood right in front of him with no one else around, spoken to him directly, and gotten no reply or recognition whatsoever. It's weird. It's possible he sees me as some kind of threat to his lock on the Sibs' attention, and it's true that she doesn't generally hesitate to spend time with me when she's so motivated, but I don't think he has to worry. I'm happy that she's happy, but I was certainly the loser here, since we used to spend a LOT of time together and now we don't. (Not bitter, just saying.) But he is strange.

So, in and among the ladies at the salon, there is one young male manicurist. This is common in some places, but it still feels strange to me, although he has never done my nails or toes. He is, of all odd things, half Korean and half Chinese. He considers himself ethnically Korean but was born and raised in China and came here a year ago; he speaks Korean and Chinese, but very little English. Which began today's adventure.

Tom -- he says his name is Tom -- said to the woman sitting next to me getting her nails done, kind of out of the blue, something like "Where ... you leave?" She was a little taken aback, but said "I live in Townname." He looked puzzled, and said again, "Where ... you leave?" Then he said something in Korean to Mimi, who was doing the woman's nails, who asked Grace, who was doing mine, and Grace said to him "Where you living?" And then the other customer and I realized that Tom was studying his English book, and didn't want to know where anyone lives, he just wants to know how to ask the question. So we were both repeating "Where do you live?" and "Where do you live?" and so on, and he kind of caught on and went back to his book.

And Mimi asks us if it's "live" or "leave", and decides she has it right and announces "I leave in Townname." Oy. And now we are explaining to these poor women "live" [exist] versus "live" [Live on TV tonight!] and leave [get out] and leaves [on the trees] and you know what? English really is a crazy language. Grace, whom I think was somewhat well educated in Korea, finally heard the difference between live and leave and said, with some recognition, "Oh. One is a short sound and one is long." Why, yes. Exactly.

And then she was telling me about some of the difficulties involved, some in not being fluent in the language of the place you live, and some in the sense she has that she doesn't really belong anywhere. She sees that her children are totally Americanized -- two boys, one in college, one in high school -- and she sees her culture slipping away from them, and that makes her sad. But when she went back to Korea for a visit eight years ago, she didn't belong there either, because so much had changed since she left years earlier to come here. She told me about her frustration of having her car break down and not being able to explain clearly, in English of course, to the mechanic what the problem was, when she could have explained quite well in Korean. She wondered why we have the words talk, say, tell -- why so many that mean the same thing? I told her about the Eskimos having 20 words for snow, or whatever that old wives' tale is, and she was amused. She really does struggle for a lot of English words, but if she's not rushed -- or tired, she says -- she'll come up with them. I suggested that she watch TV in English, but she says everyone talks so fast, she loses the thread of what's going on.

And we thought we had it tough.

So, a little window into a different way of looking at things. I'm very fond of Grace, and Mimi also. Tom not so much, but hey. It's certainly different to have a friend who doesn't exactly speak the same language I do.

WATCHING MASH :: ENTRY #1742

VaCaDay Last *sob*

Yes, it's back to work tomorrow, and as if to remind me, today is a raw, gray day. This past week has been spectacular, weather-wise, and although I'm not much of an outdoor person, I enjoyed every minute of it.

I never got around to writing yesterday. R came by after lunch and stayed through dinner, and then K and I watched The Goblet of Fire on TV, which prompted me to watch The Order of the Phoenix today. I watched some other strange things that happened to be on, I think two movies yesterday and one today, but I don't remember what they are. Hmm.

Earlier today, on our way to Target, K said something about now when I get stressed she's going to tell me to read my new tattoo and remember what it means. (What will be, will be.) Uh ... yes. That's one of the reasons I got, I told her, so that I would always see it and remember that things are just going to happen and I can't let myself get crazy over it. Yes, it's my tattoo. I picked it. I get it.

She is just the happiest little clam these days (despite a three-day stomach ache) over the new car coming on Tuesday. I just hope nothing happens to mess up the deal; I'm always afraid of something happening to mess up something good that's coming. She's out now for a drive, saying an extended farewell to her old car. It's a 1995 Chevy that she's had for seven years; it has well over 100k miles on it. Won't be missed, certainly by me, and I think not for long by her either.

