What I hate

I know that one of the guidelines for contentedness is to avoid complaining or making negative statements. Since I am aware of that tenet, I think it is acceptable for me to rant about things I detest. Also, I haven't blogged for awhile. It's significantly easier to get back into my  blogging routine if I just can post about things I loathe (for the first entry, at least):

1. Those home-made, overly cut muscle tees that guys wear at the gym--- generally, the guys who wear these are not in tip-top shape. You don't have to be perfect, but when you wear those muscle tees, there is an emphasis of focus on one area---it better look fucking good.

2. The whole black leggings, Ugg boots, and black North Face jackets look--- I know that this look has been in style for ages, but I think it is stupid. You're basically saying to the world, "I'm lazy, but I'm also wearing an outfit that has a MSRP of over $200.00. I also hate when brand names are visible.

3. Those inflatable lawn decorations for the holidays---I think they're tacky (and this is coming from someone who loves all things Lisa Frank). One of my neighbors has one that is a giant yellow rubber duckie with a Santa hat. That's fucking weird. It reminds me some of the set decorations from Batman Returns. Okay, now that I Googled that image, I've decided it is more than weird; it is incredibly creepy.


4. The length of football games-- The constant stopping of the clocks--I can't stand it. John says that if the refs did not constantly stop the clocks, then players would be dead. There have to be modifications to the game that could result in less time AND less possibilities of death.

5. Rachael Ray--I'm not the only one either. If you Google "I hate Rachael Ray," you'll definitely get many results. I hate the sound of her voice; she sounds like the stereotype people in other parts of the U.S. imagine when they think of East Coasters. I hate that she has made millions of dollars on the concept of cooking simply. I do that on an everyday basis. Toss some olive oil (not EVOO), chicken, veggies, and rice into a pan and, bam, you have a meal.

6. Holiday traffic--- NJ already has enough traffic as it is, but the situation is exacerbated during the holiday months. Even at 10pm, you can sit on a highway and see a stream of red taillights. I live here because of John and his family. If I was still single, I'd like to think that I'd be setting out for a less populous state.

That's about it for now. Honestly, there are definitely far more things that I like than things I detest. This post was a good way to get back into blogging though. 

Toilet phobia

So I googled "toilet phobia." I googled it because I, for many years of my life, actually did have a slight fear of using bathrooms. After googling, I was expecting a search result that would be a single word which would mean "fear of using bathrooms." I found out that the issue is far more complex.

http://www.outlooksw.co.uk/sites/default/files/images/resources/Toilet%20Phobia%20download.pdf

Apparently, fears associated with toilets involve the following: not being able to urinate etc., fear of being too far from the toilet (what does that even mean? women are literally sitting ON it and men have that lovely option too), fear of using public toilets, and fear that others may be watching/scrutinizing/listening. Toilet phobias can be related to social phobias, panic disorders, and OCD.

I guess my bathroom fear could connected to panic disorder. I didn't use meds or anything to surpass my fear; I simply turned off the light.

My bathroom fear could be pinpointed right around the time my father passed away. I was six years old and, as with most children, couldn't really understand the whole concept of death. My father was staying with my grandparents at the time in which he passed away. This made the whole concept even more foggy. He was at our house one day and then, another day, he was completed gone from the earth.

During the funeral ceremony, or at some point shortly after, I recall someone telling me, "Don't worry. Your daddy will always be watching over you, no matter what."

Those words needed to be realigned because, honestly, they screwed me up for about 10 years of my life.

Wait, my father is ALWAYS going to be watching me???!?

So began the two step process of using bathrooms.  Step one involved making sure that the shades were down (what if he was flying around like spirits are apt to do and flew past the window) and step two involved turning off the light switch. If he was always watching me, I figured I'd make it less obvious by turning off the light.

I realize that the above logic and procedure is completely screwed up. Kids, however, take words on a very literal level. I took those words, no matter how comforting they were supposed to be, and completely distorted them.

