Fffffttttt

It's taken three weeks of school and the second trip to Florida to wipe me out and put me back in the land of fatigue I've been living in for years. Up until now, I was pretty peppy. I'm sleeping well, too; I just don't have the energy to make it through the day. We're testing at school this week, which means the schedule is all jumbled up every day, morning classes in the afternoon and vice-versa, which makes everyone a little bit confused and off.

Other than the tired, though, I'm okay. (Other than the constant aches and pains, I mean, as well.) Doctor tomorrow right after school.

The big excitement here is that K had a very good job interview yesterday and is teaching a demo lesson tomorrow at the school, to kids who will be her students in a few weeks if she gets the job. It's not in B-Town, fortunately. She worked on her lesson all day today, and then came into school and my friend The Other Chai, who is as master a master teacher as there could be, helped her polish the timing and pacing. This one has some real potential, folks. I'm just saying.

I don't even want to eat tonight, just collapse. Ah well, maybe later.





watching L & O :: ENTRY #2121
READING: The Outliers by Malcolm Gladwell

It Was A Dark and Stormy Afternoon

We've actually had something like sunshine for the last couple of days, but around four this afternoon, it turned dark and started to monsoon. I had to take off my hearing aids, because I hear a burst of static with every flash of lightning, which is annoying. It's passed, for now, and let's hope it doesn't come back, because R and the Gentleman Friend are flying to the U.K. tonight. They'll be there a week, but they're actually going to be at a wedding of a close friend of her from when she lived in Cardiff. And K is house/cat-sitting for them, so, although she'll be home here and there, she's basically away for the week, too. Which means I can do the Wii Fit when I want to, and not when I think she won't be wanting to watch TV in the family room. I did about 20 minutes of aerobics this morning, pretty good for me.

I seem to be having trouble creating paragraphs here today.

I also made sure that I didn't take my standard two hour nap this afternoon so that I sleep better tonight, which may or may not happen, but I'm a little brain-fried at the moment as a result. I'm also really, really hungry, which shouldn't happen, since I made a very nice meal for myself. So now I either need to eat or sleep, I don't know which. Probably eat.



watching THE GOLDEN GIRLS :: ENTRY #2078
READING: ----- by -----

Bad Girl

I have not been so good with the updates lately, partly because I am SOOOOOOOOO TIRED when I get home, and partly because my life is boringly not-unpleasant these days. I did promise to let you hear the library at lunchtime, though; it's here. Turn up the volume.

I'm re-working the library website at school, which is interesting and keeping me occupied, so that was good today.

Big weekend coming up. K turns 25 on Friday, plus Sunday is Easter at the IlS. Going for brunch this year, which means noon; I have no faith whatsoever that the SIL and her family will be there on time. But at least we won't be driving north on the Parkway in all the traffic after dinner.

So, my baby is 25. That's very weird.

And tonight is the first night of Passover. We don't do anything to observe it, but it was so my favorite holiday as a child, a family dinner with Grandpa Sam center stage. It was never about the religion, or even the food, which was ordinary; it was about him. Ah, he was the best.

And so we wish each other a zissen Pesasch, a sweet Passover. Even now, it feels somehow good to know that once we were slaves and became free. There is always hope, and a sweetness to a holiday that commemorates that as spring brings the earth back to life. And for me, memories of Grandpa Sam singing the prayers; Grandma Ida bustling around the table; awful, super-sweet Kosher wine; collecting my little reward of a dollar for bringing the afikomen, the ceremonial matzo, back to the table (kids have to steal it and adults have to ransom it back to continue the service); and tipsy Grandpa laughing all evening after the seder was over and we were singing Had Gad Ya and Dayenu, both of which, now that I look back, were clearly drinking songs, since the tipsier you were, the funnier they got. Next year in Jerusalem! we say at the end of a seder, but my hope for next year is to be here with my family, and with you all.

Ooh, seems to be maudlin day here at the Chai's. Speaking of which, l'chaim! (To life!) And good night.



waiting for FRIENDS :: ENTRY #2021
READING: --- by ---

I Made This in School Today

It was arts and crafts day for me in the library. I had no classes in for instruction until the afternoon, so instead of looking through a catalog and ordering bookmarks (since we're nearly out of them), I downloaded a template from the Office website and made my own. I put quotations on some of them, as suggested in the template, and after I used up the two good library quotations I had, I started going for books, movies, and so on. Now I think I'm going to ask the staff to suggest things for the bookmarks, but I'll wait until after vacation (which is next week), since this week they'll be busy doing grades and stuff.

In other news, no sleep for the weary last night. I slept in five to twenty minute bursts most of the night, although possibly for an hour straight somewhere between three and four. I do not like this at all.

It's a four day week this week, Good Friday, then followed by a whole week off. I just have to keep dragging myself, Quasimodo-like, through the days.


waiting for TWO AND A HALF MEN :: ENTRY #2020
READING: Bel Canto by Ann Patchett

Ironic

I reeeaally, reeeaally want to put on my jammies and climb under the covers, but it's light out, and I can't quite bring myself to do it yet. The ironic part is that I remember clear as a bell those summer evenings when Shirl would pack my into my little seersucker jammies and force me to get into bed even though it was light outside and I could still hear all my friends playing out there. And I wonder where the insomnia came from. (And those seersucker jammies were the suck, btw. I've always been very sensitive to the texture and fit of the clothes I wear; why would she think I could sleep in that scratchy, stiff seersucker?)