Next Sunday we will be going to the ILs for the FIL's 80th birthday party. I talked to the SIL this morning (who just got back from DisneyWorld, yay for her!) and we discussed the gifts to get him. Oh yes, excellent gifts are expected, apparently. He would like a GPS system and a DVD recorder. Well, okay, love of gadgets and toys are something he and I have in common. But seriously. A GPS system? He can't drive anymore and he never goes anywhere. The DVD recorder I can see, a little -- I picked one up for him at Target this morning -- but it will take until his 90th birthday for him to figure out how to use it. (He was once incredibly slick with this kind of stuff.) I've got more to rant on with him, but I'll pass for today. He really is a sweetheart, and I'm very, very fond of him, but sometimes he could drive a person crazy. Hey, my own parents drove me crazy and I loved them a lot. So I guess I shouldn't complain (although you know I will.)

It's not going back to school I mind, as such, but I don't relish the thought of an alarm at 5.30 am -- ooh, gotta set that alarm -- and all the steps involved in getting myself out of the house. I took all that stuff at a very easy pace this week. As it is, I've already laid out my clothes and taken out my lunch bag, and gotten the coffee pot ready. I have a very busy day tomorrow: five classes starting my website/autobiography project, and I'm looking forward to that. I threw together another example for them last night, which I'll share with you when I work the bugs out of it. Basically, I realized that I connect to history with my choice of tattoos and what each one stands for, so that's it, but I don't have FrontPage on my Mac (my webpage authoring software of choice) so I had to use Word, and the pages don't link together properly. I did check the HTML and it looks right, it just doesn't work. Anyway, I have it on a flash drive and I think my first class isn't until second period, so I should get a chance to fix it and upload it.

Speaking of birthdays, my sister's 60th is coming up in a few weeks. (I keep seeing commercials on TV for people to visit Israel, to celebrate Israel's 60th birthday. Same day, same birthday. They heard Ben-Gurion's announcement of Israeli independence on the day my sister was born.) Anyway, I'm working on a little celebration for her, one that doesn't involve everyone in the free world, since her family has grown huge in the last few years between step-children and children's spouses. She also just recently woke up and realized -- hello -- that it's possible for a person to own DVDs -- is she really my sister? -- so I'm thinking about the big set of Rogers and Hammerstein musicals, but I have to make sure Wonderful Niece hasn't already gotten it.

Oh, okay, I guess I'm going to go watch Thursday's Lost now. Again. I hate it being on at 10. I'm not sure if I'm alert enough at that hour to catch everything.

WATCHING NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC :: ENTRY #1739

I Was Out Friday

As I mentioned once or twelve times, in order to avoid the teacher-training day, and as it turns out, a good decision. They did do a variety of "bonding" activities, including drawing pictures of teachers (one group drew a math teacher, one drew an English teacher, and so on) and then inviting comments via Post-It from everyone. The pictures of the children were posted on the walls of the room and everyone was invited to look at them to see all these children who were special to someone.

Excuse me.

BARF.

So, a good decision. As I commented to someone earlier today, had I been here on Friday, I would have been on the front page of the county newspaper today: LOCAL TEACHER GOES ON BERSERK MURDEROUS RAMPAGE.

In the meantime, today, not so bad. I had the most wonderful class in here this morning. There were only five students in it; this was the advanced level English as a Second Language class, and the teacher wanted them each to find a novel to read. I took out several, just for starters, and described, I think Hemingway's The Sun Also Rises to start. And one of the boys said "Oh, I read that, I liked it." The teacher asked if he had read it in English or Russian, and he said Russian, and I thought, Cool. So these were all very good readers in their native languages and becoming very good readers in English. They ended up with a real eclectic list that included The Sirens of Titan, Gone With the Wind, Catch-22, The Godfather, and something by Robert Grisham. The teacher and I have decided to base a year-long project on this idea next year, so I'm looking forward to that.

It's a lovely sunny day today. The last few days have been more sunny than not, despite predictions of rain. It was windy yesterday, but all in all, not a big deal. I'm going to the mall after school today, armed with the Chico's gift card the MIL gave me for Christmas, and then somewhere, maybe Best Buy, to get a new mouse for my school computer, since the old one has somehow been crushed to pieces by me in a rage disappeared.

.
.
.

Later. Yada, yada, I got the mouse, I got the jeans. First, a mysterious announcement upon which I cannot elaborate: my sister is one of the best people now living on this planet. I don't mean this in the she-bought-me-chocolate kind of way, but in the spiritual she-is-a-quality-human kind of way. Not my story to tell, but I'm very proud of her today.

