California love

So I got the idea from Hilly to come up with this list. I figured it would be would be helpful, given the dark mood I've been in lately, to come up with some stuff that I actually like. So here goes ...

Why the Empress Is Happy to Live in California

1. Carne asada burritos from Roberto's in San Diego. One of the things I have missed since graduating from undergrad. I find myself periodically dreaming about them. I've had some good burritos elsewhere but none have made me want to drive two hours for one.

I once drove to San Diego from L.A. with the express purpose of getting a couple of burritos. Well, and also stopping at my fave bar. But that's all the trip consisted of -- burritos and cocktails. And this was on a Friday evening after working all week. Insane, huh?

2. Tilden Park in the Berkeley hills. I still get a kick out of going by the Little Farm up there. Just as much as I did when I was a kid. And the Jewel Lake trail? The Botanical Garden? Totally calming.

3. That certain block of Lombard Street in San Francisco. You know the one. The one dubbed as the "crookedest street in the world." Now I know that this is a usual tourist destination but the key here is to go later in the evening. Say around 10 p.m. or so. Late enough that the pesky tourists are not around. You can take the street a little faster then. Kind of an adult version of Mr. Toad's Wild Ride.

4. The California State Fair. Sure you've got the livestock exhibits and crafts and rides. But there's also harness racing. Oh, and let's not forget the wine competition. Oh, and food. There's a vendor who's been there a few years at least who makes scrumptious fried catfish. If you catch him at the right time, there's peach cobbler too. And finally, the concerts. Of course, I usually luck up and get the VIP tickets. This means reserved seating with a catered meal. And lots of free beer and wine. Plus it is so much fun to sing along with a bunch of strangers to the likes of The B-52s and The Doobie Brothers.

5. Not having to pack away seasonal wardrobes like I did when I lived in Virginia. I love living in a place in which the climate is fairly stable. I like to say that in NorCal we have two seasons -- wet and dry. I love sweaters and I love that I can wear my wool sweaters the majority of the year.

6. And speaking of Virginia, I love that the houses out here are painted a variety of colors. In Virginia, everything was either white or beige or brick. Boring. I love the technicolor display of houses. It seems so alive and vibrant.

7. The laidback feeling at times. Even though Berkeley liberals can be irritating at times, I still love them. They're part of the reason why I chose to live here. Probably because there is such a variety in personal expression. It's all cool. If I had stayed in Virginia, I probably never would have pierced my nose. Last summer when I was looking for a job (That seems to be a recurring thing.), my relatives in the South asked, "Do you think it's wise to pierce your nose while looking for a job?" Heck yeah. It's becoming pretty common around here. Just like how folks compare what kind of ink they have. Reminder to self -- must see about getting some ink in the near future.

8. Proximity to both the beach and the snow. Not that I go to either very often but I like the idea of being able to.

9. My commute when I worked in South San Francisco. I learned how to avoid the hell that is known as 80. If I took that route home, it would take me at least 90 minutes to get home. My alternate route took one hour. Skyline Boulevard to Great Highway to Lincoln. Cut through Golden Gate Park to Park Presidio to the Golden Gate Bridge. Then a quick jaunt through Marin County to the Richmond-San Rafael Bridge. Once while driving home, I was speaking to one of my uncles who now lives in Alabama. He said, "You have to have one of the most beautiful commutes." During daylight savings time when the sun is just starting to set and there are pelicans flying over the ocean? Breathtaking. It's one of those things that I take for granted of which I have to remind myself periodically.

10. And finally, one of my other favorite drives. Taking Coleman Valley Road from Occidental out to the coast. I love the juxtaposition of one minute being in rolling green farmland and the next being at the rocky coast.

So if you feel like joining in, try to come up with ten non-traditional as to why you love the state in which you live.

What I miss

It seems like this is going to become a Memorial Day tradition for me -- taking care of Dumb and Dumber. The good news is that they seem to have mellowed in the last year and so there was a lot less barking. Well, that's what I thought up until Sunday. Then on Sunday they seemed bent on making up for all that missed barking. At least this time there were no visits from the scary neighbor. In another year, the dogs will be in another home.