The news of the day actually is that I kept myself awake all day at work despite the hour of sleep I got last night. The key, apparently, is to be busy. I was very busy all day and kept myself that way, since the big fear was that I would hit a lull and nod off. I even managed a quick trip to Barnes and Noble after school to get some books that a teacher cleverly put on a required reading list but neglected to mention to me ahead of time.

I want spring. I saw buds on the trees at the ILS' yesterday (about an hour and a half south), but we don't have any yet, just the crocuses and such so far. No forsythia bursting yellow everywhere. And still damn cold in the mornings, although light now when I leave a little after 6:30. (I've become addicted to McDonald's coffee, and the drive-in window is the icing on the cake. Ooh. I could go for some cake.)

R is basically moved to the new place, except for the big furniture and a few random things, which are moving on Saturday. She brought the cat to the new place Friday, which I guess is the indicator of where she's living. I'm told that my grandcat is very happy in her new location, more rooms to explore, and happy to be with her people there.

It may be dark enough by 7:30 for me to respectably call it bedtime. One can only hope.


FRIENDS :: ENTRY #2013
READING: Fool by Christopher Moore

WEEKEND!

We had freaking SNOW this morning, nothing sticking, but a real heavy flurry that was not welcomed by anyone. It turned sunny later in the afternoon, and I think is supposed to go up to the fifties for the weekend. Looks like a good one. We will be spending Sunday on the Garden State Parkway and with the ILs, for the MIL's 80th birthday, which is actually tomorrow.

The retirees' dinner I went to last night was SO MUCH FUN. (I'm all about the capitals today, apparently.) I'm told it was one of their smaller dinners, only about fifteen people, but it was so wonderful to see happy, familiar faces who were happy to see me, and to get caught up. The drive there and back in the car with E, was, as expected, also wonderful. I can really, really tell her anything, and vice versa.

I got home around 10:30, which might as well have been three a.m. I did sleep after, but I was incredibly tired all day. I went for a pedi with the Sibs after school and almost fell asleep in the chair, and did sleep for two hours after I got home. Now I'm just hungry; my leftovers from last night, although delish, were not filling. I'm thinking about going out for ice cream, but I already have my slippers on, so I'm pretty much done for the day.

Not so much enjoying the book I'm reading, but it's a teen thing and I'm going to try to finish it. I've got a few more lined up, which I'd rather be reading. I may *sigh* try some Toni Morrison again. So far, I just don't see what all the fuss is about.



FAMILY GUY :: ENTRY #2011
READING: A Great and Terrible Beauty by Libba Bray

VaCa Day 1

An ordinary start to a vacation, I suppose, nothing bad, nothing much. Oh, it is Valentine's Day, so the Hubs gave me yet another plant-thing, since he now takes it as a personal challenge to give me a plant every Valentine's Day and keep it alive as long as he can despite my occasional presence near it. This year, a dish garden of herbs, which he will plant outside in the spring. I gave him an argyle sweater vest. It's not a big deal to me, Valentine's Day, and not really to him, either.

I slept until 9:40 and took a nap from 1:00 to 2:30 and I'm still exhausted. Not bummed or anything, just dragging. And I had a wonderful breakfast of bagel and lox, which I have not had in some time, and ooh yum, lox. On cream cheese, of course. Ooh yum.

R and the GF are away for a few days, so K and I went over to feed the grandcat a little while ago, and will go tomorrow as part of our normal Sunday Target run. Monday morning I'm having that CAT scan of my liver, and then I'll go feed the little on myself, and then her mommy will be home.

The best news of my day is that my eyes are much, much better today, which means whatever I'm doing to them is right. (What I'm doing is a warm compress at night, followed by eyelid scrubbing, and anti-biotic drops twice a day, plus lubricant drops or gel whenever I need them. But I haven't needed them today.) This is not the inflammatory thing acting up (which is episcleritis), but just your routine blepharitis, which my father had too and which is very common. I didn't realize that what I've been calling allergies for years was probably allergy-triggered blepharitis, so knowing what to do for it now is very good. It means I'll be able to get back to some reading soon, I hope.

Oh! Listen to what I did last night: I had POPCORN! I have not had popcorn in many a year, but you know, the Resnick says I should eat whatever I want and see what happens, and I've been eating some walnuts and almonds in small amounts over the last few weeks with no ill effects. So last night, in my normal semi-awake state (I really am awake, I just don't want to be) and searching for food, I popped a little bag of K's popcorn and I ATE IT ALL and I am not in the Emergency Room yet, so thumbs up for me! Tomorrow, I may pick up a box of popcorn without butter, as I prefer to put on my own or have without, and then I can try it once or twice a week. Just like a grownup!

The Chinese food is on its way. I'm going to go juggle the cars so that when the Hubs gets back with it he can park my car for the night.


LOVE, ACTUALLY :: ENTRY #1988
READING: Their Eyes Were Watching God by Zora Neale Hurston

Entering Phase Two

in which I cease to be too exhausted to move, and begin to eat everything in the house that doesn't eat me first.

At least the exhaustion isn't just me; everyone I talk to at school is wiped out. No idea why. It hasn't snowed this week, or even rained, substantially, and yesterday it was almost 60 degrees, I believe. Today was incredibly windy, and the next two days look like they'll be in the forties. Most of the snow on the ground is gone. Anyway, as I was saying before I was interrupted, everyone is dragging around.

I was going to write a great many clever things tonight, I assure you, but my eye is annoying me, so I'm going to put some ointment in it, which will make reading/writing more of a hope than a reality. See ya tomorrow.