Next. I am inching closer to my next tattoo. I think I've got a place for it, a bit strange perhaps, inside of my right arm, just below the elbow. At an angle. Words, I've known for a long time that I wanted words for my next tattoo. Here are my two possibilities:





Here's the story. Imagine, of course, is the John Lennon song and is a wonderful expression of hope for the world, and was one of my mother's favorite songs. (I just read an article in Newsweek about how corny it is and so many baby boomers will have Imagine tattoos, and fuck it, I already have a peace sign so I'm hardly unique.) Que sera, sera, if you're old enough to remember, is the name of a Doris Day song from the fifties. The words are supposedly Italian for "what will be, will be" which they're not. Real Italian, I mean. But in the context of the song, that's what it means, and this was one of my grandmother's favorite songs and I used to sing it for her when I was a wee one, and I do very much subscribe to the whole "what will be, will be" philosophy, especially now with the Crohn's and stuff. (These are also the fonts I'd like it done in, typewrite for Imagine and handwriting for que sera, sera. And at an angle.)

Whaddaya think, guys?


WATCHING MASH :: ENTRY #1727

Propping My Head Up

I slept strangely the last two nights, waking up every hour or so, and having creepy dreams that would continue when I went back to sleep. I'm pretty wiped out today, and my family is once again stressing me out. I shall recap.

Had a wonderful lunch out on Saturday, which I've already mentioned, but at some point the topic of who's smoking and who's not smoking came up, and somebody mentioned that the Hubs had stopped smoking. I had not mentioned this to my sister for any number of reasons. For one, if she had casually remarked to him (like if he answered the phone or something) "Oh, I hear you stopped smoking" he might freak out because he doesn't like people talking about him. (Or he could have had a sane moment and had a normal conversation with her about it.) Next, I would have had to tell her about his endless coughing fits and the temper outbursts that sometimes follow, and although I'm not embarrassed by this, per se, it meant I would have had to tell her that this stressed me out and made me sick, a little, for a week or so, and as you may recall, that's what I'm trying to avoid. Letting her know when I'm not feeling well because it causes an extreme reaction in her. (For a mini-relapse that I know will pass; I'll tell her when I'm really sick.)

Anyway, now she knows something is up and wants to know why I'm keeping it from her. Oy vey. I don't want to tell her on the phone unless I'm home alone (lest he overhear and be bothered by it) and I'm rarely home alone. She wants to know why I didn't tell her when we had dinner last week or whenever it was. I'm trying to explain to her, sotto voce, that when things are calm I need to keep them calm to keep my stress levels down; I don't want to think about it when I don't have to.

In the meantime, after coughing for literally two and a half hours Friday night, the Hubs did some yard work Saturday and yesterday, and took a nice long walk yesterday. This indicates to me that he is not as interested in killing himself as he said he was a month ago -- he was interested in saying it, not doing it -- and he is making plans for the future (he has tomato and other seedlings growing in the living room window), and he is thinking about his health in a positive way by taking the walk. So the weekend was not bad where he was concerned; he even coughed much, much less Saturday and Sunday. On the other hand,

the kid is sick. She has, I think, an upper respiratory infection on top of allergies, and I know she feels terrible and looks terrible but I'm sorry, she and her father are just freaking babies when they are sick. (And the Hubs was never like this before, only with this not-smoking sickness.) When K is not hiding out up in her room (which she doesn't do enough, as far as I'm concerned) she's sitting or lying somewhere near me moaning "Mommy, I'm sick!" Yes, folks, 24 years old in two weeks.

So this morning I was expecting quiet in the house. The Hubs was taking a day off for god knows what reason; he takes off one day every few years, and K couldn't work because she's sick. So I figured, Ah, no one else up in the morning, I'll have the whole house to myself. I thought I could sleep later, but of course no, I woke up at 5:30, ten minutes before my alarm. And I was rolling along, relaxing a bit on my morning routine, when what should I hear but K's door open. Yes, folks, she was too sick to sleep, and thought it would be a great idea to engage me in conversation, which meant she began to moan "Mommy, I'm sick! I can't breathe!" and so on. Let me tell you what would happen if I tried to engage her in conversation on any given morning. You would see the resultant explosion over New Jersey from every part of the globe. (I shall not yet again post a "Katie Kaboom!" video clip, but you could find it on Youtube and get the general idea.)

Anyway, I had time and she needed medicine, so I took her to the CVS and then dropped her off at home and went on to school, where I was like a zombie all day, but actually got lots and lots of stuff done. And all day I'm thinking "Oy, I'm so glad I'm here and not at home."

So that's the day. Unless there's been some kind of miracle cure, she's not going to class tonight. And it's been pouring all day, so I know he hasn't done any yardwork, although I suspect he stayed home to get some work-work done without the distractions of being in his office.

