Monday was not a good day. I awoke feeling physically rested but realized that mentally I did not want to go to work. I should have gone with that feeling.
In the first 30 minutes of school, one of the kids lost his mind. He had been out of his seat without permission so I told him to return to his seat. Along the way, he knocked over a chair and then started crying because he was so mad. One of the other kids called him a punk. Well, he decided to change course and started to make a beeline toward the other kid. I stepped into his path and repeatedly told him to return to his seat. He kept coming. Finally when he reached me, he grabbed hold of my forearms, which I had crossed in front of myself for protection, and shoved me. I sent him to the office and he was suspended.
On my drive home, I spoke to my aunt. She used to work in education and is always trying to tell me what I should be doing. When I related that story to her, she proceeded to tell me that I was wrong for sending the kid to the office and that I have to be careful about sending kids to the office. I told her that I felt that the incident was serious enough to warrant the kid being sent to the office. Well, she continued on her way and said that if I wanted to continue to send kids to the office that I was in danger of losing my job. I lost it then. I told her that if I could not send a kid to the office for an incident like this, then perhaps they should fire me. And it just kind of went from there.
Oh, and then after all of this fun, she stated that my father should go to this conference he had previously scheduled this weekend instead of taking my stepmother to her doctor's appointment on Friday because my stepbrother is planning on heading up this weekend anyway. And yes, this is the appointment during which they plan to tell my stepmother how she is responding to treatment and what will happen next. See what I mean? She's just a bitch.
Fortunately I talked to my mom after that. She reminded me that there are only really three sane people in my father's family -- my dad and two of his brothers. Along the way, my mom and I agreed that my aunt is a bitch. That's nothing new. I've always known that; I just temporarily forgot it.
Yesterday morning I went into work and asked the secretary to start working on getting a sub for me for next Monday. Yep. That's right. A mental health day. I so hope she comes through. I also made it a point to not speak to my aunt because who needs that. And the Belgian is thinking about coming for a visit so there is some good out there.
Wednesday, January 31
Monday was not a good day. I awoke feeling physically rested but realized that mentally I did not want to go to work. I should have gone with that feeling.
Monday, January 29
Friday night I stayed home because I knew that was the only way I would be able to get up on time on Saturday. And yes, I did make it up on time on Saturday to attend the workshop. It turned out OK even though I definitely was not in the mood to be there. When I first arrived, I found myself thinking at times, "Why do people keep speaking to me? I really don't feel like interacting."
I got home Saturday and promptly went to sleep. That's what I did most of the remainder of Saturday as well as Sunday. My aunt left a message to say that folks were heading out to dinner on Sunday. When I returned her call on Sunday, I was feeling a bit more rested but figured that I should decline. Good thing I did. Apparently I had several more hours of sleep in me. Sure I would have made it through dinner but would I have made it up to go to work today? I probably would have and I'd probably be extra cranky.
Sports Guy is still calling. My family is worried about it. Now the messages are along the lines of, "I just called to say that I'm thinking about you." I wish he would stop already.
On saner fronts, I got an email from the Belgian over the weekend. I had been meaning to write and then forget by the time I get home. Apparently he may be coming here on a vacation. Now that's something to look forward to. If he lived around here, I never would have gotten involved with Sports Guy.
Well, guess I'd better get ready for work. *sigh* Hopefully the day passes quickly.
Thursday, January 25
It's all about me right now. I got home from work last night and for once I did not feed the cats first thing. Instead I took out the can of food and set it on the counter while I took care of me. (As you can imagine, there was a great deal of howling.) First I put some chicken in the microwave to defrost because I was too out of it in the morning to think of putting it in the fridge. Heck! In the morning I could not even think about lunch, let alone dinner. I then poured myself a glass of wine. Then I fed the cats.
As I was typing this, the cats finished their meal and began a round of smackdown. I really must capture this on video one day. Of course, it's not nearly as much fun as it was a year ago when they liked to come flying at each other -- yes, it was really like flying -- from opposite sides of the room. They would actually meet midair. I miss those days. Now I have to content myself with television for evening entertainment.
I think this evening I will break down and do laundry. It's not that I don't have clean clothes; it's just that all my favorite things are dirty. Oh, the joys of owning over a month's worth of underwear. "What? It can't possibly be time to do laundry. I still have clean underwear." Of course, doing laundry requires energy (and time) that I haven't had lately. I really must do it because having my fave stuff clean always makes me feel better.