TWO AND A HALF MEN :: ENTRY #1985
READING: Their Eyes Were Watching God by Zora Neale Hurston

Nobody Knows ...

.. the tired I feel.

I actually had to take a break second period today -- so that's like 8:45 -- and go down to the faculty room and close my eyes for twenty minutes. I set the alarm on the phone and yes, it woke me. I fell asleep sitting up on a couch in the faculty room. As much as it pains me, I may have to try to go to sleep tonight at ten, which means no George Lopez, but I gotta be a little pro-active here.

In other news, I went to see Resnick the Gut Doctor today and he said, among other things, that I need a CAT scan of my liver and I need to keep losing weight. Because he suspects there are fat deposits in my liver, which could lead to, among other things, cirrhosis, and I want to tell you, I am not having that. I haven't consumed as much alcohol in my life as your typical sixteen year old, for one, and for two, I haven't been overweight long enough for it to kill my liver. I realize the Resbnick is being diligent, and that's what you want your doctor to do, but I am not having this. Anyway, no emergency; I'm having the CAT scan on President's Day -- February 16 -- when I'm also having blood work, since it's all fasting so a day when there's no school is best.

As for me, as soon as I talk to R, which should be in ten minutes or so, I'm jumping back on the Wii Fit, because it is certainly the cause of my recent loss of about five pounds. I need to do it every day, if I can, instead of three or four times a week, and it's just too bad if it interferes with everybody else's Internet. (Although I just moved the router a little while ago, so maybe that problem is solved.)

Anyway, I hear the Hubs in the kitchen, so that means he's not on the Internet. I can probably fit in my body test before she calls. I wonder how much the pastrami sandwich I just had weighs? I didn't eat the bread, I swear!


WATCHING FAMILY GUY :: ENTRY #1970
READING: Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norell by Susanna Clarke

I Got Nuthin'

Today was fine, as days at work go, but as expected, I was drained of energy by the time I got there and now I'm coasting on momentum. I got more done in anticipation of moving my desk soon, which I can't imagine will actually happen, but it felt good to get that stuff done. As for me, my back hurts, my leg hurts, my knee hurts, and my stomach isn't too happy either. And yet, a smiley day. Go figure.

Today I read the inevitable article about how scientology was the real cause of that poor boy's death, and here's what I want to say about that. I'm not a scientology fan, but I'm not rabidly against it, either, although many people seem to be. As far as I'm concerned, it's a religion to a whole lot of people and I wouldn't want them telling me what to believe, so I don't get to tell them. And the Travoltas seem like they are as loving and conscientious as parents could be, and have done everything they believed was right for that child all his life. Anyone who uses this sad moment to take a shot at scientology is just a jerk and heartless and doesn't deserve to be listened to. It's a family tragedy, not a political (or whatever) opportunity. Let's keep it in that perspective.

Seriously, I can't believe I just wrote a coherent paragraph. I could hardly even focus on the conversations at lunch. As stated previously, I got nuthin'. Perhaps the collapsing time is at hand. Oh god, it isn't even six yet. And needless to say, I did not take down the tree decorations today. (You knew I wouldn't. So did I.)



WATCHING WIFESWAP :: ENTRY #1955
READING: Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norell by Susanna Clarke

How Do You Make an Obsessive-Compulsive Happy?

Stick to the plan.

I was blissfully alone this morning as I got up, Wii'ed, and went about my recently revised morning routine. Not that the Hubs would have gotten in my way if he'd been up; we pass in the morning like ships in the night. But he was taking the day off today so he slept in, and K had nothing to do today so she was going to sleep in, too.

*sigh* I heart my routine. The only strange thing was that when everything that needed to be done was done, and I still had five minutes before leaving the house, I crashed. I sat down to read diaries, and suddenly my eyes got heavy and started to close. I pulled myself together and came to work, but once the testing started in the building and the library was empty, I put my head down on my desk for ten minutes and more or less slept. Very strange, because I both slept last night and had nice solid protein for breakfast. (When I'm Crohnish, I crave protein, and could have eggs three times a day.)

Ah, the sleeping. In response to a comment, I did try melatonin several years ago, but it had no effect on me at all. The Valerian Root Oil capsules that I'm taking now, though, are very good. Even the nights I've had trouble falling asleep for the last week -- and that was caused by a late phone call that disrupted my sleep routine for many days -- the Valerian helps me sleep more deeply once I do fall asleep. So I'm a fan of the Valerian.

Why, you may wonder, does K have nothing to do today? Ah, the joy of being the parent of a crazed student. I have these two daughters, you know. R started to read on her own at three, did a book report on The Little House in the Big Woods in kindergarten, did fourth grade math in first grade, and then proceeded to never do homework as long as she lived, and never care whether any assignment was in on time or at all. She got good SAT scores and decent, but not outstanding, grades. As long as her English teachers kept giving her books to read that weren't in the curriculum, she was happy.

The other one, however, learned to read in kindergarten like everyone else, and was on grade level with all her other subjects, but always complained about every assignment: she would never finish it on time, she would fail, she couldn't do it. Naturally, I assumed that this one was a struggling student; it took me years to realize that she was the crazy bright one, but had stress issues. I don't think she every missed a homework assignment from first grade up, and I don't know if she ever got less than an A in anything except advanced science in high school. She even got A's in math in high school, although she retained absolutely none of it. (That's my kid.) Whereas the other one intuitively understood all math (thanks to her dad) just as she had intuited reading; the only reason she didn't get A's was because she didn't do the homework. She got A's on all the tests.

