I just returned home from a grueling ordeal. No, not school although the kids were trying my last nerve today. Last week was, "Oh, we are so glad that other teacher is gone." This week it became, "Our teacher last year didn't do things that way." I calmly stated that there was a new sheriff in town. When I told this to Grasshopper on Wednesday night while swilling down cocktails and swapping war stories (Did I ever mention that Grasshopper is a preschool teacher? Yep, we teachers know how to party.), she said that it reminded her of Blazing Saddles. Today the kids tried me so hard that a few times I had to bite my tongue to stop the expletives from escaping my mouth. You should have heard the gasps when I said, "I swear to God..."
Enough about the kids already. It's the weekend and I'm trying not to think about them even though I brought a ton of work home with me tonight per usual. School got out and it was all about me. This would be thanks to B of D (Bank of Dad). Yeah, that's right. I hit dad up for some money. I don't get my first real paycheck from the district until the end of the month and suddenly realized that I was low on food/partying funds. My mom likes to give me crap about this, saying that I'm too old to be calling daddy for funds. First of all, if they had hooked me up with a trust fund, all of this would be moot. Secondly, she divorced him over 30 years ago. Stop hating because you can't ride the gravy train anymore. Of course, the funds come with a price. I'll be driving to Sacto on Sunday to celebrate my stepmother's birthday. I guess I can't use the excuse of not having funds to fill my gas tank anymore.
OK. So that was about me but not in the way that I meant. Once I received the funds, I realized that I was in desperate need of a hair appointment. I mean I had roots. One cannot pass one's self off as being 20 something if one has white roots. I think there's some of that other color somewhere but the first thing you see is the white. Last weekend while at the coworker's family's picnic, one of her relatives said that she would have thought that I was younger if it hadn't been for my roots. I hate honest people. The debate became whether to re-braid with the OPH (other people's hair). I decided it was time to see my real hair.
Now removing braids can take just as long as it takes to put them in. (Mine took six to eight hours going in.) Therefore, I started the unbraiding process when I got home from work on Thursday night. Two buck Chuck rode shotgun. I would like to give thanks to Chuck because I think that Chuck is the reason that I did not end up with "tennis elbow" during this process like I usually do. I left in enough braids that I could pull my hair back into a ponytail and most folks would not know what I had done. Except for my eagle-eyed kids. They realized instantly what I had done and then proceeded to give me their recommendations of what I should do with my hair. Past experience has taught me that students are often shocked when I remove my braids. It seems that my own hair is much longer than what they had imagined.
After work, it was off to the shop. I figured it was going to be a three-hour ordeal once I removed the remaining braids. My appointment was for 6:30 but I went there straight from work to start working on the remaining braids. They were all removed arond 6:45. Then there was the surprise. It seems that my ends were in horrendous shape and my hair was really dry. By the time my stylist finished re-coloring and straightening (That would be pressing comb. I gave up chemical relaxers years ago. Thus my love of braiding.), it was 11. That's right. 11 at night. On a Friday. As the process dragged on, she was kind enough to run to the corner store. I gave her money and she purchased some Chardonnay for us. I must say that my own hair looks mighty cute. It's a shame I am too tired to go out now after the 30 minute drive home. There's always tomorrow though. And I love the color. It's a bit lighter than what I usually go for. In fact it's so much lighter that when I return to the shop in two weeks, my stylist is going to lighten up my eyebrows. I always thought that they were too dark for my face anyway.
Now I have to go and admire my hair -- the stuff that grows from my head, not some stuff that I bought -- and try to stop myself from thinking homicidal thoughts about the neighbors. Because in removing braids last night, I only had four hours of sleep. And the neighbors have decided to throw a party tonight. I have thought about throwing a Halloween party and Grasshopper says that I should be a good neighbor and invite them all. Screw the neighbors. Then again if it hadn't been for the hell of removing the braids, I probably wouldn't care that they were throwing a somewhat loud party because I would be out somewhere partying myself. I don't think I'll be going back to braids anytime soon.
