Plethoria

Things I hate about Facebook

2012-02-12T11:15:00.000-05:00

1) When someone posts photos of recipes that he/she has made; it's even exceptionally more annoying if the person who has posted the recipe is very ...corpulent...shall we say--- like...are you looking to be ridiculed?

2) (stated on previous post) When people post about the woes of doing schoolwork...if you're a single mom working full-time and going back to night school, then you have room to whine...if you're not that description, shut up.

3) When a "current event" occurs and everyone starts posting about it...these "current events" are never life-altering events of actual significance...cases in point: Superbowl, Whitney Houston's death, etc.

4) The foursquare app--WHY would you actually want everyone to know where you are?

5) When people who are teachers write posts that feature idiotic grammar errors. Think than vs. then, breath vs. breathe, and so on... It's so aggravating. People already do not respect the profession and those grammar idiots are just cementing that disrespect.

6) Recent updates about progress on Farmville, Cityville, Words with Friends, etc. Yes, I have played Farmville for over two years. Yes, it takes me a pathetic six or so weeks to "level up." I don't post about it. The earth doesn't need to know.

7)When people post pictures of newly born babies and others comment, "Oh! So beautiful," "Precious!," or other uncreative, complimentary things...

So yes. I am a curmudgeon:) At least I get a fun word for my grumpiness.

Hopeless Romantic

2012-02-11T11:07:00.000-05:00

Despite my cynicalness and doubt, I am definitely a hopeless romantic. There are two previous romantic things that I recall John doing: 1] surprising me for Christmas with a Clay Matthews jersey--I totally was not expecting it at all and, to me, successful surprises are a huge part of romance and 2] when John left beef tongue for me on the kitchen counter. He had gone to work and beef tongue was on his new recent food ventures. He left beef tongue taco prep directions on the counter, the directions outlined in "idiot format"---which is precisely what I need for any cooking endeavor.

They're definitely not conventional examples, but they're examples.

I just spent 90 minutes watching Teen Witch on ABC Family channel. The fact that I can withstand the cheesiness of this 1989 movie and still revel in the CHEESY romantic scenes is something that I love. I love the end of the movie, where Louise discards her magic-inducing necklace and how Brad falls for her... without having magic involved. I love the stupid scene where they're in the abandoned house, tip toeing around amidst creaks of old wooden floorboards, followed by the camera zooming in on a slow, long kiss.

In between the movie were commercials for The Notebook. I hate all the "old people" scenes of that movie, but love any other scene between Ryan Gosling & Rachel McAdams. I don't desire to like this movie, but I just do.

Hopeless romantics can't be tarnished by anything, not even urbandictionary.com. Urbandictionary.com always manages to find a way to fuck up the most innocent of words. "Hopeless romantic" on the site remains innocent, sweet, and simple: someone who is in love with love. <3

Recent poem

2012-02-05T13:38:00.000-05:00

I know that "successful blogs" have some kind of theme: musings on daily life, video clips, top-whatever lists, and so on. I did start writing a blog entry in how I revel at the fact that some people I graduated high school with are now fat. The entry did not go too far. What am I?- a lead character in Mean Girls?

So, instead, here is a recent poem. I've been trying to write more often. Whenever people ask me why I stopped, my reply is, "Students suck the creativity out of me." Well, screw them... I'm making it come back.

(Not yet titled)

The rain slackens
but its sound
echoes into the air.
Stray droplets reach my windowpane
and continue intermittent songs.

I am reminded of younger years,
long expanse of time,
and your hands trailing paths down my body.
Small, meager lamp on the bedstand,
Nothing but the gentle brush of colliding lips.
Breaths being passed between us
like carefully constructed words in a conversation.

I think of us now
and the sounds that surround us.
Cars battering the pavement, rushing to reach home.
Dim streetlamps on the verge of disrepair.
Rickety white fence posts shuddering in the wind.

I long for your breath on my body.

"Mirror," Sylia Plath

2012-02-01T18:39:00.001-05:00

A new, mysterious gem that I discovered today...