I digress. K's big final project for her Methods of Teaching class is due on Thursday. It's the biggest deal in the education program other than student teaching. It's a teaching unit that consists of a minimum of six lessons. Early last week, she said she was going to get started on it, but with the holiday coming, she didn't see how she could finish it. She would have to work all day Friday, for starters, but we ended up having lunch with the Hubs' family on Friday. Oh, she was so behind!

(Note: I did not know at this point that "get started on it" meant that she already had her complete outline and four or five of the lessons done.)

She worked all weekend. No, it was never gonna happen, and if it did, it wouldn't be what her professors wanted. She couldn't fit it into six lessons; it was looking more like ten. It would be too long. It wouldn't be enough. And anyway, she had four other minor assignments to do, also due on Thursday. Couldn't be done.

We discussed some of it Sunday night. She said that on Monday she would show what crap she had to one of the professors so she would have time to do it all over, but then he didn't show up for his office hours. Yesterday morning, I printed it out for her in school -- about 125 pages -- and she went and got a binder and plastic sleeves and put it together. She made an appointment to see the other professor, who looked it over and beamed at her. It was perfect, he said, and wouldn't even give it back to her for more tweaking; consider it turned in. And about those other four assignments, he would speak to his co-teacher and see if he could get those cut back.

After dinner last night, she said, I don't know what to do! Should I take a break now? Work all day tomorrow? I still have that other stuff to do! An hour later, she came back downstairs and said she was all done.

It's exhausting to be her parent. But she's gonna be the most prepared teacher in America once she gets going.

Oh, and I was going to comment on the so-called Christmas wars thing. If someone says Merry Christmas or Happy Holidays to me, it's all the same, and I take it in the spirit it was meant. Everybody needs to chill out on this one. When you are a minority in a country or an area, you need to accept that the world is not being tailored to you. I sang Christmas carols in school as a child, and with the Girl Scouts, and that's the way it was, even when my class was 90% Jewish and so was the teacher teaching us the songs. (I remember Mr. Miller the music teacher, who was both Jewish and gay before any of us knew what gay was, teaching us In Excelcis Deo in 7th grade chorus, and I thought it was such a beautiful song.) Those of us in these religious minorities, whatever they happen to be, either need to get used to the way it is here or live someplace else where it's different. No one is forcing us to believe, or even behave, in any way, which is what the Constitution protects us from. And if someone in a store says Merry Christmas to a Muslim, the Constitution protects the right to do that, too. It's not meant as an offense, it's meant as a gesture of goodwill. Take it from whence it comes, and let the rest go.


WATCHING FAMILY GUY :: ENTRY #1926
READING: The Secret Life of Bees by Sue Monk Kidd

Still Here

Yes, I am still here. I don't know why that surprises me; it's not as if I'm going anyplace else. What I need is a couple of days of solid sleep, which is not happening in this life, so I guess I'm saying I'm still here -- upright, typing -- as opposed to sleeping my life away. Would that t'were.

Okay, I finished the slide show, and it's long, and it's mountains and stuff, y' know. The music sounds a little dramatic, but it was really the only choice. The first song is called "Fanfare for the Common Man," the second one, which you know from the beef commercials, is called "Appalachian Spring." (I'm pushing the video down farther on the page because I'm having a spacing problem, but it's there somewhere.)

I think part of my blahs is the whole time-change thing, which, as I've said before, you'd think I'd be used to by now. I don't think it's the light that I miss as much as it's the dark I don't like. In other words, it's not physical Season Affective Disorder as it is that emotionally, I don't like the dark. Now that's clear.

I don't want to do anything constructive (although I did make the video.) My desk is cluttered, I have things to put away in the living room and the kitchen, and I don't care. All I want to do is climb under the covers and read. I haven't even been playing games much on the iPhone recently, just reading.

Ooh, I just remembered, I bought some cheesecake before. At last, something I want to do.

Make photo slide shows at www.OneTrueMedia.com

WATCHING TWO AND A HALF MEN :: ENTRY #1906
READING: The Nine by Jeffrey Toobin

My Brains Iz Addled

There was no heat in the library today, for a change, and all the freshmen, it seemed, lost their ID cards over the long weekend. School was fun today!

I need to make a slide show of all my pictures from the trip, which I'll post for you to see, if you want. All I need is some time and a bit of a clear head, so there may be a wait.

I finally called someone to come and deal with the mice! He's coming Wednesday after school, and is going put out bait, he said, that will make the mice leave the house. I don't know what that is, and I'm not asking. I made it clear that I do not want dead mice in my house, which he says he will take care of. So that's one step taken care of. Now I have to get a handyman to fix up the closet upstairs a little bit, sheetrock the walls and put in a new closet rod. Did I mention that the chimney goes right up through that closet? Yes, it's a very well-designed house. The thing about the chimney though is that when we had a new furnace put in some years ago, it was re-vented so the exhaust (or whatever) goes out the side of the house, and not up the chimney. (It was more efficient that way, or blah blah blah.)

Speaking of the chimney, when we moved into our house 23 years ago next week, little R noticed the chimney on top and all the swaying trees, and said to me, "If something falls down the chimney, what happens to it?" I was thinking, you know, leaves, so I said "Oh, it falls down into the furnace and gets burned up." And her little eyes got huge and her chin started to quiver, and I thought "WTF?" and then realized and said "But not Santa! Oh no, not Santa! He doesn't fall down the chimney, he goes down by magic, so it's all different! Santa will be FINE!" So that was a crisis averted. (We must have had a chimney on the house we lived in before, but it was a big, two-family house, and I guess it was in a place where she never saw it.)

