Death fairy is officially dead

I bought my Halloween costume a few weeks ago..."death fairy." It's made by a company called "Fairylicious." Lame! The costume has this black, "pleather"ish top, velvety purple skirt, and black wings. I also purchased the matching death tiara, black eyelashes, and fishnets. It's kind of cheesy but I thought it'd be fun.

I tried the costume on... damn, online purchases!...The costume looks bad. Others might think it looks ok but there's no way I can walk around the city, or anyplace else, and feel comfy with myself. It's too late to return it and I think that's dumb anyway...it was on sale and I CAN wear it next year...if I lose weight.

This is the mantra that I often say. I don't get why food has such a hold on me. It's not even that I eat that badly. I just eat large portions. It's ritualistic. I go the cabinet, get some almonds or other seemingly healthy snack. I get a small portion and then close the bag/container lid. 1 minute later I go back to the kitchen, go into the cabinet, and do the same process again.

I got fake nails last month and have not bitten my nails since. Maybe I need one of those Hannibal Lector face masks to prevent myself from eating.

I get so mad with myself. I don't think I am that heavy but then I try on something that looks "gigantic," and it fits me snugly. Then I feel like garbage.

My excuse right now is classes. I am taking a grad class and FINALLY am completing the coursework. I am busy. I am not one of those people who thrives on busy-ness. I can have crazy, psychotically busy days for 2 or 3 days, but not routinely. I don't understand people who can live their lives, full time, like that. Things should be balanced. I think of Jack Nicholson in The Shining...when he types "All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy."

Had my fun this weekend...movies/dinner on Friday with John. Darjeeling Limited sucked. I fell asleep. It was so slow. Good use of color and awesome soundtrack though. Fuddruckers' hamburgers rock! Saturday was a comedy show in the city. Took the bus there all by myself and met Lisa there. Felt like it was a rite of passage because the idea of traveling to the city alone freaks me out.

Now is time for work...and stopping with the petty whining over some dumb Halloween costume.

I've taken out last year's pirate costume from my closet. Think I'll have some corpse-like makeup and be a dead pirate... someone's got to counterbalance all the girls out there who will be dressed up as slut bumblebees, nurses, Maria Antoinette, referees, beergirls, and who knows what else.

What a Day

I am so glad this day is done...or at least that the "work-related" part of the day is done. It's past 6:00 and I just got home from work. Not a big deal to most people, but I got to work at 7. Have observations of other teachers that I have to do for grad school...thus, I lose my preps and have to do stuff after school. Am also being observed myself by the principal next week...so that whole nervousness/anxiety scenario is starting up. When he observes me, his face looks stone-cold and completely bored. I try to block him out of my view and just pretend he isn't in the room. His comments are always the same... class-management related and "Why did you pick THIS lesson? Why did you choose THOSE vocabulary words?"Annoying.

Am going out with a friend tomorrow and we made preliminary plans. Had my cell phone off at work. Got home and she had left 2 messages...both with tones like, "Call me back NOW," and an email complete with capitals. It's not like I am going to ditch her. I generally stay committed to plans once I make them. People piss me off.

My 8th graders are bastards. Luckily, it's only one class that is really horrendous. On Monday, I am taking a colleague's suggestion and giving that class BRUTALLY boring seatwork. If anyone talks or objects, out they go. Tuesday, I can start off with "Things can be how they were yesterday or they could be different...blah blah blah."

And I've been reading my students' journals and they're all so obsessed with money and being rich. I know a lot of people dream of being rich...but these kids write as if they deserve it. I don't know ...money does not solve all problems... moreso, it creates them...

Today is just a day where I feel inclined to put a temporary bumper sticker on my car... PEOPLE SUCK.

Gyno Talk

John makes fun of me for going to Planned Parenthood. I guess the "gist" of it is that he thinks that at my age I should go to a real gynocologist of my own. I did try that a few years ago, in fact. The lady made feel comfortable and at her office I got the "luxury" of a robe-like piece of clothing instead of a HUGE paper towel/loincloth. Also, the office was painted nicely and felt overly cozy.

Then the doctor changed the insurance she accepted; mine was no longer accepted.

So back to Planned Parenthood.

I really have no "issue" with going there. And I feel comfortable asking questions because I know the doctors and nurses there have heard everything. They should really collaborate and write some amusing memoir; something with a title like Pap Talk.

Anyway, so I just got off the phone with Planned Parenthood...have to schedule my annual. It's so annoying and I hate it, but it's only once a year so I guess it's not too bad. And of course I hate it---who would like it?

But the receptionist made me laugh. After scheduling my appointment, she said, "Ok, we'll see you then. And nothing in your vagina for 24 hours."

Hilarious.

Angst and Autumn

Autumn's mad
She wants to come on through
but is stopped by relentless summer...

I scribbled that semi-teen-angsty "ditty" on a sheet of paper while driving to class on Thursday night. Torrential rain was falling---and of course, people were driving like idiots [mainly the SUV drivers]. Thursday felt like autumn had finally arrived. The temperatures were finally near normal and it was as if the rainstorm's intent was to wash away any remnants of summer.