And I need to come up with things that help me to relax. Like maybe I should start working on my knitting projects some more. And after reading Neil's post, I think that maybe I should spend a nice afternoon at Home Depot. (My mom and I spent a lot of quality time there when I was growing up. In fact, my mom still drools over the power saws. We'd go there with nothing specific in mind and check out all the things we could do.) I could stroll down to the library, but then I'd have to pay off those fines I still owe. But that could work -- except for the fines -- because it's warmed up enough that I can justify a stop at the gelato place.
I have started listening to music again in the evenings. Headphones on so I don't have to hear the cats. Well, so I don't have to hear Boris. Natasha is huge on napping. Because I have been feeling the need to escape "middle America," I've been listening to a lot of old garage/house. Because that's the kind of chick I really am. And how can you be sad while listening to "Happiness" or "Pra Manha." I'll admit it that last night I did end up diving into the 80s as I usually do. And got a chance to reconnect to my love of Teena. And then somehow I slipped into Afrika Bambaataa, Marshall Crenshaw, Art of Noise, Bronski Beat (Isn't normal for a guy to sing Cole Porter in falsetto?), Kraftwerk, Oingo Boingo (How would I have survived senior year of high school and my mom pissing me off if I had not had "Who Do You Want to Be? And Danny Elfman still rocks in my opinion.), Shriekback, Suicidal Tendencies (I fell in love with "Institutionalized" the first time I saw "Repo Man."), Violent Femmes, The Talking Heads, Siouxsie, Ofra Haza (For fun, you should play Ofra back to back with Public Enemy. Oh, and the two best albums with which you may torture drunken souls requesting a ride home -- as I learned living in Virginia -- are Ofra's "50 Gates of Wisdom" and "The Best of Patsy Cline."), Peter Gabriel (In the 80s I thought that either he or Sting would be my future husband. On some days Bryan Ferry was thrown into the mix.), and then Ultravox. But of course no tour of the 80s would be complete without my theme song -- Ministry's "Everyday Is Halloween." From the 80s I somehow segued back into a Brazilian sound -- "Samba de Flora" by Airto Moreira, "Samba de Verao" by Marcos Valle, "Batuacada" by Towa Tei (from Deee-lite) along with Bebel Gilberto. How can you go wrong with Bebel? Also, maybe I should stop reading liner notes. Nah. I would have kept going but then I thought that I should get some sleep at some point. The good thing is that I managed to stay awake for the first time in weeks past 11 which meant that I was actually able to sleep through the night.
My friends in college mostly worked for the radio station and were art majors. They DJ'ed at underground clubs or they ran their own clubs. While briefly in law school, my friends worked bars or were musicians. Actually this group often overlapped. I went to frat parties because there was nothing else going on. Or perhaps because I needed a good laugh. This is why I pierced my nose last summer. Because that's what the person who still lives inside of me would do. I've also made a pledge with this person that as soon as I get tenure, we're going to get some ink. And it's going to be visible. Maybe I'll go even wilder and go even lighter on my hair. It's just hair and it will grow back. Or can be re-colored. Some days I hate having to conform and I think about doing something that won't require me to make compromises about my appearance. But then I like the stability of my paycheck.
One of my coworkers is trying to get a bunch of us to go out dancing tomorrow night. At first this sounded appealing but the more I thought about it, the worse the idea sounded. First of all, I have to attend a workshop on Saturday that starts at 9 a.m. Then there's the whole 80s theme. Now don't get me wrong. I loved the 80s. But I looked at the bands playlist. Reminded me of a frat party. As in the only Simple Minds on their list is "Don't You Forget About Me," a song that the band has said in interviews that they hated. I was more a "Sparkle in the Rain" and "New Gold Dream (81-82-83-84)" kind of girl. I think I've done enough of the "frat party" kind of scene in the last few months. I think this is part of what has left this empty feeling in my soul. Because frat parties? They lack soul. And I don't mean the music because your average frat party these days usually includes some soul music. No, I mean the vibe of the folks around you. As my friend, La Nicoya, would say, the vibe is definitely lacking in flavor. And before you jump all over me, I do have friends who are pigment-challenged with plenty of flavor. Case in point is Kate. Damn. Why did I have a flash in my mind of folks who say, "You know I have friends who are black/latino/Asian." But I still believe it is different if you are speaking from a position other than that of the dominant group.