"Mirror," Sylvia Plath

I am silver and exact. I have no preconceptions.
What ever you see I swallow immediately
Just as it is, unmisted by love or dislike.
I am not cruel, only truthful---
The eye of a little god, four-cornered.
Most of the time I meditate on the opposite wall.
It is pink, with speckles. I have looked at it so long
I think it is a part of my heart. But it flickers.
Faces and darkness separate us over and over.
Now I am a lake. A woman bends over me,
Searching my reaches for what she really is.
Then she turns to those liars, the candles or the moon.
I see her back, and reflect it faithfully.
She rewards me with tears and an agitation of hands.
I am important to her. She comes and goes.
Each morning it is her face that replaces the darkness.
In me she has drowned a young girl, and in me an old woman
Rises toward her day after day, like a terrible fish.

http://quietube2.com/v.php/http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6nZht4WMoMo

Moves Like Jagger

2012-01-31T18:47:00.000-05:00

Despite being released last June, "Moves Like Jagger" is still constantly on the radio. This song is my WAKE UP anthem. On Friday nights when I have contemplated going to sleep early instead of going out, I've played "Moves Like Jagger" while jumping on a mini trampoline. That definitely does the trick for waking a person up. It also, um, makes me feel sexy.

On the way to work, if it comes on the radio (which it often does), I have a routine: I unroll the window (yes, manually, and yes, even if it is 20 degrees out), frantically flap my arms around ("car dancing"), and sing uproariously. My favorite lines are " Don't need to try to control you/ Look into my eyes and I'll own you." This song energizes me and somehow makes me happy to be on the road, even if it is 7:25 in the morning.

After 4 minutes of utter loud bliss, I am most likely close to work; I only live 4 miles away. As the song's chorus fades into a background and the song ends, I reverse the morning bliss. I roll my window up, re-compose myself, and calmly drive down the main road that leads to work. I turn up the main driveway, pull into my parking spot, and get out of the car.

Sometimes I wish my work day was like a musical, with clever songs and choreographed dances to help me get through the motions of monotony.

Neighbors

2012-01-29T11:41:00.000-05:00

When we moved into the house, I assumed that living in a "neighborhood" would equate with a sense of community. In our apartment, we knew our neighbors, but it was on sheer acquaintance terms. I knew our one set of neighbors were Muslim, based on the echoes of prayers that I would hear at various times of the day. Another set of downstairs neighbors would have very short sex-capades; I could hear labored breaths on weekend nights; the labored breaths would last about 20 seconds. Poor girl. Our other neighbors were the #10 couple; the wife was ridiculously thin (had a drinking problem, mixed with the tendency to overexercise) and the husband was very corpulent (he was short, fat, and yelled constantly at his wife).

We moved into our quaint house in the "lake community" and I assumed that with the new residence would come the kind of community that you see on TV and hear about in novels.

FALSE.

Tom is our next door neighbor. He spends lots of time manicuring his lawn and backyard, but never has company over. Bobbi (short for Roberta) and Neil are our next-door neighbors on the other side of our house. She definitely is the commandeering force in the relationship. Neil drives a modest Subaru. Bobbi owns a grey BMW that is frequently covered with a canvas tarp. They also own another luxury car in their garage. They dug up their entire backyard to "re-lawn" it and now the beautiful yard is only used for their purebred poodle to shit upon. The neighbor across the street, Edith, was an elderly woman who would sometimes sit outside with her nurse-on-duty. Apparently, Edith died a few months ago--I didn't know until a few days ago.

I just feel like everyone is in their own house, watching their plasma TVs, using their luxury kitchen appliances, and paying no mind to the world outside their house.

I am definitely a private person and am not the type to just totally have our house open to anyone at anytime...but I do like the concept of a community...which is non-existent here.

We pay $540 in annual fees for the "lake community property owners association;" writing out that check pisses me off beyond explanation.

The neighbors I most detest are across the street... Russ and Michelle...she's a teacher; he's some businessman. They have two children (a boy and a girl) and a shiny, new mini-van. My negative view of them would best be saved until later...

