My alcohol soaked world

I laid low this weekend. I thought I would do the same this week. Then I started chatting with Gloria. That's when I realized thst it was my duty to go out.



On my way out I noticed the usual shop window. I think the top on the right is so cute. Pair that with the wonder jeans and there is no stopping me.

I spent the rest of the evening shocking folks on my age. One chick, originally from L.A., asked me for my phone number because she thought I was that cool.

I decided to end this post with shots of my walk home. This is no different from any other night.






As my mother would say, "There but for the grace of God..."

Laying low

So it looks like the whole job thing is going to work out. The biggest challenge is that the union has been threatening a strike. Therefore, most of the folks in HR have been offsite trying to recruit emergency teachers in the event of a strike. This also means that they have been ignoring the paperwork that is already on their desks.

I spent yesterday watching daytime TV and napping with the kittens. I kept trying to move but they kept saying, "C'mon. What's another hour or two?"

Today? Well, I guess I should do some more cleaning around the apartment. It looks like one of my best friends may be coming into town next weekend for Gertrude's birthday party. It's usually a wild time when we're all together. I am also anxious to see her ring. (She just got engaged on Christmas.) We will, of course, also have to discuss the wedding plans in depth. I have learned over the years that it really doesn't matter if I get married as long as friends and family let me help them plan their weddings.

So I'm debating about whether I should head out tonight. I know, I know. Whenever I say this, I end up going out. This time might be different though. Then again I do now have all these clean clothes. Why I could even wear something other than the magical jeans. On the other hand, there is all this wonderful food in the fridge just begging to be consumed.

In limbo

You ever have those kind of days in which you feel like you don't know if you should be laughing or crying? Yesterday was one of those for me.

I was supposed to start my new job on Monday. Instead I have been dealing with the dreaded people in HR. On Monday they told me that they had indeed received my paperwork but it was still being processed. I mentioned the possibility that I would need to be re-fingerprinted. They confirmed this. I could not be fingerprinted until they reviewed my paperwork. I left with the assurance that someone would contact me within 24 hours.

I went back to HR today because I had not heard from anyone since that conversation on Monday. The guy I spoke to on Monday asked, "Didn't anyone contact you on Monday?" I calmly stated, "No. That's why I'm here today." He then pulled me aside and explained that I was not eligible for rehire in the district. I asked if that was the case, then why did they send my application to another principal. Why? Because they don't bother with pulling files when they receive applications.

I was not really surprised. My last year working for the district, I worked for this awful man. I have learned a great deal about him upon leaving. He laid me off with a probationary release. This is what supposedly makes me ineligible for hire in the district. Never mind that the year before I worked at the best middle school in the district and had glowing reviews. Never mind that in my first year I taught the daughter of the then school board president who told me that I was a wonderful addition to the profession after she observed my class one day. Never mind that the summer before taking this job, I finished my work on my credential at an elementary school with a highly respected principal. (She thinks I walk on water by the way. She also thinks I could use some fattening up.) No, all that matters is that the last jerk of a principal for whom I worked didn't like me.

What I have learned since leaving there is that he has a thing against black women. (He is black too by the way.) If a black woman at the school is not sleeping with him or one of his buddies, then she's out of there.

When I shared the news with my family earlier today, they thought that I was crushed. I was -- for about a couple of minutes. Then I became ... I don't know what I became. It just wasn't crushed. All I knew was that being crushed is what this awful man would expect. I refuse to give him that satisfaction.

My family has been surprised with my resilience under the circumstances. By the time I left HR and got in my car, I was working through all of my options in my mind. One of them involves doing something I swore I would never do -- going into my 401(k)/403(b). My dad asked about me going back to fulltime at the job I left for this one. (I am still there on a parttime basis.) The thing is that I have seen what is possible and that job wasn't it. I just need the luxury of a little more time.

I called the teacher I was supposed to replace and left a message on her cellphone. She called me back on my way to the tutoring center. It seems that the principal believes in me and is going to the next level of HR to fight the decision. There's still a chance. OK. So the chance is slim but there's still a chance. It also made me feel optimistic in knowing that there are people out there who are willing to fight for me.

In the meantime, I am going to continue to explore all of my options, take care of the household chores that I neglected because I worked so many hours at my last job, and to maybe finish up some of those craft projects I started long ago. Oh yeah. And I will continue to hang out with boys who think I'm wonderful. (I call them "boys" since most of the last guys who I have met are in the 24-30 age range. My fave was the poor little 25-year-old who thought that I was younger than he is.) Oh. And I guess I should continue planning my birthday party. It's in June and I will be 40.

(Sorry for the long post. Just felt that I should get some things off of my chest.)