So that got me thinking on Wednesday night. Because I remember a time when my life was filled with people of all ethnicities, religious backgrounds, socioeconomic backgrounds. Our common bond? The groove. I discovered that one of my old favorite haunts, the End Up, is having a special night the Sunday before President's Day. Now that is definitely my kind of scene. So my thought is that I will save up my energy so that I can go there. And maybe in between I'll head into North Beach one weekend so that I can go to the Royale. Omigosh! I was just catching up on the latest happenings at the place and discovered that on Wednesday nights that they have live hip-hop and on Sunday nights, it's hip-hop open mike. I have always been partial to this place since the first time I went there back in '01. That was the first night I wore the infamous skirt in public and was told that I looked like "a Catholic schoolgirl gone bad." My friends had flaked on me so while I was smoking at the curb, the guys seated at the table near the window told me that I was welcome to join them. After getting seated, they explained to me that the table was the owner's table and that he would be coming in soon. Maybe I had a strange look on my face because they then added that he wouldn't mind. He didn't. I think I left the place sometime between 3 and 4 that night. Yes, they close at 2. One of my friends who had flaked that night marveled at my ability to always get to know the folks in charge. Yeah, it gets crowded on weekends but from what I remember the music was always on. Back in 01-02, when I hung there hardcore, it was the kind of place where you knew you were hear stuff like Mos Def and The Roots. And if you haven't figured it out yet, I love to dance. So yeah. I'm going to pencil in a night at the Royale because it is sure to cure some, if not all, that ails me. If not, I'll hit some places in the Mission. And maybe I'll end up going to the 80s night after all. Because the place is across from the bar that used to be my home away from home. The place in which I am usually worshipped properly.
And so maybe Queenie is pissed off with me over Monday's post. Paraphrasing what I said on yesterday, "No regrets." And maybe now she has a better picture of my San Francisco. Because I know that our views of the City probably differ radically. Tomorrow I'll explain why -- because I have a feeling that Queenie has no clue as to our differing viewpoints. So think as a lesson for all.
And to eleviate some of my stress, I am thinking about "coming clean" with the kids. Because I realize that in some ways, they have might been the victims of my fluctuating moods. Not that they have not behaved in a way deserving of a pissed off mood. I just think that they may be, at times, be taking more then they fully deserve. (Of course, if you saw my kids, you would probably say that I am too easy on them.) Like I said, probably not. This thought does not stop my feeling of guilt though. Part of the reason why I have thought of taking "mental health" days. I have managed to reach kids who last year did not show any respect. I'd hate to damage all of the progress that I have made with my current emotional state. And yes, I actually shed a few tears as I wrote these last words. The first tears I have shed in the last two weeks. The scary thing is I know there are so many more left inside of me. I've just been holding them in for so long that I'm not sure that I can get them out at this point without a complete meltdown. And I know that I can't let things get to that point. Because I may have made it back from that point before but I just don't think I have the strength to come back from there anymore. It was kind of like a one-shot deal. Maybe I needed to acknowledge that because suddenly the floodgates have opened.
So today I will say no to a request that was made of me because even though it was put in a way that it would be a benefit for me, right now it really isn't. Right now it's about taking care of someone else's needs, not mine. Right now more than ever I need to really look at these kind of requests. And maybe I'll change my mind about the whole 80s night thing tomorrow night.
Wednesday, January 24
There is still great potential for crankiness on my part. I don't think that I've mentioned it but over the last couple of weeks, I have developed some different sleep patterns. Usually I get home from work and talk to a few relatives. Sometime after dinner, I find myself dozing off in front of the TV. Most nights I'm asleep before the primetime viewing starts. Fortunately my fave shows are on my DVR recording list. I then find myself awake at some later hour. If I'm fortunate, it's around 11 p.m. like last night. Usually it's sometime between 1 a.m. and 3 a.m. though. Mind you, my alarm goes off around 5 a.m. When I awake in the wee hours, I am usually wide awake because at that point I have slept at least six hours. So what do I end up doing? Watching those shows I've taped. By the time my alarm goes off, I feel dead tired again. Yes, I know the answer is to not watch TV. And yes, I realize what my new sleep patterns are probably indicative of.