I digress. I ran many errands after school today, including a trip to Barnes and Noble to buy a double set of all those Twilight books, since they're in high demand in the library (but now I have to schlep them all in tomorrow morning), and my gift for the holiday kids' list -- I don't know, we choose requests from a school in a nearby city and get a kid what he or she wants, so I had to go to Toys R Us (the horror of it) and get a Bratz thing (yes, I was humiliated). For years, I used to buy an Easy Bake Oven and tell the teacher in charge of the program to give me whichever kid wanted an Easy Bake Oven, but no more of that, it seems. Kids don't want Easy Bake Ovens anymore? What is this world coming to?

Anyway, I am totally wiped out, and I don't wanna pick out my clothes for tomorrow or make my lunch or even set up the coffee. I do wanna take my hearing aids off and lay down my weary head. And sleep like a human, although I'm not so much expecting that one.


WATCHING KEITH OLBERMAN :: ENTRY #1905
READING: The Nine by Jeffrey Toobin

I Want to Go To Sleeeeep NOOOOOOOWW

I'm not, of course; I'm staying up to watch the debate, or at least make sure I record it, because I can't imagine I'll be awake through the whole thing. I keep remembering the presidential debate in 1976. (Yes, I'm old.) Let me recap for you.

It was a debate between Jimmy Carter, who no one had pretty much ever heard of, and Gerald Ford, the incumbent president who had never been elected, but was considered a really nice guy by just about everyone. I was watching the debate alone in my room at th3e graduate students' dorm at Rutgers University. So it's rolling along, and there was some kind of question about Poland, and Soviet influence there, and Ford -- the president -- said something along the lines of "Poland is not under Soviet influence. It never has been. I don't think the people of Poland think they're living under Soviet influence."

It was a huge giant DUH. Jimmy Carter's jaw dropped; it took him a minute to come up with a response. I don't remember who was moderating, but he was speechless, too, and everyone in the audience just watched like it was a car wreck. I yanked open the door of my room and ran into the hallway, where every door was opening and suddenly people who never spoke to each other were all asking "Did you see that? Did you SEE that? Did you see THAT?"

It was a moment. Perhaps there will be such a one tonight. It was considered a significant event in Ford's loss to Carter in the election.

Anyway, moving on. I am just too tired; I hope I sleep tonight. Once Bill Maher's show is on, I should be good. I love that show, but it always puts me to sleep, and I record it, so after it's been on, if I wake up again I just start it over, and it runs in a loop all night, which is good for me. I'll actually watch the show tomorrow when I'm sitting up at my desk. Tonight should be a good one, too, right after the debate.

I just ate some baked fish that I had in the freezer, and I am still starving. I've got another piece in there, but I don't know. I really do need some gourmet chef from somewhere to get into the habit of stopping by my house every day around five with leftovers from all the classes he's taught that day. Yeah, that's the ticket. That would work.

My cousin sent me some more pictures from the wedding, so now I actually have a few of the bride and groom. Nice, since I didn't actually take any of them myself. There were other pictures, too, and my daughters, of course, look beautiful. I look, in a word, fat. In another word, old. Although now that I look at them again, I can't say I look especially disfigured in them, which is how I see myself in most pictures, so I guess that's good. And I don't think I actually was fat, I think that I turn my head a certain way when I'm being photographed to avoid the whole disfigured thing, and it makes my face look wider, somehow. Of course, the double chin doesn't enhance anything, but that's not fat, that's genetics; my mother had a double chin when she weighted 110 pounds. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.


WATCHING GILMORE GIRLS :: ENTRY #1864
READING: Welcome to the World, Baby Girl! by Fannie Flagg

Dear Heavens

It's ten after six. How on earth am I going to go out at 7.30? I'm considering closing my eyes for the next hour or so, if I can, but then what will tonight bring? Sleep, I'm thinking, but maybe not. Oh well, if I can't sleep, I can catch up on my Law and Orders.

Play tonight at the high school; I'm meeting the Colleague there. It's opening night. I don't know how many kids asked me today if I was planning to see the play, and when I said I was coming tonight, they got all excited. Freshmen can be so cute sometimes.\

I had five nice classes today, but our computer lab was sub-zero, about 15 degrees colder than it was at my desk, about ten feet away (but on the other side of a wall/door.) And so it goes.

No big missions today, still haven't gotten my CVS bargains, but I did clear out the clog in the bathroom sink. Go me. This is the excitement that is my life.

Okay, I'm going to see if I can catch twenty winks, or at least ten.

WATCHING MASH :: ENTRY #1747

So I'm Thinking ...

I am so tired and I have so much to do after school today, I'd better write this now -- about 1.45 -- and post it later. And maybe have something actually interesting to say then, although I doubt it.

We journeyed south yesterday, down the Garden State Parkway to where all the old people live, for the FIL's 80th birthday. We brought his sister and her husband, who live in Bizarro Town, with us. It was really a very nice day. The niece and nephew on that side are really turning into lovely people as they hit adulthood, although their father was at his goofiest best yesterday. (He's suspicious of everyone -- not family, just anyone else who might be trying to cheat him -- and was telling some crazy tales yesterday. Among other things, his town started picking up the trash earlier, before he put his barrels out, and this infuriated him so much that he boxed up two weeks of trash and mailed it to the town hall. Oh yes. And then they moved the pick-up back to the old time, which I'm sure was a coincidence, but he thinks he won.)