My friend's mother passed away right before Memorial Day last year. As an only child, she sold her mother's home in Marin County and used the money to buy another home in Berkeley. The new home is closer to where I live. In fact I could walk there if so inclined. The new home also needs a great deal of work -- something like six to eight months. But they figured this all out. Her husband, who is a fantastic carpenter, quit his job months ago so that he could work on whatever home they purchased. When they move, they will rent out the old house.

My main concern is if the yard at the new house will be as great as the one they have now. I know it will be eventually but by next Memorial Day. They've lived in this house for about fifteen years and enjoy gardening. There is an abundance of flowers. In the summer there are vegetables. Oh, and I spied some strawberries early Sunday morning. This is what I miss. Having a yard. Getting up on a Sunday morning and sitting at the table in the yard, sipping on my tea.

I came to this realization Saturday evening. My friends had offered to stock whatever I wanted but I told them that wouldn't be necessary. I took a container of the jambalaya out of the freezer and brought it over. But what to drink? And then I spied all of the ripe lemons on the tree. There is nothing like fresh lemonade. I believe their tree is a Eureka. Now it would have truly been an experience if it had been a Meyers like the tree at my aunt's house. But fresh lemons are fresh lemons. And the lemonade was wonderful. So wonderful that I managed to drink the whole pitcher Saturday evening. Which of course meant another trip into the yard on Sunday so that I could make another batch.

If it wasn't so out of my price range, I think I would try to rent the house from them when they move. But then I remember all of the things that I'd miss at my current place. Like being able to walk to so many wonderful places. I guess you can't have it both ways.

In a funk

It seems that I probably managed to alienate most of the folks in my life by the time I went to bed Friday night. (OK. Probably just Queenie and Dumbest. Oh, and it seems that somewhere along the way I goofed on Dumbest's age. He's two years younger than I previously thought.) I'm talented like that.

This meant that the majority of my contact this weekend was of the animal form. Oh, and loads of DVDs. To-date I have made it through at least ten movies. They started off light and funny and eventually became very dark. I don't think those last few helped much. Even if they were rather good. Oh, and there was some reading. I found a copy of Reading Lolita in Tehran on the shelf so I started reading it.

I toyed with the idea of heading out on Saturday night and again on Sunday night. I just can't seem to motivate and to get out of this funk. I think I've been on a downward spiral since about February or so and it's just all starting to catch up with me. By Sunday, part of me wanted to cry but I just couldn't get the tears all the way out. Probably just as well that I stayed in. Because when I go out in this kind of mood, I'm just one evil bitch. No, really. I will sit around looking for the smallest of slights just so that I can have the pleasure of ripping you a new one.

I keep thinking that once the school year is over I can start to pull myself out of this mood. Thank goodness there are only three weeks left.

Can I subtract some years?

You've Experienced 64% of Life

You have all of the life experience that most adults will ever get. And unless you're already in your 40s, you're probably wise beyond your years.

How Much Life Experience Do You Have?

And now I am going to go back to sleep. If that's OK with Dumb and Dumber. And try not to think about my conversation with Dumbest (Thank you, Jill, for that name.) last night.

Getting my craft on

It seems like the theme this week is getting my craft on at work. Thursday night is open house. Therefore I needed the wow factor in my room. The math coach suggested an art project that is related to adding fractions. I spent last night cutting out construction paper shapes in preparation of starting this activity today.

Oh, and then there's the whole art fair theme of open house. It would seem like one of the veteran teachers could have shared this tidbit sooner. It seems that our bulletin boards in the main hallway have to be art displays. Well, that's what I already had up. The problem is that it has to be fresh art. And no two bulletin boards can be the same. The teacher spearheading this endeavor finally left an art book in the staff room last week. I chose Escher and started teaching my kids how to make tessellations yesterday. Please let us have them done by Wednesday at the latest.