Boys are irritating

So I am still living in that limbo of underemployment. Those lovely folks in HR acknowledged yesterday that they did have my paperwork but they have been terribly busy. When I left yesterday, I was given the assurance that I would hear from someone within 24 hours. I'm still waiting.

Now I say underemployment because I am actually still a part-time employee at my former job. They did have to pay out my accrued vacation (almost two weeks) when I changed my status so maybe I should just say I am on vacation.

Yesterday I went to Sack of Tomatoes to help out my dad at his office. I forgot to look through the wine stash but I will probably be heading back up there later this week. On the way home, I thought of stopping at T-Rex to pick up some dinner but then figured I might have to wait. It was 7 p.m. and I hadn't eaten all day long. That was not a good idea. Of course, maybe the next time Gloria makes it up this way, I can talk her into joining me there. I simply must check the place out one of these days.

Today I figured that I should be productive while waiting to hear from those HR people. First order of business was laundry. At least I didn't have to go to the bank to get a roll of quarters. (Thank you nice cashier at Petsmart last night.) That meant I could sleep in until the late hour of 8. There was a slight hitch. I remembered that I was low on detergent. That meant a trip to Andronico's. Now since this is a semi-vacation, I decided that I deserved the crack of cheese. Oh, and how could I resist the blood oranges? And then they had the nerve to have lamb rib chops on sale. I ended up with three bags of groceries -- one bag too many as I was walking. But I needed the exercise. After all, I have spent the last year and a half in an office sitting on my butt. (Yes, I could have driven the five blocks but I managed to acquire a primo parking space in front of my building. Makes me not want to go into work this afternoon. I guess I could take BART but that might lead to a whole other post. I'll have to think about it.)

So I finally make it home with the groceries and sore arms when I see one of my neighbors coming up from the basement. He had beat me to the one machine. (Yes, twelve apartments and only one friggin' machine.) I briefly thought of loading all the laundry into the car and heading to the laundromat. There was that whole primo parking thing again though. Also I am not a fan of laundromats. I took a peek to see how much stuff he had. By my calculations, I should have had enough time to do one load before heading to work. That was not the case though. By the time his second load should have been in the dryer, it was still in the washer. By my calculations the dryer had stopped at least 30 minutes before. Where was the slacker? If I had known which apartment he was in, I would have gone to inquire. So no laundry done. I had to content myself with cleaning litter boxes instead.

Oh, and since I still haven't heard from the folks in HR, maybe I should just head out again tonight. I mean I was good and stayed in yesterday.

What comes around

So I went to check out the boy in his place of work. He's an ok bartender. I still love my regular bartender so much more. I dunno. There's something about a man with a shaved head, a soul patch, way cool tattoos, and knowing his way around cocktails that is completely hot.

So tonight was soul night at the bar. I felt like I was at a family reunion. So much Chicago step going on. (Yes, I do have relatives from Chi-town.)

The entertainment started with the chickenhead who kept on trying to talk to the guys next to me at the bar. She claimed that the bartender was her ex. Hmmmm. Maybe this is some of the issues he mentioned.

As I talked further with the guys next to me, I discovered that one of the guys used to date my cousin. Yes, the cousin of the previous post. He was definitely infatuated. I know this because he could not seem to keep his hands off of me. I finally told him that I had been invited out by a guy who was not looking kindly on his pawing of me. This is right before he was escorted away. When he returned, he thne told me he only had one thing to say -- "Black power!" Oh, and that he was a man and not a boy. If he had been reading my blog, he would know of my predilection for boys. (Only boys of legal drinking age though. I do not want to become one of those teachers you hear about in the news.)

So Mr. Black Power will be calling me tomorrow to see if I am feeling him the same way that he is feeling me. What I wonder is if the next part is a test or not. While he was off chatting with the bar employee who was telling who I am, one of his buddies said, "I have written my phone number on the napkin under my drink. Call me." Now this guy was sporting a gold band on his left hand. I told his buddy that his friend desperately wanted to get home to the wife and kids. The friend told me that the guy had been thrown out of his home. I wonder why. After they left, I picked up the napkin. There indeed was a name and a phone number. I am debating because he was much cuter than his friend.

Of course, I want to know if he wrote the phone number down before or after I did the obligatory spin. The first guy swore that he had told my friends that I was hiding up under my coat. When I finally took the coat off, he asked me to do a spin. I had to do it because, I am sorry, for a skinny chick I know that I do have some junk in the trunk. Thank you Old Navy ultra lowrise jeans for showing this off to its best advantage.

So I hung around until the bar closed and the boy had finished cleaning. He had to run home because he has a therapy session at 7:30 tomorrow morning. Fascinating...

If you've gotten to know me by now, you've gotta know that I just can't stay away from the bad boys...