Friday, September 8, 2006
Wednesday, September 6, 2006
Death and food
So it seems that I was tagged by Cookie Crumb last week but just got around to reading the post. Here goes.
5 Things to Eat Before You Die
1. Fish tacos from a roadside truck in Baja California.
I've tried them in restaurants up here but they're never quite the same. Once place served chunks of fish in their tacos. Ewwww. It should be a complete fillet. And then there's the need for shredded cabbage and whatever that white sauce is. Oh, and avocado too. Not guacamole but slices of avocado.
2. Pulled barbeque sandwich from Pierce's in Williamsburg.
The place is off of I-64 and reached popularity due to the recommendations of truckers. They cook the meat in a cathedral oven out back. Most barbeque places go heavy on the vinegar for their chopped barbeque. The other big difference is that you get the occasional crispy piece in the mix. Whenever I'm back visiting my grandmother, I drive the 30 minutes just to have a sandwich. Yes, I want cole slaw on it. And where's the bottle of Texas Pete?
3. Blue crabs boiled up with Chesapeake Bay seasoning.
No need for anything fancy here. Just a lot of newspapers (to dump the crabs onto) and lots of napkins. The thought of this reminds me of summertime in Maryland and Virginia. Marcia can tell you the best places in Baltimore to dine upon this great stuff. This is another item I often had at my grandmother's house.
4. Ice cream from Bombay Ice Creamery or gelato from Naia.
I love all the unusual flavors. And apparently Naia is having a flavor contest.
5. Japanese Fruit Cake.
My other grandmother used to make this for the holidays for one of my uncles. After her death, I asked family members if they remembered it. They did not. The next day as they were going through her papers, they found the recipe for it that she had clipped from a newspaper eons ago. I like to think that she guided them to that clipping. A year later the uncle for whom she used to make it also died. I have since found a number of variations on the internet. This one is probably the closest to what my grandmother made. I also now occasionally make it for my family during the holidays.
Now I guess I have to tag some folks. I think I'll go with Gloria, Daniel, Tami and Knitting Pagan. Somehow I think that all of you probably have some pretty strong opinions about food.
5 Things to Eat Before You Die
1. Fish tacos from a roadside truck in Baja California.
I've tried them in restaurants up here but they're never quite the same. Once place served chunks of fish in their tacos. Ewwww. It should be a complete fillet. And then there's the need for shredded cabbage and whatever that white sauce is. Oh, and avocado too. Not guacamole but slices of avocado.
2. Pulled barbeque sandwich from Pierce's in Williamsburg.
The place is off of I-64 and reached popularity due to the recommendations of truckers. They cook the meat in a cathedral oven out back. Most barbeque places go heavy on the vinegar for their chopped barbeque. The other big difference is that you get the occasional crispy piece in the mix. Whenever I'm back visiting my grandmother, I drive the 30 minutes just to have a sandwich. Yes, I want cole slaw on it. And where's the bottle of Texas Pete?
3. Blue crabs boiled up with Chesapeake Bay seasoning.
No need for anything fancy here. Just a lot of newspapers (to dump the crabs onto) and lots of napkins. The thought of this reminds me of summertime in Maryland and Virginia. Marcia can tell you the best places in Baltimore to dine upon this great stuff. This is another item I often had at my grandmother's house.
4. Ice cream from Bombay Ice Creamery or gelato from Naia.
I love all the unusual flavors. And apparently Naia is having a flavor contest.
5. Japanese Fruit Cake.
My other grandmother used to make this for the holidays for one of my uncles. After her death, I asked family members if they remembered it. They did not. The next day as they were going through her papers, they found the recipe for it that she had clipped from a newspaper eons ago. I like to think that she guided them to that clipping. A year later the uncle for whom she used to make it also died. I have since found a number of variations on the internet. This one is probably the closest to what my grandmother made. I also now occasionally make it for my family during the holidays.