And the art work didn't end here. My kids have completed their story for their film. As of yesterday, they started drawing the pictures for the various characters and settings. These will later be animated. And sometime in the next week or so, we will walk the few blocks so that the kids can record the story. But before that, we'll probably do a tour. And I think I'm more excited about that than the kids are. But the really impressive thing? The guy who has been working with my kids said that he shared their story with the story writers at his job. They were impressed. So am I.

Finally this afternoon is the junior version of SnB. Most of the bitching comes in the form of, "But it doesn't look right." I keep bringing my own project but I get very little of it done. I'm hoping that things will change soon.

Getting ready for duty

Back in April, I bought this item in blue when I was at Ikea with my mom. The cats did not seem to take to it. Most mornings I awoke to find it collapsed on the floor. Now apparently Natasha has claimed it as her own. Last night as she was exiting, I discovered why. I found a pen and one of my lighters hidden in the tent. I will have to be more vigilant with my belongings now I see.

I awoke yesterday morning with the best of plans once more. I was going to do something I hadn't done in some time -- go to the movies. I narrowed down my choices to Fay Grim and Waitress. Waitress won out since Fay Grim will be on DVD on Tuesday. (And I'm really excited about it now that I know it's the sequel to Henry Fool, one of the many movies I own.) The big problem is that Waitress is not playing at one of the three theaters near my home. I was going to have to drive. And I goofed on the start time of the movie. By the time I was ready to go, it was fifteen minutes to show time. So I decided to put it off. Maybe next weekend.

And speaking of next weekend, I have signed up for duty once more. Yep, next weekend I will be watching Dumb and Dumber once more. There have been additions to the house in the form of fish. So last night I went by to receive my directions. This was after a stop at Michael's to buy the various art supplies I would need this week in order to get ready for open house.

Have I mentioned how I wish it was Friday already? Well, I do. Even if it means a weekend filled with Dumb and Dumber. Because for the first time in weeks, the boy should be in town for the weekend. And I'll be getting paid for watching the critters.

I did it all in my head

I spent the day at a workshop and now I'm off to take a nap. Why didn't anyone remind me that it's not good to go out the night before a workshop? If I wasn't getting paid for attending, I would have stayed in bed. Anywho, for your entertainment...

You Passed 8th Grade Math

Congratulations, you got 10/10 correct!

Could You Pass 8th Grade Math?

Working on a change

Last week I wrote two different versions for the same post. I occasionally do that. At this point in time, a part of me still wants to post the more venomous version. But I'm a new person and don't want to go that route. And also last week I had to do some counseling for one of my students.

She was crushed when she learned that girls of whom she thought as friends proved to be otherwise. These other girls were spewing major amounts of venom. They are some of the accepted "mean girls" at my school. She couldn't understand why another person could be so hateful. I along with a couple of other adults at the school gave her the reasons.

The first reason is jealousy. I went for the not as obvious choice though. When someone is feeling really bad inside, the only way this person can make him/herself feel better is by making others feel just as bad as s/he does.

This is the lesson I learned from having a recovering alcoholic as a father. My father started drinking heavily shortly after the divorce. He could polish off a fifth of brandy watching Saturday afternoon sports. And then we'd head out for dinner -- because back then he didn't cook -- and he would drink at least one bottle of wine. And we'd weave across the road on the way home. His visitation was for every other weekend. My parents split for good by the time I was eight. By the time I was eleven, I was calling to ask him if he was intending to pick me up for the week. By age twelve, I stopped calling.

Sometime in these years my mother asked my father to talk to me about the whole divorce thing. We did. He told me how hurt he was that my mother would want to leave him and cried a lot. Years later I told my mother about this conversation. (I think I avoided it at the time because I knew that it would cause yet another fight between my parents. And I don't deal well with confrontations.) My mother was pissed off beyond belief. She said that her intent was that the conversation would be about my feelings. Instead it was all about him.