The Thrive! group closest to me meets on Tuesday evenings. I thought about this as I was dozing off yesterday evening. Maybe I'll make it there next week. And Kapgar, no, I have not have had that day of crying. Seems like I've been having to go non-stop lately. My next possible free day is Sunday. I have to attend a workshop on Saturday. *sigh*
I mistakenly thought that I was rid of Sports Guy. Then he called last night. I listened to the beginning of his message. (As I have been saving the messages, I have been tempted to do a post of transcripts of them.) He said, "I'm not sure if you want me to call or not." Not sure? I said that I didn't want to talk to him anymore last Thursday. I have not answered any of his calls since then nor have I returned any calls. What's not to understand? Yes, Gloria. Boys are stupid. Throw rocks at them.
Queenie told me yesterday at work that we need to talk -- outside of work. My guess is it has something to do with Monday's post. Now remember folks. I usually write posts at least a day in advance so that I have time to think about whether I really want to post it. There are quite a few posts that still remain classified as drafts. I keep them so that I can re-read them. There is always a chance that I will post them someday. Once it's posted, I don't have any regrets. Usually the post contains not only things that I may have already articulated but things that I would gladly say aloud. The only difference is that in a post I have had the opportunity to think about my words rather than thinking off the cuff. In younger days, I was a huge fan of writing letters for precisely this reason. Or at the very least making a list of notes for reference during conversation. Because how many times have you walked away from a conversation and thought, "I really meant to say this as well. How could I have forgotten that point?"
So I'm willing to have a conversation. I just have more pressing things on my mind at this time and so it is not a priority for me. Like fighting the feeling of crawling into bed and pulling the comforter over my head and staying there for an entire day -- or two.
Monday, January 22
To say that I have been moody lately might be an understatement. It's probably less so on the days during which I actually feel rested. There haven't been too many of those days in the last week though.
My irritation started with Sports Guy. After our conversation on Thursday night, he has continued to call at least once a day. I have been letting the calls go to voicemail. I haven't listened to last night's message yet but on Saturday the focus of the message was, "I'm not sure what's the best thing for me to do." I screamed at the phone, as the message continued to play, "You could not call anymore, you fuckhead!" How many days of leaving messages will it take before he stops?
Friday night I headed across the Bay to attend a conference for the weekend. I was so tired that I really didn't feel like doing the drive. I wasn't even sure if I really wanted to be there at the time. No one else from my school was present. Queenie was supposed to attend but then she discovered that she had some conflicts after signing up to attend. I decided to make the best of it all and did my usual of chatting with folks so I wouldn't have to sit alone. Saturday I awoke feeling pretty rested. Good thing too because I had a day full of workshops to attend. And the workshops were wonderful. I have returned home with information that I am ready to use immediately in my classroom.
Queenie showed up at the end of the day of workshops. She had been attending other workshops elsewhere and seemed especially excited about one. Apparently the speaker at this workshop stated that it is important for teachers to encourage the students' dreams. The specific example was of becoming an athlete. Granted the speaker was saying that the teacher needs to show the students that the peripheral jobs connected to a job like being an athlete require education. But let's get real. How many kids are really going to hear that part of it all? I don't know. I guess I just have issues with a person of privilege telling a child of color that it's OK to dream about being a pro athlete. So this was probably the start of the irritation with Queenie. Well, that and the fact that when I started sharing about the workshops I had attended, she said, "I really don't want to hear about that right now." Huh? Well, you can fucking kiss my ass. Or at least that's what I was feeling at that moment.
And the irritation did not stop there. Queenie was ready for dinner. We ended up at The Elephant Bar because it seemed like the lesser of the evils, in my opinion, of the list she suggested. Yes, I occasionally eat fast food but the chain restaurants have never really appealed to me. Besides, I had started to enjoy myself at the conference and probably would have rather stuck with folks who had actually been attending the sessions along with me. And as I sat around thinking yesterday afternoon, I realized that this was indicative of so many things.