Now I guess I have to tag some folks. I think I'll go with Gloria, Daniel, Tami and Knitting Pagan. Somehow I think that all of you probably have some pretty strong opinions about food.
Monday, September 4, 2006
Synchronicity or something close to it
I have survived the first week of school and the school year looks promising. Sure there are a couple of kids with some attitude but I think I'm starting to win them over. Once that happens, we can start to have fun -- projects, field trips.
Friday night I headed out with five teachers from my school and a teacher from another school who is friends with one of my co-workers. One of the fourth grade teachers went to the same undergrad that I did as it turns out -- at the same time. We then discovered that we lived within blocks of each other in the Mission back in the mid-90s and frequented the same places in San Francisco back then. We know that our paths have probably crossed numerous times in the past. Then everyone else started discussing their undergrads. As it turns out, the other new fifth grade teacher went to the same undergrad as her mentor teacher. When her mentor teacher was presenting her master's thesis at a seminar, the other teacher was present. I think it was about 9 before we parted ways. By that time we had come up with a long list of things to do on future nights. After reaching home, I fed the cats and headed to the usual place. No Grasshopper. That's OK though because I ended up meeting this really cool woman who recently broke up with her boyfriend. We talked about how it is possible to survive really tough times and come out better. Before she left, we exchanged phone numbers.
Saturday I headed out with the other fifth grade teacher to her annual family picnic. There are a number of teachers in her family so you can guess what the majority of the conversations were. Near the end of the evening, my friend mentioned to her relatives that I used to hang out in North Beach a lot. We quickly discovered that her relatives went to school with a lot of the bar owners, bartenders, and patrons with whom I used to hang out. Actually I wasn't really that surprised because there are a finite number of Catholic high schools in San Francisco. As I said to one of my co-worker's aunts, San Francisco is not really that big a city.
Today I am scoring some reading pre-assessments and marveling over how the universe has finally decided to bring us all together at this point in time. By the time we all parted ways on Friday night, we just knew that there would be something special about this school year.
Friday night I headed out with five teachers from my school and a teacher from another school who is friends with one of my co-workers. One of the fourth grade teachers went to the same undergrad that I did as it turns out -- at the same time. We then discovered that we lived within blocks of each other in the Mission back in the mid-90s and frequented the same places in San Francisco back then. We know that our paths have probably crossed numerous times in the past. Then everyone else started discussing their undergrads. As it turns out, the other new fifth grade teacher went to the same undergrad as her mentor teacher. When her mentor teacher was presenting her master's thesis at a seminar, the other teacher was present. I think it was about 9 before we parted ways. By that time we had come up with a long list of things to do on future nights. After reaching home, I fed the cats and headed to the usual place. No Grasshopper. That's OK though because I ended up meeting this really cool woman who recently broke up with her boyfriend. We talked about how it is possible to survive really tough times and come out better. Before she left, we exchanged phone numbers.
Saturday I headed out with the other fifth grade teacher to her annual family picnic. There are a number of teachers in her family so you can guess what the majority of the conversations were. Near the end of the evening, my friend mentioned to her relatives that I used to hang out in North Beach a lot. We quickly discovered that her relatives went to school with a lot of the bar owners, bartenders, and patrons with whom I used to hang out. Actually I wasn't really that surprised because there are a finite number of Catholic high schools in San Francisco. As I said to one of my co-worker's aunts, San Francisco is not really that big a city.
Today I am scoring some reading pre-assessments and marveling over how the universe has finally decided to bring us all together at this point in time. By the time we all parted ways on Friday night, we just knew that there would be something special about this school year.