Speaking of the divorce, I should really question my dad about the day he came to pick up furniture from the house. Apparently he was majorly pissed off about the whole thing. I remember my mother sending me to my room to play. According to my mother, I chose to play near the doorway to my bedroom. Actually I do remember this part. My bedroom, at that time, was straight down the hall from my parents' bedroom. Once more according to my mother, my parents exchanged words and my father ended up pinning my mother to the floor, trying to strangle her. In the doorway to what had been their bedroom. Straight down the hallway from where I was playing. I have always trusted my mother on this because to this day I have absolutely no memory of the incident. But my mother assures me that as she looked down the hallway, she saw me staring, frozen in the doorway. And being the bitch that she can be, she was upset that I did not come to her aid. Thank you, therapy, for helping to be OK with the fact that I didn't help her because I was eight years old at the time. There was a lot of anger though. The lack of memory thing and all. Because if my mind has locked the memory away in a place that I can never reach, then perhaps it's best kept in that place. And after all these years, I have realized that I could confirm the information with someone else -- my "real dad" since he was the one who pulled my dad off of my mom. The next part I cannot have a memory of as I did not leave my room. My mother's response was to go to the kitchen and to pull a butcher's knife on my dad. Once more, my "real dad" intervened. (My "real parents" intervened a lot back in those days. Probably part of the reason why they took me in the summer after my freshman year of college when my mom threw me out. Oh, and my parents know that I call these folks -- their best friends -- my "real parents.") My next memory of that day, after going to my room, was of the police showing up after my dad had left. Hell. My memory starts at about age two and a half. I'm just missing about a year or so of at home from when my parents were in the process of breaking up.

I swore that this whole thing would not be me. It's the reason why I don't stay in relationships for too long. Because I have always been a daddy's girl. And daddy? He left. I know it was not by choice but still he left. And when he started chugging down the alcohol, he was truly gone. I was nearly thirty before I started seeing signs of the dad I remembered from age four. And during many of those painful years, I was ready to walk away from him. But everyone else kept telling me, "He's your father. He loves you." He just had a funny way of showing it. And it has probably colored every relationship -- or lack of relationship -- I have had since then. In college, when I was at the lowest point in my life, he was nowhere to be found. And yeah, he was sober then. He just hadn't completed the steps. Years ago I gave up on receiving an apology. When I was in my 20s, I would bring up my father's past behavior. He would ask, "Why can't you let go of the past?" Because it hurt. And an apology would be a nice start.

The thing I remember my father saying once he was sober -- and our relationship was on the mend -- was that he was so evil when he was drinking because he was hurting and wanted everyone else to feel the same way that he did. I shared this with my student this weekend. The other reason why people say hateful things about you is that they want you to feel bad too.

And so I had to start to question why I wanted to spew all that venom. I know that I have been going through a lot of stress at work. Will I have a job next year? I had my meeting yesterday but there was no mention of my status so I'm not really sure at this point. Next week I'll ask the question pointblank. Right now I'm just glad to have the meeting over with.

I do know that when one grows up in the midst of chaos, one tries to grab control wherever one can. And if this control means saying venomous things that one may regret later? Well, hell yeah. But the other thing that I learned in dealing with my dad over the years is that I don't have much faith in apologies. I figure that we all make choices. And these choices? If you've thought about them carefully, then you're not sorry for them.

And so I realized that writing and editing that post was enough for me. Because it many ways it was not me -- or at least the person who I hope that I am. And after a few deep breaths, I have given it all up to the Goddess. The really funny thing is that after writing this post, I no longer feel the need to post that other one.