As an adult, I've gotten over turning off the lights in a bathroom. I still pull down the shade because having it up just seems incredibly weird. I also get a little nervous about the slight cracks between the stalls of public bathrooms. If I have a hooded sweatshirt, I'll take it off and hang it on the hook inside of the stall. I then will hope that the cotton will somehow magically drape itself over that crack.

Okay...so I guess I still have some issues to resolve.

"It ain't a hobby, it's a job"

John and I have always done things slowly. It took us eight years before we got married. It took him a long time to graduate college; then, it took him even longer to go back and get a degree in a true passion. Even simple tasks are done slowly, especially by me. I'll take one item out at a time and place it on the conveyor belt at a cash register. I'm sure this irks people. I don't care.

When John was getting his B.S. (love that abbreviation), he worked part-time at a liquor store. When people would ask what my husband did for a job, I'd respond with a vague "Oh, he is back at school, but he is working at a retail store." Inevitably, they'd ask what type of store. There's no way to class up the word "liquor store." So, there it was--- he works at a liquor store.

I used to envy his hours at the liquor store. All of these eccentric customers would come in---people who would make ideal characters in short stories or poems. This one Russian woman came in and would buy Jersey Cash 5, Mega Millions, and whatever other daily tickets were being sold. She would bring her son with her and John would yo-yo with him. Maynard would come in, wearing tattered Sanuks. He'd bring his guitar and jam in the middle of the store. Carmine was tall and brassy. She wore a lot of makeup and told me, on several occasions, "You're husband is a sweetheart. And I'm not blowing air up your ass."

And then there was Eddie. Eddie would sit for hours and play scratch off lotto. One day, I commented to him, "Geez, lotto is really a big hobby of yours." I said it cutely and innocently, but he responded sharply, "This ain't a hobby; it's a job."

I myself have been playing lotto for over a year. Like clockwork, I go to the corner store every Tuesday and Friday. I purchase one Jersey Cash 5 and one Mega Millions. The odds of winning Jersey Cash 5's jackpot are about 1 in 675,000---it's considered one of the "best odds." The odds of winning Mega Millions jackpot is 1 in 275 million, but, as the commercial goes You never know. 

I still work hard at my teaching job and haven't decided on the lotto being my job just yet. What I would do if I won is an interesting question to ponder.

John and I have a joke about winning. If we win at least $30,000 I can get a vanity license plate that pays tribute to the film Rockadoodle. This is a weird obsession that I have, despite never having seen the movie.

In reality, I'd be so ridiculously nerdy with the money though. I'd get new windows and siding on the house. I'd go on one of those all-inclusive cruises. We would try to start a family and not worry about daycare expenses. I'd buy a Prius.

Every time I check my lotto numbers, there's a quick pulsing of my heart. The most I have ever won is $10 and that occurred once. I've won $1 about five times over the past year. Still though, I keep playing. It's not a hobby; it's not a job; it's a wish. 

Inspirational Memes and Daily Emails

I used to get a daily email called something along the lines of "Happiness Quote of the Day." The quotations were lovely and supposedly inspirational, but after awhile I unsubscribed from the email list. Don't get me wrong--I love quotations, in general. Since I was thirteen years old, I've kept quotation journals filled with lovely sentiments, favorite lines from novels, and so forth. I just found that when I got the daily email, I'd read the quotation, nod my head in agreement, and then just kind of go on with my day. It didn't impact me too much. I also have this habit of hoarding emails, so those quotations would just stay in my inbox for ages.

Filling our lives with too many "inspirational" memes or posts can probably produce the opposite effect of motivating us. I see people all the time who post words of wisdom on Facebook, but then I never see them following through with those words of wisdom. If you're posting a quote about changing your life, then perhaps over the course of time that I've known you, there should be some kind of change in you (life habits, career, education, ...something).

I'm not against inspirational quotations, but instead of posting tons of daily memes, what about walking around with a scant amount of them perpetually in your mind?