Saturday, September 2, 2006
California Dreaming
Originally I was going to post this quiz because I was going to be in SoCal for the weekend, hanging out with Kate, my college roomie. Awww. What the heck! Have a great weekend. I know I'm going to try to. What am I saying? I'm already off to a good start.
| Orange County |
 You're rich, pretty, and living a charmed life. (Or you seriously wish you were.) From Disneyland to Laguna Beach, you're all about living the California dream life. Just make sure to marry rich - so you don't have to work for it! |
Friday, September 1, 2006
Free at last
Well, not quite but soon. When 3:09 hits today, I will be ready to run for the door. But I won't. Because I should meet with the other teacher for my grade level. And because happy hour at Kitty's does not start until 4. I have managed to convince at least two of the other teachers with whom I work that we should all head there after work. I hope to recruit more before the day is over. Because teachers? We party harder than almost anyone else. The only other folks that I have found who can hang with us are police officers and firefighters. Perhaps this is why Arnold has it out for all of us... Oops. I just got political, didn't I? Sorry.
So I have almost made it through the first week of school. Yesterday was the most memorable. About ten minutes into class, a kid raised his hand. When I asked him what he wanted, he told me he was about to be ill. I told him to run. He almost made it. About four feet short of the door, his stomach emptied onto the floor. It took the custodian about 30 minutes to show up to clean up the mess. What did I do during this time? I kept on teaching, of course. Once I had to leap over the puke. And believe me it was a true leap because I was wearing sandals.
I thought that would be the end of it all but near the end of the day I had another incident in my classroom -- ten minutes before school was out. I ended up sending a student to the office. I am tempted to go into details but I even though I write anonymously, I am afraid to go into details.
The good thing is that I was able to get enough done yesterday that I was able to sleep in this morning. No photocopying for me this morning.
So what are my plans for this long weekend? Originally I had planned to head south to hang out with Kate, my college roommate. Her fortieth is next week. Instead I will be sleeping in and getting organized. I have learned the hard way how crucial it is to get organized as early as possible in the school year. I may even find myself at work tomorrow since the school will be open then. So if you are one of those folks who thinks that teachers have a cush job, think again. Between the time I spend at school and the time I spend working on stuff at home, I usually work about ten to twelve hours a day on average. Funny thing is I only get paid for six hours. You do the math.
I am going to try to live up to my true nature this weekend as well. I'll be starting Friday night at Kitty's and will probably end up at the pub. As far as I know, Grasshopper will be available for her co-hosting duties. Awww. Crap. I just checked the music schedule. Like I even know the band. And since I'm surfing the crimson wave, I am sure that I will be bitchier than ever. *sigh*
Here's to hoping that I have a calm and peaceful weekend.
So I have almost made it through the first week of school. Yesterday was the most memorable. About ten minutes into class, a kid raised his hand. When I asked him what he wanted, he told me he was about to be ill. I told him to run. He almost made it. About four feet short of the door, his stomach emptied onto the floor. It took the custodian about 30 minutes to show up to clean up the mess. What did I do during this time? I kept on teaching, of course. Once I had to leap over the puke. And believe me it was a true leap because I was wearing sandals.
I thought that would be the end of it all but near the end of the day I had another incident in my classroom -- ten minutes before school was out. I ended up sending a student to the office. I am tempted to go into details but I even though I write anonymously, I am afraid to go into details.
The good thing is that I was able to get enough done yesterday that I was able to sleep in this morning. No photocopying for me this morning.
So what are my plans for this long weekend? Originally I had planned to head south to hang out with Kate, my college roommate. Her fortieth is next week. Instead I will be sleeping in and getting organized. I have learned the hard way how crucial it is to get organized as early as possible in the school year. I may even find myself at work tomorrow since the school will be open then. So if you are one of those folks who thinks that teachers have a cush job, think again. Between the time I spend at school and the time I spend working on stuff at home, I usually work about ten to twelve hours a day on average. Funny thing is I only get paid for six hours. You do the math.
I am going to try to live up to my true nature this weekend as well. I'll be starting Friday night at Kitty's and will probably end up at the pub. As far as I know, Grasshopper will be available for her co-hosting duties. Awww. Crap. I just checked the music schedule. Like I even know the band. And since I'm surfing the crimson wave, I am sure that I will be bitchier than ever. *sigh*
Here's to hoping that I have a calm and peaceful weekend.
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