Following dinner Queenie insisted upon going into San Francisco to meet up with the boyfriend of one of our coworkers. Why? Because he was going to be out with a group of his coworkers and she wanted to meet these guys. I pointed out that I wasn't really dressed for an evening out in San Francisco nor did I bring anything that I felt was appropriate to wear. She basically pooh-poohed me. I was also pretty tired at this point. So I went along for the ride and tried to make the best of the situation. Once we arrived, I felt very uncomfortable and let her know. I told her that a great deal of my comfort level has a great deal to do with how I'm dressed, especially if I am walking into a situation in which no one else is like me. And yes, by that I mean not only being the only person of color in a place but also being ten to 15 years older than those present. I also said that there were places I could take her in which she would probably feel the same way.
My thoughts yesterday turned to why she liked certain places. Then I realized that it seems that a great number of her friends have been her friends since high school. Now there's nothing wrong with that alone; Jade has been my friend since we were in elementary school. It did seem to fit with my ideas of people who grow up in the Bay Area and don't leave to go to college. One of Jade's sisters is a year older than I. When she started college, I saw that she did not really expand her circle in any way. To me it was like she had stagnated. I did not want this to happen so I chose to go away to college, and specifically to a college at which I did not already know anyone. Jade's sister and Queenie seem to have other things in common -- like their narrow taste in food. I can only spend so much time around folks of this type before they start to irritate the hell out of me because of the limited sameness of everything. So obviously it's time for some space.
And hopefully this week will not be such a rollercoaster.
Friday, January 19
I know you have all been waiting to hear what's going on with my stepmother. Yesterday she had her various doctors' appointments. The first was with the neurologist. The largest of the tumors in her brain is the size of an egg. Two others are the size of quarters and the other two are smaller. The neurologist recommended radiation since surgery would cause permanent damage -- definitely to her memory and possibly to her motor skills. She started radiation immediately following the appointment. In the afternoon she met with her GP and her oncologist. The oncologist wants to add on chemo to the radiation treatment. None of the treatment plan is a surprise to me thanks to the internet. So now I'll take a deep breath. She's stage 4 and the cancer started in her lungs. I talked to my mom last night immediately after talking to my dad. Actually I had been on the phone with my mom when my dad called. As soon as I hung up from my dad's call, I called my mom back. My mom and I are concerned that my stepmother has a defeatist attitude. My mom and I would never suffer from this because we are fighters. There's a part of me that says I should cry but I rarely cry. So I have been sitting around trying to force myself to cry because I know that if I hold it in, it will come out at an inopportune moment. I also know that I need to start scheduling some "mental health" days for myself from work. (Other folks may call these "sick days." And yes, that is one of the joys of teaching -- the ability to schedule a sick day in advance.) I had a long and realistic talk with my aunt -- not the one with cancer -- about my stepmother. She finally said that she believed that my stepmother's condition is terminal. Now this is the aunt to whom I was talking when I had the meltdown. What a relief to say that part of my meltdown was holding in the opinion that my stepmother's condition could very well be terminal from the various people around me. It was like a huge weight being lifted.
Speaking of huge weights being lifted, I came home last night with the most energy I have had in some time. That means that when Sports Guy called, I let him have it. Well, in a calm, dignified way. He was babbling about something and I said, "I just wanted to let you know that this is the last phone call that I will be accepting from you. You realize that I was majorly pissed off with you over this weekend and the feeling has not diminished? As such, I just do not think it is in my best interest to continue contact with you." (And of course, the idiot has called twice since then. Some crap about giving me space. Yes, I need space -- permanently.) And like magic Kate, my college roomie, called. So of course I had to hang up. Because we needed to discuss her upcoming wedding. Apparently I will be wearing some shade of blue because her fiance is color blind. She is still trying to determine the exact shade. Crap! I just remembered that I need to timeline the whole wedding planning thing for her since the wedding will apparently be happening in May. Any of you folks in the SoCal area who have insight for anything wedding related (e.g. flowers, caterer, etc.), please drop me a line so I can pass on the info.
And it is official. I am now hated by a small number of my students. Yesterday I did not send them out for timeout. Instead I took down names. (When I am feeling exceptionally cruel, I start singing "Santa Claus Is Coming to Town" in my head.) The naughty kids were forced to spend morning recess in the classroom with me. I handed them reflection forms and told them that I would not tell them why I had made them stay in. Instead they needed to reflect and write down why. One kid wrote that he had done "nothing." I told him to erase his answers and to reflect some more on his behavior. They started yelling that I was mean and that my class wasn't fun. This would be the boys because somehow they had not figured out that it was better to do their time in silence like the girls had. Those boys ended up losing their next recess as well. By the afternoon, most of them were quite repentant. Those who weren't? Well, I promised them that we would repeat it all again today and every day until they got with the program.