I have a few quotations that I keep in my permanent memory. These have been with me for years---now that I am in my 30s, I can even say that these quotes have been with me for over a decade.

"Humor will act as a catalyst to purify the tragic"-- Aristotle
This one has been part of me since my last year of high school. I feel that it works well with my life b/c I've had so many screwed up things happen (although who hasn't?). Sometimes, I just have to poke humor at those occurrences. I feel like Augusten Burroughs would ascribe to the sentiment in the above quote too.

"In the midst of winter, I realized that within me there lay an invincible summer." -- Albert Camus
Camus' quotation reminds me of Aristotles---this idea of finding strength and aspiring to freedom when there is chaos and struggle around you.

"Carpe diem."
I try to follow this one, but sometimes I'm just lazy ;-)

"Procrastinators unite!!!!.... tomorrow"
(my mode of thinking when I do not seize the day).

Listed below are some favorite quotations from my "teen" quotation book. Ah, youth. Also...look at that handwriting...way neater than the crap penmanship kids have nowadays.

Add cWhy the hell I chose to save this quote and write it down, I have no idea. I live in NJ. We're known for malls more than anything else. The one nature hike I took in my life was a required one. My friend faked an asthma attack so that our nature hike could end early.

Clearly, this quotation makes sense if anyone sees my photos from high school...overweight...acne...and I wore dude clothes, boxer shorts and all....

Sweet.... a poem by Ralph Fletcher...I used to love cheesy poems like this...I still do. 

Sounds of Suburbs

When we moved into the house, I guess I had this vision of complete and utter peacefulness. Sounds would be contained within people's houses and I would no longer have to deal with the nuisances of apartment noise: hearing arguments, lovemaking, praying, and television viewing between thin walls. 

I was wrong.

There are pleasant sounds in the suburbs. Although it can be frustrating when trying to fall back asleep, I do enjoy the sounds of various birds chirping in the morning. The sound of trees' leaves rustling on a mild spring or fall day is also incredibly enjoyable. Even the distant sound of neighbors' conversations can be enjoyable. 

For the most part though, if anything, the "burbs" are filled with constant noise. Noises are like a domino effect. One neighbor will mow his lawn, the sound of loud motors buzzing back and forth as the lawn get mowed in perfect, symmetrical rows. Once one neighbor is finished with the lawn mowing, it is as if there is an instinctive call made to another neighbor: "Hey, you. There's silence right now. Stir it up." Then, the sounds continue to fill the air. 

Right now, on a Saturday morning, I can hear birds chirping. However, beyond that sound, I hear the noise of a saw (?) or some other large cutting device. I hear a dog barking. My neighbor behind us has an incessant cough, and right now I can hear that too. There's also another buzzing, like that of a weed wacker or piece of power washing equipment. I can also hear the noise of the refrigerator and of the washer going through the spin cycle. Those two noises are my "fault" though. 

Ultimately, I don't think it is a case of moving somewhere "quieter." It's instead a case of moving somewhere in which houses are further apart. NJ has the highest population density in the nation. Most of the houses in the state and built extremely close to one another and, thus, noise is all around. 

I need space.

Burning lips

During winter (which NJ is still enduring), I have a tendency to consume large amount of citrus. Grapefruits are my favorite, although I'm not opposed to oranges. When I peel oranges, I attempt to peel the entire piece of fruit in one peel. I revel in receiving more than 10 slices too. Some slices have those "mini slices" connected to them. With grapefruits, I peel the entire fruit and then carefully cut it into ten slices. Then, I use a knife to remove the outer pith, as well as the pith covering the individual slices.

In short, I've made an artform out of peeling citrus.

The over consumption of citrus often leads to my lips having pseudo-lip liner around them. I realize that temporarily putting a moratorium on citrus consumption will rid me of the crimson lips, but I don't care. I'm stubborn.

Right now my lips are ultra red. I look like I had "the works" done via Botox. In other words, I look like Goldie Hawn. There is also a crude term for what my lips now look like : DSL.