For my newest trick, I'm having a lot of discomfort in my arms and hands, especially my right arm. It's hard to write by hand. Part of this all is the tennis elbow coming back, so I made an appointment to see the physician's assistant at the orthopedist's office next week. We'll see what all this is. (I know, I know; as I said to my sister, How long you been using those arms? But it's worth looking into, there may be an exercise or something I can do.)

I never had time to shop for food over the weekend and I got nothing, so I have to go this afternoon, even though my usual shopping partner, K, will be in class. I'd also like to return something to Target, if I can, not to mention get to CVS for the great toilet paper/paper towel/liquid Tide sale, but I may have to put that one off until tomorrow. Tomorrow night I'm coming back to school to see the drama club's play, which was written by the club's advisor. I've actually seen this before, but he's staging it completely differently this time, so I'm curious to see how that is.

I got an email today, out of the blue, from the person I have called here the HMM [the Horrible Mean Man], who was the head librarian here before he retired and I got his job and the SCM was hired for mine. He is not so actually horrible when I don't have to work with him, and he did retire 18 years ago, so I guess I ought to let that all go. Anyway, he and his wife will be in the area next week and they want to come by and see the new library. Now, here's the irony. When he retired, I used to say that my goal was that one day when he came back to visit, the library would be so changed that he wouldn't even recognize it anymore. So hey, be careful what you wish for, eh? Laughs on me, ho ho ho. Anyway, he'll be by a week from Thursday.

This Thursday, of course, is my long awaited needle biopsy, thought with any luck, the ultrasound that comes first won't show them anything worth sticking a needle into. (I'm not keeping my hopes up.) Again, not that I'm at all freaked out over this because I know it's nothing, but really, getting a big needle stuck into your boobie? That just falls into the category of Nobody Likes It. But you gotta do what you gotta do. In other words -- you knew this was coming -- que sera, sera.

(Oh, bluesleepy mentioned in a comment last week about que sera, sera and my saying that not everyone gets it; she said "What's not to get?" You have to forgive me. I spend lots of time with people aged 14 to 18, and there is just a whole lot of common knowledge that they don't have yet. I've had to explain it to every kid so far who's noticed it. They never heard that before.)

Okay, I'm going to stop typing now because apparently that hurts my hands, too. I'm going to have to get one of those Stephen Hawking things that you blow into the end of the tube and it communicates for you. Or something.

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Back from my many missions, and now I'm not just tired, I'm hot and I have a headache. (I am what they called in the old country a kvetch.) No idea what I'm having for dinner, but at the moment, I'm thinking ice cream. Or maybe just tylenol.

WATCHING MASH :: ENTRY #1746

About the Tired. And All That.

As the empress suggests in her comments, The Tired is most likely due to the Crohn's, or to the medication for Crohn's, or a combination of the two. I don't think it's because of my night-time sleeping patterns, because let's face it, I've had insomnia since I was twelve, and I can't pin that on the Crohn's.

After school yesterday, I did a few errands. I picked up my glasses (which seem fine), went to Walgreen's (which was out of my size hearing aid batteries, and I beat it out of there when I saw someone I knew up one of the aisles and I didn't want to get bogged down in conversation), and to the supermarket. The walk through the supermarket is not exhausting in and of itself, because I'm hanging onto the cart for support, but it's always hot by the checkout -- I took my coat off -- and then walking out to the car with just my two bags, I thought "Oh. I'm a completely different person now."

Then I realized that this was not so much a huge revelation as it was a "here we go again." Despite what many of us think, that we are who we are and always have been, every so often we change into a whole other person, the way a caterpillar becomes a butterfly. (Which sounds so lovely, but trust me, my transformations are not as poetic.) I am not troubled by this transformation, I just hadn't gotten it in my head yet that here it was again. But even as I huffed and puffed my way to the car, I knew that this was different from "last time," which was, of course, after the brain surgery, but in my next thought I realized that I've undergone many other changes since then, since the brain surgery 16 years ago.

Of course we change naturally over time, puberty and all that crap, and no one will deny that being pregnant and giving birth changes your body. Even so, I think when my kids were little, I did not so much feel changed in who I was. I was still always in overdrive. I did everything I wanted or needed to do. I worked, I took care of the kids. I cooked what needed to be cooked, and cleaned what absolutely needed to be cleaned. I took care of everything. I was tired all the time, but never really tired enough to keep me from doing what I needed to do.

Brain surgery shifted my paradigm, so to speak. I was forced to be someone other than that get-everything-done person, at least for a period of time. People took care of me on a grand scale, and I had never really experienced that before. I liked to say that I learned that it was okay to let other people do that, and to let other people take care of things I had always done, but in truth, that was a short-lived lesson. As soon as I was able to, I went back to being who I was, but with modifications. I did regain some strength and stamina. I went back to managing multiple Girl Scout troops, to working long hours at school on extra-curricular activities, and on full-time with my kids. The real change in me after the brain surgery was that I became much more thoughtful about raising my children, and listening to what I said and didn't say to them, and learning not to sweat the small stuff with them. To pick my battles. Having brain surgery made me a much, much better mother, because I had been given a glimpse into an alternate world where I might not have continued to be their mother. Although on the whole, I would prefer not to have a hearing loss, I always think of the brain surgery as generally a positive thing that happened to me, not a negative. And now you know why.