Winter Doldrums

2012-01-28T17:50:00.001-05:00

The sun is setting; there's a tinge of orange across the sky, but most of the light has descended. The sky remains a blank shade of blue, a bit more optimistic than its recent consecutive shades of grey. At the height of the day, the temperature was a mild 48 degrees. 48 degrees is a rarity from the normal temperatures around here. Driving on route 80 today, I momentarily got the feeling of sunlight coming through the driver's side window and warming my face.

For the most part, winter on the East Coast sucks. I find myself coming home from work, getting underneath blankets, reading (and never anything uplifting--right now, it's Andre Dubus III's Townie and he is describing how he has almost just killed someone in an altercation), and just waiting for the coldness to end. I'm not a winter sports enthusiast so the idea of being outside "against the elements" does nothing for me. Today, the most momentous thing I did was watch an an episode of Alaska: Ice Cold Killers. Apparently, even Alaska has horrible, crime-ridden areas (they specifically cited 4th Street in Anchorage).

Lying in bed, amidst the background sound of the television, I heard the faint sound of police sirens and the sound of an airplane flying, overhead, in the distance. I'd settle for hearing that wintery crackling sound, snow dusting the ground and pure silence in the air.

Little Girl Lost

2012-01-27T17:32:00.001-05:00

Maybe I am entering crazy terrain, although I prefer to refer to my current state of mind as inquisitive.

Last night, I went online and was searching for some record of my father's death. He died in 1986, I know that much. My last memories of him include: sitting in the passenger seat of his dark green truck and counting mile markers on the parkway; drawing fluffy, pliant clouds; and looking at his paperweights collection.

Since it was a Jewish funeral, I didn't see his body. The last I recall is going to the cemetery and seeing relatives uplift small piles of dirt, putting them into the ground.

Awhile ago, I found a site that listed someone with my father's name as a professional boxer from Brooklyn. Though I know he did not grow up in Brooklyn, the past few weeks have been spent with the assumption that my father boxed professionally and that, hey, maybe I could take up kickboxing at the gym and continue the legacy. After further research, the Brooklyn boxer's birth date does not match up to my father's.

There's someone in Florida with the same first and last name who was a victim in the Bernie Madoff investment scandal. Relatives on my father's side live in Florida, but, alas, the person could not be my father (large age difference).

I know he is dead, is gone, has passed away...whatever other euphemism one wants to use. I just feel angry that I have no connection to my father. I have thick, wavy, brown hair---just like him. I have an affinity for glass paperweights, which I have never really given much previous thought to before. That's about it.

When I was six and my father died, I am sure that I felt lost--not understanding the gravity of the situation. At 31, I don't know if I feel any more grounded.

American Traditions

2012-01-26T18:19:00.005-05:00

Just saw an acquaintance's Facebook photos of a bridal shower. The bride-to-be was dressed in a short, white sundress; she was surrounded by her bridesmaids, all clad in purple. Obviously, the shower had been carefully planned. Ridiculous.

My own bridal shower was intended to be a surprise, but was ruined because of men. John came home from the gym and said, "Steve said that this is a gift from Maria," and urged me to immediately open it. I opened the gift and the card was post-dated for a Saturday in September. The jig was up as I asked, "Um, is there a shower planned for me for September 6?"

I still ended up being surprised though, in terms of the bridal shower location. Additionally, since it would hurt family members' feelings to know that I had discovered the shower date, I dressed like myself: hoodie, tshirt, worn jeans, and Birks. It was awesome:)

When I think of how us Americans do things, it aggravates me. We try to orchestrate events so that perfection and originality are simultaneously achieved. Everyone always has to have something "unique" at their wedding; something needs to be done in a "new way." People have been participating in marriage ceremonies for hundreds of years; newness has dissipated. At this point, newness would be unabated traditionalism.

While looking at the overly posed shower pictures on Facebook, I immediately thought of the Gogel Bordello song, "American Wedding." (I used to use that song to encourage me to run swiftly at the gym; now that I leisurely walk at the gym, the song can have other uses).

Some of the song's lines include:" I understand the cultures / Of a different kind / But here word celebration / Just doesn't come to mind."