Army of Assholes

Well' I've been teaching for 12 years and it's only logical that, at some point, my former students would reach the age of late teens/early adulthood and I'd be seeing them in public places that I like to occupy.

I saw one of my former students at the DMV. One of my former students waited on me @ Applebee's. Another former student ending up working with John at a temp job. When he found out I still taught at the same school, he inquired if a certain teacher was still "hot." Once a hot teacher, always a hot teacher, right? Hot people age well.

I used to hate bumping into former students, but now if the person acknowledges me, I acknowledge him right back.

Recently, abundant amounts of former students have basically been taking over my gym. It makes sense. I live one town over from where I teach; this gym is situated midway between both towns. It's cheap and offer students additional discounts.

Of course, it is not the former scholars and do-gooders who are joining the gym in huge amounts. It's mostly students who, at age 13, were assholes. I wonder what an outcome chart would look like, in terms of predicting if middle school assholes will indeed continue on that same course for the rest of their life. I realize it is ignorant of me to assume that a 13 year old's personality will be the personality that is set in stone for the rest of his life, but when I think of my 13 year old self versus now, there are not huge amounts of differences. I'm more outgoing, but the core of me is still an introvert. I'm more confident, but the core of me is still insecure and anxious. I'm less of a pushover, but the core of me is still nice and sweet.

When I see past students, I avert my eyes and make it seem like I don't see them. The other day, one got onto the treadmill right next to me. His presence somehow made me work a little harder, kind of like I was thinking, There, you little fucker, watch me go. 

Sometimes I think that maybe they have not made the connection that it is "me" at the gym, but that's idiocy. I've basically looked the same all my life and I haven't aged all that much. I'm pretty easy to identify.

I've gotten over it. Whatever. It was my gym before it was theirs. I'm there alone though and they're marching in their little platoons----an army of assholes.

Chock full of yams

Yesterday, late afternoon into the entire evening, Storm "Janus" hit NJ and nearby regions. I am agreeable to the naming of hurricanes and tropical storms; the tradition, if one can call it that, goes back to the early 1950s. The naming of snowstorms is another situation though; I just don't feel that it's necessary to turn every meteorological event into some sensationalized news event.

We didn't get too much snow, maybe 4-6 inches. It was the light, powdery snow---easy to shovel. Today, a delayed opening for school turned into a full closing. I had visions of productivity in my mind for ways on how I would spend the day. I didn't have too many lofty goals: reading more in John Green's Paper Towns, going to the gym, and cleaning out my "old" work tote bag and moving everything into my new totebag (probably the task that would take the longest---the "old" tote bag is like a time machine---there's probably papers in there from when we bought the house in 2009).

My day turned into full-on slovenliness. I played Bookworm on the computer, watched Beautiful Girls  on Netflix, and ate yams. Yes, I said it; I ate yams. I've been on this yam kick recently--I've even been eating them raw.

Now, it's 7:30 at night and I basically wasted the day away. The wacky thing is that I feel incredibly exhausted right now. I'm basically tired from doing nothing. My eyes are glazed over from looking at the television, computer screen, and smartphone screens throughout the day's duration.

Even though I am in no mood to do it, I'm off to the gym in a few minutes. They weren't kidding about the cold spell either. I walked outside a few minutes ago and it was dreadfully cold. Maybe I am just getting older, but I don't recall winters being this miserable years ago. It's "biting cold weather" and the meteorologists say it will last for a week or so this time. In the blunt words which I relayed to my co-worker yesterday: I fucking hate snow.

Case of You

We had a workshop today on the topic of argumentative essays; these essays will be a part of next year's PARCC testing. During the workshop, we covered warrants, claims, evidence, and other terms of which I am not familiar. I sat there, boggled, wondering if I had the capacity to teach those skills to 6th graders.