Despite all the crap in my personal life, or maybe in spite of, I suddenly feel empowered. Ready to take the world by storm. Ready to turn the world on with my smile. OK. That was hokey, but you know what I mean.
Wednesday, January 17
So I am writing this post as I am listening to Sports Guy drone on about his life. I told him how I am feeling mentally and emotionally drained. So he started off on his tirade about himself. Because this is what he does best. No, I haven't seen him. No, I have not found the energy to tell him to stop calling. The last few days I have been letting his calls go to voicemail but I decided to take this one because I thought that I actually had the energy to tell him to not call anymore.
And today all I could think was, "How many days until mid-winter break?" (Mid-winter break would be the week of President's Day. Around here it is also known as Ski Week.) Then I found out that we have a "retreat" (an in-service day) next Friday. Do you know how excited I am? A workday with no kids?
Oh, and I had a slight meltdown on my aunt tonight. She called because she visited my classroom earlier this week. She had some ideas for how I could change my room around. That's when the meltdown hit. Because that was when I realized that I was emotionally and mentally fried. As I started trying to think about when I could do all of this in my busy schedule, I started to cry. I told my aunt that I feel exhausted. My aunt asked me to call her back when I'm not so fried. I'm thinking it may be time to start going to Thrive again.
And yes, I am still on the phone with Sports Guy. It's been a lot of "uh huh" on my side of the conversation because that's all that's required. He asked what I was typing. I told him emails. He seemed to think that I was working on a blog post. Don't know why he would think that.
Monday, January 15
Sports Guy decided to call me yet once more last night. He had the audacity to say that he had spent the previous day trying to think of ways that he could be supportive during this tough time for me. Huh? WTF???
Fortunately I was well-rested by the time I received this phone call. I told him for starters he might start by not calling when I am asleep. His response? "Did I do that?" Ummm, yeah. I reminded him of the three phone calls on Friday and that I had specifically said in the first conversation that I had been asleep and would be going back to sleep. I told him by the third phone call -- the one I let go to voicemail -- I was livid. He apologized and said that he could understand my feeling. I told him it was a shitty thing to do.
I then mentioned the two phone calls on Saturday that basically consisted of him repeatedly saying, "I don't like it when you're not around." I told him that I found these statements to be extremely selfish.
His next statement? "How can I make it up to you?" He suggested picking up some take-out and bringing it over or taking me out to dinner. I told him that I had plans for the evening -- a lie -- and that I had to get going. I did say "good bye" but I believe he may have still been speaking when I hung up the phone.
My aunts were questioning whether I wanted to give him another chance. My way of thinking has always been that people show their true colors at stressful times. I am very good at taking care of other people at these times. However, I cannot tolerate a person whom I barely know demanding that I take care of him as well. Sorry, but that little bit of energy I have left is for me.
So last night, I had a glass of red wine, curled up with the cats, watched some TV, and did a little knitting. Mentally I feel much better today. Now if I could only get rid of this cold that seems to be starting.
Saturday, January 13
Well, trust my dad to get things slightly wrong. As it turns out, the brain thing with my stepmother is not a tumor; it's lesions. Five of them to be exact. So we were a little relieved because we all thought, "Well, lesions can be caused by strokes." Then the doctors kind of burst our bubbles. As I stated earlier, there is also a spot on her lung. The doctors were going to do a biopsy on her lung yesterday but were unable to. Apparently they could not reach the spot due to the reconstruction surgery following her breast cancer. The doctors said that that was OK though because they would just do a liver biopsy instead. WTF???? Apparently there are also a couple of spots on her liver as well. The doctors think that all three are related. So now we just have to wait to hear the biopsy results.