Careful orchestration of supposed bliss is not a celebration. And going to a party and wearing matching dresses? That fucking sucks:)

I think my sister put it best when, over the summer, we got into an argument about gift wrapping. I was wrapping two matching gifts in preparation for a bridal shower that I was attending. Amy, intoxicated, was assisting me but was just making more of a mess than anything. Annoyed, I said, "Come on, take your time. It should look nice. The bride opens the gifts in front of everyone," to which my sister replied, "You're so fucking Jersey."

Adolph vs. Jesus

2012-01-23T17:22:00.001-05:00

I suppose if I had to classify myself, i'd say I am an agnostic. I don't know exactly what I believe in, but I know I believe in some higher power. Mainly, I don't believe in something precise because I am lazy---probably the reasoning for about half of the people who prescribe to no specific religion.

When I was younger, we went to a local Methodist Church. In my mind, I recall small images related to the church: Reverend Bowering had "silver" gray hair and I am SURE my mother complimented him on it (to this day, she loves gray hair and has no qualms about announcing it to ANYONE); the church had kickass craft fairs with lots of fattening treats that a chubby little kid would enjoy; church services were tolerable because there were little paper pads and pencils next to the hymns; and summer bible camp had some very "interesting" theatrical performances.

It had to be when I was in about 5th or 6th grade, but the summer bible camp put on a performance which featured a "boxing ring." Within the boxing ring were Adolph Hitler and Jesus, throwing symbolic air punches toward each other.

In the first starring role of my life, I played the role of Hitler. I recall having my hair tied back and under a cap, so that it was look short. I had a moustache painted on, in addition to an army-esque jacket that featured a swastika. I get that these were props, but in retrospect, the whole idea was fucked up. If that lesson plan idea were part of 2012 bible camp, it would surely be featured on some news show. It kind of makes me think of a recent news story where students in Michigan, some African-American, had to write a narrative in which they pretended to be slaves. Parents were enraged. Now, imagine the scene of your child coming home from bible camp: "Mom, I got the lead role in the play. I'm Hitler!"

An Ohio Sky

2012-01-19T19:09:00.002-05:00

There's a certain type of winter sky that reminds me of Ohio. When I was younger, we used to visit Ohio every Christmas. Other families went to exciting, warm places like Florida or the Carolinas. We went to Ohio. Today's late afternoon sky sky is an Ohio sky.

The December sky is Ohio is a constant gray. It's not a dark, charcoal gray, but rather is a muted gray. It's a sky of indecisiveness. If it was an indecisive sky, the weather was mild (30 degrees or higher) and tolerable. If the sky was muted white, the weather was stark cold; the type of weather where uncovered skin turns bright pink within mere minutes.

They're forecasting snow for tonight. I am going into "kid mode," assuming that there will be some type of delay tomorrow. When we have school delays, I always have lofty goals of getting housework done or doing something else productive; instead, I always succumb to going back to sleep.

Even though we had Monday off, I feel like this week has dragged. A 90 minute delay would surely be welcomed.

Self-Indulgent Facebook Posts

2012-01-17T16:51:00.001-05:00

One of my biggest pet peeves is when people make Facebook posts about the "tough lives" they endure--you know, taking grad school classes and having lots of work to do. It's spring semester time, so I guess I should not be surprised at some of today's posts. Someone posted a picture of his textbooks and wrote "So it begins. Starting classes tonight. God help me." Someone else posted how yesterday was her last day of "freedom." At the end of last semester, I recall someone posted about getting history papers and stating something along the lines of "woe is me."

Here's background information. Some of these people live at home with their parents. Yes, I know how stressful it is to go to college and have cheap and/or free rent, laundry facilities, dinners cooked for you, and so forth. Some of these people come from fairly affluent backgrounds so, yes, they have to take grad classes and "work" at the same time but, no matter what, someone has (financially) always "got their back."

I try not to post complaints or "woe is me" comments on Facebook. There's so many people on this earth who actually are experiencing adversities; going to grad school for an advanced degree is not an adversity. It's a choice. Too many times, Facebook exists as a place to 1: try to gain pity from others, 2: pass along stupid "awareness" emails about causes like breast cancer when it would be better for people to get off their ass and do something REAL for the cause, and 3: give play by play of sports events.