After the workshop, there was only one word to describe how I felt---- downtrodden. Whereas I used to be able to do "fun" things in the classroom, mixed in with the normal formulaic essay instruction in prep for state tests, now I feel like the school district should just hire a robot in place of me. The robot would could be programmed with all of the necessary information to spew out of its monosyllabic mouth; it would not have emotional reactions to what it had to teach or tell children.

After the workshop, I drove home, ate a large amount of pretzels, drank half a beer, and took a nap. The sleep was anything but blissful. I actually probably did not actually fall completely asleep, but instead rested in the dark, hearing cars driving up my street and hearing the sounds of the neglected dog across the street.

A few minutes ago, I listened to Joni Mitchell's song, "Case of You." After the first few verses, I could feel my eyes well up with tears. That kind of crying is sometimes welcomed---it makes us feel human. That kind of crying reminds me of how wonderful simplicity is---good old fashioned emotions. Sometimes I feel like the world around me is filled with utter chaos. Who cares about big screen televisions, "On Demand" channels, or social media statuses?

I went to college because I thought that it was the "right" thing to do. You go to college, you work hard, and then you get a "good" job (however you want to define that). That's just what you do; I don't really know why.

It's 12 years later and I have a "good job," a house, and a mortgage--all the things of which the American dream consists. Sometimes I have a secret wish that the house burn down. I think back to when we lived in the apartment. We had extra income, although we didn't take advantage of it. We should have traveled to exotic places. The extra cash just sat in the bank account.

Meanwhile, my sister has, on a whim, lived in Florida. She then got tired of Florida and moved to St. Thomas. The sun brightly greets her on a daily basis. She works enough to have money to do fun things and that's how she lives her life. When we were younger, I think that people thought she would be a "loser" or a "lost soul." I feel that I, instead, am the lost, stuck soul. There has to be more to life than a tattered mattress in need of repair, cracked sidewalks, and windows that don't open. 

Winter Job Opportunities for Contractors

It's a well-known fact that contractors get significantly less business during the winter (in terms of home repair and construction). It's cold and the weather is unpredictable; people just want to stay inside and wait until spring to get home repairs completed. Then, the contractors are basically stumbling over jobs. In short, a contractor's winter lack lucrative opportunities.

It's also a well-known fact that gym memberships skyrocket after New Year's Day. A recent article pinpointed one gym company, Strait Fitness, which gets 15% of its total annual memberships via post-New Year's Day: http://www.marketplace.org/topics/business/new-years-resolutions-boost-gym-memberships

A common resolution is to "lose those last ten pounds." It's a resolution that is much easier said than done. Furthermore, if someone has gained weight over the holidays, the weight loss goal should really be 10+ whatever was gained.

In addition to joining gyms, January is the time of the year where you have to hear all about pitas, flat breads, "low carbing" it, Greek yogurt, and other seemingly miraculous wonder-foods. A lot of it is processed shit anyway. I say that the way to eat is to be able to state the ingredients, point blank, of your meals. For instance, I had yams, green beans, chicken, carrots, and olive oil for dinner. Easy enough to say. I also had enriched flour, water, malt, canola oil, salt, yeast, and soda...otherwise known as pretzels.

According to another article, about 33% of all resolutions are broken by the end of January and 80% are broken overall. Okay, that was not really from an article, but rather it was from wikianswers. Anyway, we all know that resolutions rarely turn into permanent habits.

My great idea is for contractors, during winter months, to open gyms targeted at the people who make gym membership their New Year's resolution. The contractors could make loads of money for three months. By the end of March, membership would have dwindled, but it would not matter since the end of March is likely the beginning of "contractor season." The Resolutions Fitness Centers would be a winter job gig for the contractors. 

This idea came to my mind because the gym was so crazily packed today. I had to deal with limited access to treadmills; meanwhile, some girl was walking at a 2.0 mph pace. 2.0?!?!?! I don't care if you're a contestant on Biggest Loser; you can do better than a 2.0mph pace--that's a 30 minute mile! You might as well cut down on the snacking and just sit on your ass at home instead.

Resolution Fitness Center....I think it could work.