Now it's Saturday night and it's actually cold outside. Now shall begin my adolescent behavior---refusing to wear a coat or jacket until it is neccessary; for instance, if snow is on the ground. I detest coats and jackets. They're so uncomfortable. Hoodies are my friends.

Hopefully, there will be an official frost soon. John and I went apple picking last Wednesday. We were so excited to go. I came home quickly, at 2:30ish... we drove over to Riamede Farm and there was hardly anyone there. We had the place to ourselves. Most of the apples we like weren't ready to be picked though. Plus, it felt like 90 degrees outside. The whole experience was very anti-climactic.

As soon as the first frost arrives, the Mutsu apples will be ready. These are our faves. They're GIANT apples... think along the lines of genetic mutations.

A website (Nature Hills) describes it as follows: The Mutsu Apple has a moderately sweet flavor with firm, juicy white flesh. Its skin color is a yellowish green with an orange blush. The Mutsu apple is also known as Crispin. This apple is vigorous, fairly early, and the fruit is large and oblong shaped. It is excellent for fresh eating, sauces, pies, and baking. This apple stores and keeps well.

Sounds amazing, right? The description also sounds partly pornographic. Hmm.

Ride the Wind

"Ride the Wind" is absolutely my favorite song by Poison. It's cheesy and attempts to discuss motorcycle riding in a "deep" context. Sample lyric: "Hearts of fire/ Streets of stone/
Modern warriors/ Saddle iron horses of chrome." You get my point.

Today Jaime and I trekked into NYC to go bikeriding in Central Park. Central Park amazes me because it is just so huge. Secondly, you feel like you're simultaneously "in" the city, but also "out" of the city, in some exotic world where urban life and nature mesh together. We rode bikes around and me, being the scaredycat I am, kept riding the brakes whenever we'd approach a steep hill. There was a wedding in progress at one of the junctures we crossed--some lady had on a navy blue and white striped blazer (nautical theme...with a gold anchor embroidered on one of the front pockets), LOOSE black leather pants, and navy blue shoes. Odd.

We saw some old people gathered on a bench, reading through the coupons and foodstore advertisements in the Sunday paper.

One performer was under the bridge. He was dressed in this pseudo-Native American outfit and played the violin while singing in a mournful voice.

There was a juggler too...and someone painted up as the Statue of Liberty.

It was such a beautiful day out and as I rode my bike around, I could feel the wind dance across my face. This is such a lame comparison but I kind of felt like the Pee Wee Herman character in Pee Wee's Big Adventure---just riding around on a bike, slowly riding along, with a stupid, gleeful expression on my face.... minus the future impending porn theatre/masturbation charges.

The only unpleasant aspect of today was at the end of our biketrip. We were putting the bikes into the car and while taking the front tire off, my thumbnail came off. Fake nails suck. Now I see why "girly girls" never seem to do sports, heavy manual labor, etc... all I did was pull a lever on the side of the tire and the nail popped off. It quickly danced across the NYC sidewalk, only to be rescued by me and tucked away in my wallet. Argh.

Back to my "roots"

I was only 6 years old when my Dad died, so I don't remember all too much about him. I remember that he had a bunch of colorful glass paperweights. I remember a thick-yarned knit cap he used to wear. I remember when he taught me how to draw fluffy clouds.

My mom has told me stories about how my dad used to go to garage sales all the time. When he passed away, she said the basement was FILLED with his stuff. She proceeded to pay someone money to haul all the stuff away. In retrospect, that kind of pisses me off---what could I have done back then? I didnt even understand what was happening.

I like to think that even though he wasn't around when I was growing up, that certain qualities of my dad have been passed down to me...like... my current fondness for glass paperweights... and my enjoyment of garage sales and fleamarkets.

I used to go to garage sales all the time in high school. I'd buy stupid stuff. Case in point: I remember buying a felt beet... I hung it on my bedroom wall. And I was obsessed with bright green and pink paisley/60s prints. The garage sale habit ended after college. This apartment is small enough as it is---no need to bring in more clutter---and the felt beet has long been gone.

Today, on a whim, I went to this rummage sale @ a local church. It SUCKED...random junk in boxes, unlabeled. I drove around for awhile and went to a few more garage sales. I love it because it's a sneak peek into someone's home and life. At this one house, there were a bunch of CDs like Offspring, Collective Soul, Green Day, etc. I guessed they had to belong to someone my age...I had most of those CDs in high school. At another house, I got to talking to the owner, this older and feisty lady, and she was telling me most of the stuff for sale at her house was stuff she got at other garage sales. The piles of STUFF on her lawn seemed endless.

I hate the garage sales where nothing has a price on it. Argh.

I'm home now and I was pretty conservative with my purchases... the buy of the day? Definitely these tacky, gold (spray painted?) eagle bookends :)

Also...I found this seashell-themed stationary set that I used to have when I was younger. I knew it was the same one b/c the company was Olympia. When I was 10 or 11, I used to go door-to-door selling stuff from Olympia sales club: wrapping paper, stationary, knickknacks, etc. You'd win prizes for selling a certain amount. It was like being Willie Loman, but the 10 year old version.

Being a kid now sucks... you're not "allowed" to sell door-to-door b/c of possible "bad people." Essentially, most of us are good people...or so I like to think.