On other fronts, I feel like bitchslapping Sports Guy. I'll probably just rip him a new one instead. I was at work until 5:30 last night. By the time I got home, I decided that I really was not in the mood to face holiday traffic north and would just get up early this morning. (I'll be heading out shortly after I post this.) Sports Guy called me around 7:20 last night. I had dozed off while watching TV; this whole week has been kind of draining. Now I don't usually sleep much but when I do, do not disturb me. I can be one evil wench if you do. So after telling him that I was still at home and that I had no intention of heading out, I then told him that I had been asleep and would like to return to sleep. 30 minutes later, just as I was slipping back into dreamland, my phone rang again. Seems he wanted to chitchat. I quickly got him off the phone and turned my phone to vibrate. An hour later, my phone was vibrating. (I had not gone back to sleep yet.) Yep. It was him again. I let it rollover to voicemail. I think to say that I was pissed off at that moment would be rather mild. Bottom line -- he may need to go, and soon.
Thursday, January 11
I am going to keep it brief this time.
The good news is that my aunt seems to be responding to the chemo. the bad news is that my stepmother was admitted to the hospital today. She has been having memory problems recently. They found on the MRI that she has a tumor in her brain. Oh, and there's some sort of spot on her lung. So they're running more tests.
I plan to go into work tomorrow and to let the principal know what's going on because I figure there's a chance that I might need to take some time off from work.
On a positive note, things seem to be going OK with Sports Guy. I'm waiting for him to show up. He came by last night and managed to forget his cellphone. Knowing him, he's waiting until 7, his usual calling time, to come by and to pick it up. He'd better do it tonight because tomorrow I head to Sack of Tomatoes after work.
Monday, January 8
I am still recovering from Queenie's birthday. We went out for a couple of cocktails on Thursday with another co-worker. Then I had to hurry off to get ready to meet Sports Guy for dinner. I could post photos of my food but I had the same thing I had back in August. Highly impressive is that when I arrived, on time, Sports Guy was already waiting for me. He's always quite punctual. My aunt says it has something to do with being a Virgo.
Friday it was off to continue celebrating Queenie's birthday. This time with a group of coworkers. And Sports Guy. And one of Queenie's guys. Oh, and the boyfriend of a coworker. There were many Persephone's Bees consumed. And then it was time to head to Nation's. Because we needed food. (Hmmm. I see a pattern. Somehow Persephone's Bees always seem to be followed by Nation's.)
I spent a good deal of Saturday sleeping. Because I actually had work I needed to finish on Sunday. And Sports Guy says that we will no longer be going out on school nights because it makes me too tired on the weekends. So instead he calls every night. When we end one conversation, he tells me what time he will call the next evening. He always calls within ten minutes of whatever time he has told me. I have never experienced anything like this in my life.
And now I am contemplating a nap before I continue on this week's cooking -- things that simmer. Last night was the pot of limas with ham. Tonight it's Beef Bourguignon. Later in the week will be potato leek soup.
Sunday, January 7
Friday, January 5
So apparently while I was out of town, I was tagged by Daniel. Here goes...
4 Jobs I’ve had
. Accounts receivable for a machine shop
. Bartender at an amusement park
. Project coordinator
4 movies I could watch over and over
. Just about anything with Clint Eastwood
. The Godfather
. Roman Holiday
4 places I’ve lived in
. San Diego
. San Francisco
. Virginia Beach
4 places I’ve vacationed
. Driving across the U.S.
4 websites I visit daily
4 of my favourite dishes
. Almost anything with cheese
. Almost anything with crab
. Potato leek soup (with cheddar cheese in it of course)
. Curry chicken salad from Andronico's
4 places I would rather be
. Curled up on the couch with a comforter and a pot of tea
. Anywhere warmer than here
4 people I am tagging
I'll be spending the rest of the weekend continuing to celebrate Queenie's birthday. Have fun y'all.
Oh, and for further entertainent, I have been hooked on this video since it first aired on SNL before Christmas. Immediately after the show I went online to look for it because I knew it was there. I just have one question. Why is the box shaking when they mention Kwanzaa? And I found the clip to be cool enough to pass onto my dad -- who I speak to daily. He is also the man who told the following joke in my presence -- "Why did Jill get off the elephant first? Answer: To help Jack off." I was 16 at the time. When I started laughing five minutes later, my dad took offense. Yep. Gotta love the Southerners.