Since then, I have been experiencing the Wonderful World of Menopause, which brings its own changes, most of them really annoying. Combined with the WWM are the natural changes that come with aging. When my menopause adventure began, I was 42, and had just taken a car trip to DisneyWorld with my kids and my sister and hers, and I had done all the driving, all the planning, all the managing. I was a freaking dynamo, and then all this other stuff started, and it was hard adjusting for a while, especially to the mood swings. But then things changed when my mother became ill, and Shirl Is Dying took over everything. Certainly the hardest period in my life. I did not adjust to well to all that, had constant stomach pain, and ultimately went to therapy, which helped a great deal. During this time, I developed high cholesterol, high blood pressure, and god knows what else, and I was in a continual state of overdrive. And it only really ended when Shirl died, which kicked off another whole cycle of change and adjustment and new-me-ness, which had barely gotten started before Jack died nine months later. I was an orphan. I learned to live my life as an orphan -- I know that sounds goofy and overdramatic -- but it was a change and had to be dealt with. When your parents are dead, you are the adult, and there is no escaping from that.

And there was a kind of free falling feeling. Overdrive was no longer my required mode of being. I no longer had to spend every day after work running to help my parents, or doing something for my kids. My parents were dead and both of my kids were away at college. Life took on a much easier, more pleasant pace. This was a very peaceful period in my life. I finished going to therapy. This period lasted two years, the two years that both kids were away. Then they came home, one and then the other, but still, things were okay because having adult daughters who are your friends is so cool. Yes, there are moments, and dishes in the sink, but time will take care of all that. I didn't need to be in overdrive, just drive, during this time. My time was my own and I could do what I wanted, sometimes with a buddy along.

And now. Overdrive is out of the question, of course. Drive would be nice, and if it's not there most of the time, well, hey.

At some point recently, maybe even before I got sick, I had an interesting series of thoughts. I have been married 30 years, we have lived in our house 20 years. I am 55. I will live another 20 years, or maybe 30. I'm likely to get to 75, unlikely to go past 85. It was the first time I thought of my lifespan as having a finite end. It was a little bit of a disturbing thought. The last 20 years -- or 30 -- went by so fast. What if all the years I have left go by the same way? I was starting to think of my life and what's left of it as being very short. And then I got so sick, and then I got my diagnosis.

The time ahead of me suddenly does not seem short. It seems okay. I don't know why knowing I have a chronic disease for the rest of my life changed that, but it did. (Although I still have to wonder about certain things fitting into that timespan ahead of me, like grandchildren and watching them grow up. Where the hell are my grandchildren already? My parents and grandparents both had grandchildren by the time they were 55!) When I am Tired, I just am; I can't do anything about it, so why should I despair that I can no longer function in overdrive as I once did? I'm not even supposed to be in overdrive anymore; I spent so much time taking care of every detail for the last 35 years that they're just all taken care of. I'm not quite as sharp as I've been, but I think that's also either the Crohn's or the meds, and that will come back when I've got things more under control medically. And I am not sweating small stuff. At. All. Why bother? Why care? Don't worry, be happy. You know?

So even when I'm Tired, I'm okay. Today after school I'm going to get my nails done, and then go home and get K and we will vote and then pick some stuff up for dinner. Sounds like just the right plan for me.

WATCHING GILMORE GIRLS :: ENTRY #1672

In My Absence, I ...

[copied from dland]

I more or less forgot to write yesterday. I remembered after 9, by which time I'm generally semi-comatose, so I thought I'd spare you all the incoherence. And now here I am.

I've been very tired lately, which is not all that different from not-lately, so I took a nice long nap when I got home yesterday. Today K and I went to the mall after school on an errand or two. Otherwise, let's see.

R is in Philadelphia on a business trip. How weird is it to say that? She says she's in an absolutely huge hotel room, which is of course all paid for by her employers. She'll be back late tomorrow afternoon, and is actually taking the train from the city here to Bizarro Town, since the trains don't run at those times to where she lives, and we'll drive her home later.

The coolest thing, though, is that she sent me an image via email of the poster that will advertise the high school's spring play, with her name very prominently displayed after Written by. I am kvelling my brains out here. It's the wallpaper on my home computer (it being still unadvertised in school.) I expect to get a real printed poster from the club to hang. Heaven knows I'll be buying a mass amount of play tickets, since everyone I know will have to go see it. The ILs are even coming up to see the matinee, with the FIL presumably riding around on his new scooter.

My baby, in the meantime, has an interview next week to start substitute teaching. Where? Oh, you know. None of us can get away from that place, it seems, ever.

Speaking of which, I began my career there, at good ol' Bizarro Town High School, 30 years ago today. Just making note of it.

What else can I tell you? Oh, yesterday Media Girl commented on how nice my eyes looked with the eyeshadow, so I'm all psyched over that. Somebody finally looked at me, I guess. Although K told me today she liked it, too. I guess it's just hard to miss eyeshadow; you can otherwise look like your skin has somehow assumed a healthy glow, but your eyelids will rarely sprout a color combination of mermaid/spring rose.

Oh, and it appears I have a new medical condition, because, you know, it's a day that ends in y. For the last couple of months, since I broke that bone in my right leg and was on the crutches, really, I have had this weird pain in my left foot. It hurts when I first get out of bed in the morning and walk on it; it feels like there's a big rock in my shoe, except I'm barefoot. It's in my left heel. Once I'm up and walking, I'm okay, but if I sit still for awhile and get up, it feels the same. I mentioned to the doctor last week only that I have occasional pain in my feet, which she said was probably arthritis, which most of it probably is, but I didn't go into detail about the specific thing with my left heel. Then, last night, for some reason I Googled plantar fasciitis and this is what came up:

When your first few steps out of bed in the morning cause severe pain in the heel of your foot, you may have plantar fasciitis.