I guess I could be seen as a hypocrite...my previous post about having a cold is basically "woe is me." However, this is a blog... it's different :)

Verge of a cold

2012-01-16T19:53:00.000-05:00

I can't blame anyone except my stubborn self. I'm the one who gallivants outside with a hooded sweatshirt, Uggs slipper "shoes," and a scarf--assuming that that combination of clothing will be suitable for 18 degree weather.

I woke up this morning, tired (normal) and feeling weak (less normal). My throat is scratchy and my lips have become simultaneously chapped and enlarged---not a sexy combination. I basically stayed in all day, sleeping, reading, and drinking white tea. White tea consists of tea, sugar, and an abundance of half and half. I had plans of going to the gym anyway, but succumbed to sleep.

I've also been eating large amounts of oranges and crossing my fingers that a magical vehicle will come to my door, bearing gifts of Won ton soup (in my mind, the "cure" for the common cold)....

Winter Weekends

2012-01-14T14:21:00.000-05:00

I am not interested in hiking, skiing, snowboarding, or even the as-idle-as-you-want activity of snow shoeing. I have decided that winter weeks should go as follows: be healthy and on target with exercise goals during the week. Be saintly. When Friday hits, feel free to partake in copious amounts of food and drink, copious amounts of drink more than food.

Last night, we hung out @ Jen's. Pasta night. Light on the pasta, heavy on the mix of vodka and diet Sprite. It's now 2:00 the next day and I am still loafing around. I plan on going to the gym for about an hour. I won't work out too hard, just a short stint on the treadmill, but it will make me feel less guilty for this evening's pursuit---party at Dustin's. More food and mixed "diet" cocktails. Recovery will be tomorrow.

Honestly, with the cold winter weather, I think that my activity pattern is pretty wise. What else is there to do?

Stream of Consciousness

2012-01-12T22:16:00.000-05:00

(I wrote this Wednesday afternoon, at 4:30...I didn't post it from work because I am CUH-RAZE and figure that you shouldn't complain about work and post it during work time...at a public school ...)

End of day and head feels like it is pressed in between a vise. Trying to have robot-like efficiency and still failing to complete all necessary tasks. I’d love to have a blood pressure machine in my classroom. I’d measure blood pressure levels at the beginning and end of class, finding twisted amusement in how 14 year olds can aggravate me. The sound of my fingers tapping on the keyboard--- writing lesson plans and composing carefully worded emails to parents--- that sound annoys me to no end. It’s the sound of franticness, but ultimately leads to the same outcome. Some people leave the building as soon as we are permitted; in my classroom (“lair”) I can heard them exit their rooms, as the sound of door slamming echoes through the empty halls. Little things annoy me--- the rust stain on the classroom carpeting because the summer crew was too lazy to lift up a heavy metal bookcase before shampooing the carpet, how kids can complain about any particular element at any given time (It’s too hot in here, it’s too cold in here, this novel is boring, this novel is too hard, I hate reading), how kids can be ungrateful… I constantly think in my mind, I hope my children are not like most of the students that I have. I sometimes, often, feel like an idiot for continuing in this profession. Jersey is expensive, but if I lived somewhere else I truly think I would be content working at a bookstore or other small retailer, clocking in at a reasonable hour in the morning, clocking out at another reasonable evening hour, and then going home and enjoying….life.

How 'bout a goal in the other direction?

2012-01-08T11:54:00.000-05:00

So, lately, I've been going through my day to day eating regimen with this mindset: Fuck, you gained weight between mid-December and now...you're about 20 pounds from where you see your "healthy weight"...fuck, why not just go for the gusto and completely indulge in whatever you want???

I do recognize that my mindset is a very self-destructive one.

Since New Year's, like the rest of the American population, I have tried to have self-control. I can manage for most of the day, but then there are little indulgences that creep their way into my day...and i gorge. Working at the library yesterday, I had tons of cookies. Certain evenings this week have featured me taking triple trips to the fridge to slice segments of fruit cake, a very sugary, caloric, and fattening treat.