I think I shall sleep through this afternoon's mandatory faculty meeting.

P.S. Later, at home. I haven't seen the kid yet, but she went to the doctor this morning and got an antibiotic, and is now sleeping. (Of course, if she doesn't get up at a reasonable time, I shall have to go upstairs and make sure she's breathing. Yes, 24 in two weeks; she's not the only freak in the family.) And the Hubs, to show you how erratic he is, when I got home his car was gone but there was a message on the machine to call his cell phone. Seems he went somewhere and locked his keys in the car. I drove over and gave him a spare set, but he was laughing at himself and amused by the whole thing, something that could make anyone angry.

Come to think of it, I wouldn't mind a cigarette myself. Oh, just kidding.


WATCHING THE GOLDEN GIRLS :: ENTRY #1714

Incommunicado

We had a torrential downpour last night, and, as always happens, the telephone went out. Or more precisely, when it rains, the line develops a loud buzz, but this time it's so loud that the phone is unusable. People call and it doesn't ring, and we can't make calls out. It's usually better by the next day, but so far, no luck. I've actually had this fixed a few times over the twenty years we've lived here -- they have to replace wires or connections at the pole and at the house -- but it's very hard to make clear to the repair people what's wrong, because they always send someone days after the rain, and then, of course, everything is fine. So this should be fun.

In the meantime, I was feeling very cut off. Here it was, pouring, and I was waiting for a call from R to let me know she was home, and it was over an hour after I expected to hear from her. I was trying to be patient and good, because her train runs late in bad weather, and hey, she could have gone out for a drink with work people. But when I finally picked up the phone to leave her a message and found out we had no phone, I was not happy. Remember, my cell phone -- TMobile, btw -- does not get reception in my own house. It's a great phone and works great everywhere else, however.

I borrowed the Hubs' cell -- Verizon -- and called R, who said she had been trying to get us, had left messages, etc., on the house phone, which never rang. And then I tried my sister.

Well. My sister does not answer her phone, as a rule. If she happens to be near it, and she sees my name or one of her kids' names on the caller I.D., she answers. Maybe there's one or two other people she answers for. Otherwise, she lets it ring. And she never ever ever checks her messages. This makes it extremely difficult to reach her, as you might imagine, especially from an odd phone number. So of course she didn't answer, and although I left a detailed message explaining what was going on, I knew she wouldn't hear it.

So this morning I decided the phone situation was insane, and I went to Verizon and got a new phone that works in my house. I only have two months left on the old phone contract, and I have the cheapest plan on it, so I'll pay it out and then it'll be done. I couldn't keep my phone number because that would have been early termination and would have cost me like $300, instead of the $50 or so the next two months will cost. It's a fine little phone -- purple -- and it turns out that there's a discount o the monthly cost for teachers, so that's all good. Unfortunately, now I have to program my whole phonebook into it, ugh, but it's nice talking on the phone in my house.

On my way home from the phone store, I stopped in a parking lot and called my sister again (on my old cellphone), hoping she would recognize the number and pick up. No luck. When I get home, I emailed her -- she checks that once a week, maybe -- and explained the whole thing and gave her my new number so she would pick up the phone when I call her. Not that I expected anything to come of that, either.

I started working on the phone, but I got very, very tired, and crashed for a nap from about 2 to 4.40. Imagine my surprise when I got up and saw that I had voicemail on the new phone! First I had to set up the voicemail, but then to my delight, there was a message from my sister, and so then I got to call her back -- she answered -- and we caught up. At one point, I thought to ask if she had listened to her messages or checked her email. Oh, she said, her husband had checked her email, and he gave her the message.

Oh, good, thanks .... WHAT? YOUR HUSBAND CHECKS YOUR EMAIL? DO YOU THINK MAYBE YOU COULD TELL PEOPLE THAT?

Am I wrong here? If I send email to someone, shouldn't I have the expectation that that is the person who's going to read it, unless I'm told otherwise? Not that I'm planning to email her and say "You know, your husband's a dick" -- which he's not, just an example -- but I certainly could say a variety of personal things about her or about myself that aren't for anyone else's eyes. Jeez. Now I'm really glad that we don't email that much. I just found that very, very weird.

But I'm back in the world, sort of. House phone still not working; I'll see if I can call the repair people tomorrow on the new cell. The Hubs' parents know that our phone is down and they have his cell number, and my kids and the Sibs know. That should cover us for a couple of days, I think.

WATCHING FRIENDS :: ENTRY #1669