Bingo! There's more, but it's like I could have written it myself. So that must be what it is; fortunately, keeping the foot flexed stretches that muscle (or whatever) and helps a lot. Each time I woke up last night (which I do frequently) I would remember and flex my foot and it was much better this morning. I think I'll pass on the medical attention for this one, unless it gets worse.

Not much planned for the weekend, except the gym, I hope, and R tomorrow evening. This is going to sound odd as an afterthought, but I have a graveside funeral to go to on Sunday; my sister's mother-in-law passed away yesterday. Let us just say that she was not a nice person in life, and had no interest in her son, who yet cared for her in her last few years as devotedly as any son could. So there's that, a brief ceremony being held more for his sister who's flying in from somewhere or other than for him. This is a sister who couldn't have been bothered to visit her mother in life for over 25 years. Families are so weird.

But I'll write tomorrow, I should think.


WATCHING REBA :: ENTRY #1365

It's So Late

[copied from dland]

Oy, it's after 8:00 pm and I'm awake -- what's wrong with this picture? Yesterday, I put myself down on the bed after school "for my back," and two hours later I was fighting to wake up, so today I didn't allow myself to be horizontal. K napped, and then we went to the supermarket and then had some dinner and I've been doing this and that since then and now I'm ready to drop.

I just got email from my Good Guy Nephew's fiancée with their wedding date: September 12, 2008. 2008? That's a two year engagement, which seems like a long time for people who've known each other since middle school. (Okay, they've only been a couple for ... wait, that's two or three years already; I can't keep track, but it's not a recent thing.) Well, I guess that gives me time to lose 35 pounds and for both my daughters to come up with some men-folk of their own. I swear, it's going to take a hundred years for any of my sister's kids to make her a grandma. So far, it looks like her best shot is the 17 year old, and even that won't be until after he's out of college. (Although she does have an adorable step-grandbaby via her husband's daughter. But we need a local grandbaby, dammit.)

So my sense of self-discovery is going to a new level this weekend, as I've just acquired my medical records so that I can bring them to the new doctor on Wednesday. I wonder just what's in there, although I have a reasonable idea. Actually, I'm going through it to make copies of some things, like the report on the brain tumor, which I had a copy of once but I more or less lost it. It'll be like taking a trip down memory lane, but in the handicapped lane. I'm either getting a good laugh or a serious depression out of this one. I'll let you know.

In the meantime, when we went to the supermarket before, guess what we bought?

PIE!

Yes, it's the once or twice a year when I satisfy my constant need for PIE. We got a strawberry pie; no idea why, but you seldom see that, just strawberry pie. I used to make that years ago, when I baked more often.

I made kick-ass pies, btw, because I learned to make pie-crust from a master baker, my OldFriend's Grandma Fritzi, who was an amazing baker. How I learned her secret pie recipe and her daughter and granddaughter didn't is another whole story, but once I knew, I used to make pies all the time. I think my pie-need is the crust, actually, since I'm not particular about the filling. I would sometimes use the canned filling but make my own crust, sometimes do the whole thing from scratch. (Grandma Fritzi's specialty was peach pie, as it happens, of which I'm not a huge fan.)

So I'm going to have some pie now and then fall asleep on the couch. And tomorrow I get to yell at my sister for forgetting to tell me that her son and his fiancée set the date, even though I talked to her for a half hour before. She's a bit of a ditz sometimes, I think, but I'll keep her.


WATCHING REBA :: ENTRY #1354

Ahem

[copied from dland]

Yes. I used the word irregardless, with tongue planted somewhat irreverently in cheek.

I have two little mini-rants today, both about school. Here's the first one.

I have a very nice new display case in the hall outside the library doors. It opens from the front, something I've always wanted, although the doors are sliding, so the whole front can't be all open at once, which makes it hard to put big things in there. Whatever. Yesterday, I put in a nice display using some World War II service newspapers that the head of the history department lent me, along with some local newspapers of the same time (with headlines about Pearl Harbor and such, and local boys signing up at their draft boards), as well as an item or two of my father's, and the book The Greatest Generation. I saw that the light fixture on the ceiling, so to speak, of the display case, had no bulb, so when the custodian came by I mentioned it, and he got a long fluorescent bulb and put it in.

And the two of us stood there and looked and looked and looked and looked. There is no switch to turn the light on. No where no how. Not in the display case, not in the nearby storeroom or electrical closet. It's an electrical fixture that's connected to nothing and cannot be turned on or off.

Moving on.

Kids cannot walk in corridors or stairways anymore.

I do not know why, or when this happened. True, I've avoided hallway traffic as much as possible for the last 30 years, but it's only really since we moved that I notice that people do not walk on the right side of the hall and leave the other side for oncoming traffic. The surging crowd fills up the entire space, and woe to someone coming the other way, who has to squeeze sideways against the lockers (or stairway railings.) If there's an equal sized crowd coming the other way, then they split the hall half-and-half, but if it's a time when most of the traffic is moving the same way -- like leaving the cafeteria after lunch -- it's a one-way street. The halls in the new building are wide, but the stairs are all narrow, so that there can never be more than a single-file in each direction at once, but it's generally a crowd coming one way, up or down. Very weird.

I have so much to do in the house but I am mega-tired, even though I've been sleeping okay. R is loving her new job. I just got home and K is at the eye doctor, so I'm going to see if I can nap just a wee bit before she gets back.


WATCHING DR. PHIL :: ENTRY #1345