Now to Sunday. It's beyond indulging at this point. I feel disgusting. I feel unattractive. I feel too lazy and unenergized to have sex. This is a bad place to be.

I can say that I have a weight loss goal, in terms of pounds and ideal weight. Rather though, I'd like to have the goal of fitting into my green silk shirt in time for St. Patrick's Day. This was the shirt I wore to my bachelorette party and it makes me feel kickass sexy:)

So...in the words of Nina Simone..."it's a new dawn, it's a new day, and I'm feelin' fine."

I do think I will have to throw the rest of the fruit cake in the trash though..... :(

irony

2012-01-07T22:36:00.001-05:00

Went into JC Pennys tonight...steered quickly past the sexy lingerie and veered in self-deprecation territory, otherwise known as flannel PJ sets area. I didn't end up buying anything, but did have quite a laugh at a pajama set that I saw.

There was a book-themed PJ set, sized 1x. Size 1x is approximately the size I "could" be if I don't stop shoving food into my mouth sometime soon. Size 1x makes one eligible to shop at stores such as Lane Bryant, Fashion to Figure, and Avenue... One could even shop at Torrid, if she's a fat goth....

Anyway, the 1x PJ pants featured books and the matching shirt proclaimed: Don't Judge A Book By It's Movie. Yes, "it's," which translates to: Don't Judge A Book By It Is Movie. I should have looked to see if the set was made in the United States or not--although that would not necessarily have made the grammar mistake not appear anyway--Americans suck at basic grammar.

The funny thing about the PJ set was the saying was supposed to be witty. I imagine an overweight woman sitting at home on a Saturday night. The Netflix DVD of Water For Elephants rests on her nightstand, but she feels proud of herself for committing to first read the book before watching the film. A cup of Celestial Seasonings tea is near the DVD, probably some odd flavor like Acai Mango Zinger. She smiles after reading the wise quotation on the bottom of the tea box. Her cats surround her body on the bed, taking advantage of the warmth of her fat. She reads quietly, feeling righteous for her intellectual ways...

when the entire time she is wearing a shirt with incorrect grammar...

It just makes me laugh... and roll my eyes...simultaneously.

:)

Fuck at 7:57AM

2012-01-05T20:37:00.001-05:00

Last night was filled with gluttony. I came home from work, gazed at the computer screen for hours, and pacified my stress-induced hunger with carbs galore: Allagash beer, dinner rolls, fruitcake, and Tostitos. Sloth and overeating do not go well together. I went to bed, annoyed at myself for wasting the evening.

This morning the Language Arts teachers got a "surprise"- we had a workshop that administration forgot to tell us about. I scrambled to make plans for the substitute, relenting and just leaving a vocabulary sheet and a video.

I wasn't in the best mood today anyway, so a morning workshop actually turned out to be convenient.

Sitting at the table during the start of the workshop, I opened my purse and my cell phone fell across the ground. At 7:57...barely 20 minutes into the school day, I uttered, "Fuck" under my breath and my co-worker looked at me surprisingly. I explained how I only curse when I am stressed or taking a workout class for the first time and doing poorly.

Later in the day, I accidentally bit my lower lip twice. This was not sexy Kristen Stewart lip biting (which I've practiced doing in the mirror times before, without any success). This was "Fuck, I am stressed" lip biting.

We watched Portlandia the other day and while I know the show is spoofing Portland and while I know that "real Portland" has its good points and bad points, I want to move somewhere now...and I'd be okay with it being there:)

Back to work

2012-01-03T19:07:00.000-05:00

Today finally arrived-- the start back to work. It's amazing how 10 days off can put you in such a different mindset. My whole sleep cycle resembles that of a 20-something who goes to raves...Friday and Saturday had bedtimes of 4AM; Sunday's bedtime was 2AM. Screwing with my sleep cycle made last night horrendous. I kept waking up in the "middle of the night," which was the previous night's time to karaoke and hang out with friends.

On days during my winter break, there were times when I did not wake up until noon. With my teaching schedule, 3/4 of my classes are done by noon.