Stress relief

It seems that I have been the queen of bad planning this week. First, I had planned to do laundry on Sunday. After returning home from Andronico's, I discovered that I was out of detergent. I didn't have the energy to return to the store so laundry was put off until Monday. On my way home Monday evening, I stopped at Andronico's for more detergent. (They seem to be the only place around that carries my favorite brand.) So I got the laundry going and had every intention of making a pot of chili. It seems that I forgot to check to see if I actually had any kidney beans around. Because there were none to be found in my kitchen. This meant another stop at the store last night. And since I was in Berkeley Bowl and the crack cheese costs less there than it does at Andronico's, of course I had to pick up another wedge of that. To go with the duck liver and truffle pate I had picked up at Andronico's on Monday when I went there for the laundry detergent.

So finally last night I was ready to start cooking. I had thought of blowing off the whole chili thing but then I reminded myself that I had mentioned it to a coworker. He's expecting me to bring some in today. So the chili had to happen.



And then there was that other treat that I had picked up at Andronico's on Sunday -- boneless whole trout. I think Berkeley Bowl is the only other store that carries it. I remember that this is the first thing that I cooked that made Natasha believe that the oven was her own personal television.



I almost didn't post this photo. I kept thinking that it didn't look all that attractive, in my opinion. But I decided to anyway. Because it tasted really great.

Oh, and it's poached in reisling and topped with sauteed carrots and leeks. Oh yeah. And fresh thyme and some bay leaves. And there's something about trout that just screams couscous to me. I was bummed to discover that I did not have any pine nuts around to throw in the couscous. Next time.

My apologies for making some of you hungry. I'll have to warn y'all though. There may be a lot more food happening in the upcoming weeks. Because cooking is one of the ways in which I relax.

For your Tuesday entertainment

This is the song that most of the girls in my class I have been singing over the last week. Well in actuality all I've been hearing is, "My lip gloss is poppin'," before I cut them off. Now I've finally heard the whole song.



This song made me think of L'Trimm's "Don't Come to My House" for some reason. Unfortunately, the only lyrics of theirs that seem to be available online are for the song "Cars That Go Boom." *sigh*

One more day closer in completing my own personal hell.

I'm feelin' like Dave Chappelle

I went to Sack of Tomatoes to do some work for my dad on Saturday. Part of the reason is that my bank account was looking rather empty and we're only halfway through the month. Now I may not be rich but I once more have disposable income. Enough to warrant a birthday party for myself next month as well as some shopping. (Don't you wish you were on the invite list? Admit it. You know you want to be on the list.)

After the work for my dad, I agreed to follow him south to American Canyon for my former aunt's graduation cookout. Things went south at that point. Like when I was trying to leave and various folks were trying to tell me that I was in no condition to drive. (I was just slightly beyond sober at that point but they had all decided that I was completely trashed.) And yeah, my behavior after the accusations may have made them think that they were right. But how is one to act when five or so people are grabbing at one? And of course, through all of this I had to hear folks say, "But they're only doing this because they care." Care? Where the hell were they the times I in my early 20s I attempted suicide? Hell. They acted like they didn't know me back then. I wanted to write them off back then but my mother wouldn't let me. Of course her reasons were totally selfish. She said that if I wrote them off, she would be blamed.

Sunday was relaxing once more. I had a long talk with my dad, mostly about the number one stress in my life at this time -- my job. As it stands right now, I am more than likely being laid off. I was supposed to have a meeting with the principal about my job status last Friday. No one showed up to cover my class at the appointed time. I then later saw that she had sent me an email earlier in the day questioning why I had missed our on Wednesday. Luckily I still have her note that stated that our meeting was supposed to be on Friday. The meeting has now been rescheduled for this Thursday. All of this makes me feel a little leery given Queenie's comments following her meeting. It seems that the powers that be have decided that they need to replace us with more experienced folks. But if they can't find these folks, it seems as if we might be welcome back. Huh? Kind of sounds like an insult to me.

So after talking to my dad on Sunday, I took some of my new-found wealth to Andronico's and bought a bunch of my favorite foods. I also watched a couple of chick flicks and took a couple of naps. I was feeling pretty good by Sunday afternoon.

Now the knots are back in my stomach though. At least there are only five more weeks to go.