Wednesday, January 3
So Saturday I took The Skirt out and met some guys. Well, one of them I had met on previous occasions, back during the wildness that was known as summer I believe. Apparently he has been carrying a torch since then. With Queenie's encouragement, we ended up exchanging phone numbers. And here's the shock. He called on Sunday morning. To see if I actually had plans for Sunday. Until that phone call, I had planned on heading over to the usual spot wearing the leather pants. Why? Because Drummer Boy's band was playing there that night and I was going to torment him with what he was missing. Suddenly I didn't really feel like going out. Actually I rarely do on NYE because let's face it. It's amateur night. So I told Sports Guy (because that's his name for now) that it would be OK if he stopped by with a bottle of wine.
We sat around watching the Law and Order marathon, drinking wine, and talking. I now know his life story. And now we hit the "problems." He's 48. Yes, I know I am 40 but I do have a tendency to date guys who are younger than I. Then again, maybe that's what the problem has been. In his favor, he doesn't seem like a stick in the mud. Probably comes from his childhood of moving around quite a bit due to his dad's involvement in sports. But the real problem? He's nice. And seems to worship the ground upon which I walk. In the past guys like that have not lasted. Sure there's that initial joy at being adored but then that drowning feeling starts to come back. And somehow it's even worse if the guy is nice. Yeah, I know. I'm warped.
So if I was the type to make resolutions and all, mine would be to not trash this relationship. And don't look at me, saying that it is entirely too early to use that word. He's the one who said that he doesn't believe in becoming involved with someone unless he feels that he can make a commitment. Ewww. That's another ugly word.
Oh, and more fuel for the fire. When I was talking to him last night -- because hello, he calls daily -- he mentioned that he had talked to his parents. And told his mom about me. Gotta love that unique relationship between Southern men and their mamas. I know this because until her death, my dad talked to his mom daily. Good news? She apparently thinks that I sound wonderful, especially since I'm a teacher and because she was one before she got married. Bad news? Yep. Feeling that drowning sensation starting already.
Well, wish me luck and of course I will keep you posted.
Monday, January 1
What is the perfect follow-up for embracing one's inner monologue? Embracing one's inner Holly.
By Thursday I was rested and itching to go. When Queenie called, I quickly jumped up and set about making myself presentable for public. We headed to my usual spot and I ended up taking one for the team. Per usual Queenie found a cute guy and I ended up talking to his obnoxious friend. Let me just say there was much spanking involved. In fact Queenie asked on Friday morning if my hand was sore.
Of course this being New Year's Day, I must contemplate my actions today carefully. Yep, time for that Southern superstition to raise its head once more. I vaguely remember mentioning last year the belief that whatever you do on New Year's will set the tone for the rest of your year. Last year I drove around SF and took photos of some of my fave spots. I ended the day at my old home away from home in North Beach. Now I argued that I was in there for the restroom and a drink. I believe I left several drinks later. Hmmm. That does sound like the rest of 2006. But then I ended up getting my dream job at the same time. Common denominator? I know how to charm folks when it's important to me. In the case of the bar, I had decided before entering how much I was willing to spend. Anything above that would mean that I needed to charm folks (men) into paying for the rest of my drinks.
So I thought about heading out on Friday but couldn't quite pull it together. I was determined to head out by Saturday. It's just as well I delayed a day. That one day gave me time to realize that I was feeling a little down. I mean it has been three months since I last had a date. (Oops. That was a mistake. I went out with Underwear Guy in November but that was just coffee. Doesn't really count.) Winter is notoriously a slow time for me as well. Oh yeah. And then there's that slight depression that hits every year during the holidays. By Saturday afternoon, I realized that I was going to have to pull out the big guns -- The Skirt.
Now The Skirt used to make an appearance at least once a month. Nowadays it's lucky if it sees the light of day once a year. The Skirt also requires a certain level of confidence in the wearer. It's not really an "I am woman. Hear me roar!" kind of feeling. It's more like "I am the dominatrix. Watch as I crush you under my heel." But that may be because I always wear The Skirt with The Boots. Oops. Was that too much info?
So I got all spiffed up and headed out. First thing was to order a drink. I'm usually a Cuba Libre kind of girl but The Skirt demanded a French martini instead. Then Queenie called to see if I was planning to head out. Everything flowed from there. Met a number of guys. One actually called on Sunday. He might just end up being around for a bit so I'll have to come up with a name for him. Maybe he shall be Sports Guy since that's all he watches on TV.
And now I need to start acting like a person who has to return to work tomorrow. *sigh*