Note: I realized that I forgot to respond to part of Fluffycat's response. At least one reader has received an invite to my birthday party. If you think that you can realistically show up in Berkeley on June 23rd, then I will be more than happy to send you an invite as well. Note that the key word is "realistically." And yes, I am the final judge on that.

I'm kind of disappointed

You Are 52% Impulsive

You're quite impulsive, but you never are reckless. You qualify as a very spontaneous person, but you still know how to honor your commitments. And while responsibility doesn't come easy to you, having fun does!

Are You Impulsive?

I thought I'd be more. I must work on that.

Family Update

I just realized that I haven't updated y'all on the latest in the family illnesses.

My stepmother had a scan a little over a week ago. The tumors appear to be shrinking. So now she has time to recover from all the radiation and chemo. The other night my dad was cooking pork chops for dinner. (My stepmother is a mighty fine cook as long as she sticks to Creole cuisine. Other stuff? It's best to eat at the house when my dad is cooking. After he retired from those folks I am forced to send money each month and opened his own consulting company, he suddenly discovered the joy of cooking. If my dad had a blog, it would be pure food porn. Either stuff he made or places he's dined.) Anywho, back to the story. So my stepmother said that while he was cooking, for the first time in a long time she did not feel like fleeing the room. Instead the smell of the food cooking made her hungry. She scheduled for some more scans in four and six weeks. If everything's still shrinking, then they're not going to do anything.

I finally asked my aunt pointblank about her scan from a couple of weeks ago. I knew that they had changed her chemo. Instead of going once every three weeks, she now goes once a week for three weeks and then has a week off. It seems that in her latest scan they discovered that the tumor was growing instead of shrinking. The doctors are hoping that the more aggressive chemo will lead to shrinking. If so, they will then operate around July or so. We were talking about how she still owes me dinner for my fortieth. At the time, we put it off because she was in the middle of chemo. We that treatment stopped, the new school year had started and I was busy beyond belief. By the time I had some free time in my schedule, the cancer was back. We also talked about how her sixtieth fell in the middle of all the cancer madness. For her fiftieth she threw this kick-ass party. Now she wants to throw a 30s/Speakeasy themed party. (Hmmm. I do believe that I toyed with that idea for my fortieth.) We talked about how cool it would be for the women to come as their favorite diva of the era -- Ella, Lena, Lady Day. We both love the clothing of that era. And of course the men would have to wear hats.

Loquita has been staying with my mom over the last couple of weeks. (Loquita would be the Mexican street dog she gave back.) Her friend was heading to his ranch and my mom has issues with Loquita mixing with the other dogs that have been allowed to roam free on the property. Have I ever mentioned to y'all that my mom can be a snob at times? So now every time I talk to my mom, I get to hear tales of how "the dog must go." (As much as I like to complain about my mom, I have been talking to her quite often. Near daily. Because I'm kind of stressed about the job situation. And my mom is one of the few people whom I actually trust when I'm stressed out.) This from the woman who mixes scrambled eggs with the kibble. Because Loquita won't eat it otherwise.

I have yet to call my cousin back. I've got to suck it up and do it tomorrow. The sooner she knows my answer, the better.

And now I am going to stop rambling. I left for work at 7:30 this morning and got in around 9:15 in the evening. The kids had a dance performance across the Bay. (I was within inches of Gavin at one point. Didn't anyone warn him how dangerous that could be? And then a couple of my girls said, "We had our picture taken with the mayor." Ummmm. Where was I?) And some of the parents couldn't come. So Queenie, another teacher and I took the kids to their performance after school and then drove them home. On the drive from the BART station, I got to hear repeated pleas of, "Ms. Empress, please stop at the store. I'm thirsty." This would be within a few blocks of the student's home. My reply? "It is almost 9 o'clock. Don't you have anything to drink at your house? And more importantly, isn't it almost your bed time?" If I had questions about my cousin's son, they were answered this evening in the walk from the Herbst Theater to the Civic Center BART station and then the ensuing ride on the train. I mean there were three adults and five children. I was tired. Mindless TV calls to me.

Instant motherhood

Last night I was talking to Emerald about Kate's wedding plans. The call was interrupted by two other calls -- the first was from my second cousin in South Carolina and the second, my grandmother in Virginia. As they are both from the same side of my family, I became convinced that both calls were on the same subject. They weren't. The second call was just to see how I was doing. The next call was much more in-depth.

It seems that my cousin's son does not qualify for kindergarten next year in North Carolina due to his birth date. He could start in California with no question. And my cousin trusts me beyond belief. Basically she is asking me to take custody of her child long enough to have him start school here. Once he has completed the amount of time in school required by North Carolina, we would transfer custody back to her.

Of course I told her that this arrangement would be OK with me. She is the closest thing I have to an actual sibling. (She along with three other women in my family fall into this category.) But now I keep questioning what I have done. A five year old? Have I lost my mind completely? Obviously. And now I have to stop giving crap to people who have kids.

Now I'll have to call her back because I did some research. She is under the impression that if he were to attend school elsewhere for a few months, they would have to accept him. They don't. After one year, he can enroll in North Carolina but they still have the right to re-enroll him in kindergarten.

Bad friend

Yep, that was the highlight of my weekend -- being a bad friend.

A coworker was throwing a party Saturday afternoon at a park in my neighborhood. I had every intention of going but then I awoke at 5 a.m. I know. How wrong is that to be wide awake at that hour on a Saturday? And to top it off I felt like I was coming down with a sinus infection. I spent the next several hours desperately trying to go back to sleep.

Now this alone does not necessarily make me a bad friend. What does is that I forgot in my congested state that I had told Grasshopper about the party. And my phone was on vibrate. She had called five times before I even thought to check the phone. I did call back immediately. But she was extremely pissed off by this point. Not that I was surprised.

So it was a beautiful weekend and I stayed in. I've been doing that a lot lately. Things also got thrown off this weekend because originally I was supposed to have been going out with Jade to celebrate her 40th. Thursday she called to say that her husband reminded her that they were supposed to be doing something else. Always seems to be the case. I really need to find new friends. Because Queenie is dating her ex once more. And I had cross words with the boy early last week. So I might just be on my own once more. And perfect timing since things are still up in the air about my employment status for next year. Just feeling a wee bit stressed.

I just knew it

You Are Destined to Rule the World

You have the makings of a very evil dictator... Which is both kind of cool and kind of scary! Will you rule the world? Maybe. Maybe not. But at least you know that you could.

Are You Destined For World Domination?

Some of my favorite things

Last night I had to make a stop at Bevmo. (It's time to start stocking up for my birthday celebration next month.) As I neared home, I noticed that the signal lights weren't working. That could mean only one thing -- power outage. This confused drivers to no end. It's really simple, folks. Lights out at an intersection? Treat it like a four-way stop. Instead I saw folks rolling through without dropping speed in the least. Funny thing is that the lights closest to me were working. This doesn't mean that I had power when I got home. I didn't. This is when I was thankful that I had done all that cooking earlier in the week. I grabbed an artichoke and some hummus and started munching away. By the time I finished the artichoke, there was power again. Not that it mattered though. The main course last night was salad.

This morning I had to rise early due to a promise I made yesterday. I received a jumbo box from Scholastic, including a "How to knit" kit. I had ordered it because I was curious to see what it contained. I ended up teaching a number of girls to cast on. The problem is that the kit contained only one set of needles. Then I remembered the magic box at home. My mother taught me how to knit when I was about 12 or so. Over the years, I have acquired her yarn stash as well as her needles. I found countless balls of acrylic yarn in the box as well as six or so complete sets of needles. I think there's going to be some knitting going on in the next few days. From the questions I received, it looks like it might end up being a bunch of scarves and purses. At least I won't have to supply needles for one girl. She has been working on a scarf at home and I told her that it would be OK if she brought it in today. I guess I should bring my project along as well.