Today, as I walked into work, I actually witnessed the sun rising. Instead of walking through the halls and thinking, "Fuck, another day of work," I tried to appreciate the sight in front of me:

Competing with Michael Phelps for calories

2012-01-01T19:44:00.000-05:00

I have read articles that stated Michael Phelps' daily caloric intake (during training) as 10,000 calories. Within the past 24 hours, I feel like I have consumed a Phelps-worthy amount of calories.

Although today is technically the first day of the new year and would be an ideal day to start eating better, I have simply merged today with last night---in other words, I've just been on a day long food rampage:) I've consumed Tostitos chips, large amounts of seven layer dip (most of the seven layers being fatty substances like sour cream or guac), cupcakes, brownies, sweet potato chips (your daily serving of veggies--according to the packaging), pasta, chicken on skewers, and some token veggies and hummus.

I kind of like the idea of starting off the first day of the new year with utter gluttony and then, tomorrow, beginning anew. I guess I could have gone to the gym today and started off the new year "right," but the gym is notoriously PACKED on January 1st. I think it was much more intelligent to lie in bed in pajamas, consume abundant amounts of carbs without having any plans to really expend the energy that I consumed, and watch marathons of shows like Jersey Shore. I would say I feel horrible about watching such trashy tv, but honestly, everything on television today was garbage. A majority of channels had all day marathons, most of which were dreadful shows that encouraged vapidness and sloth, or a combination of both: Housewives of Atlanta, Keeping up with the Kardashians, One Life to Live, 650 Pound Virgin, House, Samantha Who, Storage Wars, Hoarders, and on and on. In following with the theme of today's television, I chose to be slothful today:)

Little anxieties

2011-12-28T11:48:00.000-05:00

I've been to a psychiatrist once in my life. It was about two years ago when I was on Accutane. After seeing a barrage of commercials which linked Accutane use to potential increase in suicide risk, John wanted me to see somebody. In retrospect, it would be humorous if those Accutane/suicide link commercials were something created by the pharmaceuticial makers and American Psychiatry Association---some kind of conspiracy to further increase the amount of Americans on meds.

The psychiatrist... His dark-framed glasses and sweater stand out in my memory; I can't recall if the sweater featured elbow patches, but I wouldn't doubt it. At the end of the session, during which I cried profusely in regard to hatred toward my mother, he gave me a prescription---for another therapist. He concluded that I did not need to be medicated but that, indeed, I definitely would benefit from talking my problems out with someone.

I still have the prescription on my fridge, just because I thought it was hilarious---getting a prescription to see someone else.

Anxiety. Although my constantly low blood pressure might make it seem like I have little anxiety, that's absolutely false. I just try to avoid situations where I know I will be anxious (rush hour traffic, "peak" times at stores and shopping centers, communicating with my mother, etc).

When I feel anxious, there are a few common reactions: crying hysterically and biting my nails.

We're having the New Year's party on Saturday and I am definitely feeling stressed. I've been trying to clean the rooms of the house, all of which contains pile of MY stuff. I found some items that could be classified as "historic": my 2004 teacher ID card, an ice cream store gift certificate from 2007 (I WILL be going and checking the gift card's validity sometime soon), souvenirs that I bought for friends on my 2006 trip to Montana, and so on.

Most of all, I found tons of photo frames, about a dozen--all unfilled. I filled the frames and then felt anxiety about displaying them and hanging them up. This is a commonality with me--I have this odd anxiety about hanging stuff up on the wall. I guess it comes down to not wanting to hang something in the wrong spot and then leave a hole behind. So, in other words, I am fucking crazy:)

I did hang up a few things, include the custom-made watercolor painting of the Flash (comic hero, not our former cat) that John had his friend make.

And I didn't hysterically cry or bite my nails while hanging things up...Anxiety over hanging things up---seems ridiculously lame when I read over my typed words...

Progress. Progress.....

Hoarders also host parties

2011-12-27T14:25:00.000-05:00

So, we are hosting a New Year's Eve party this Saturday. My friend Jen asked, "What's your menu,?" to which I replied, "Pizza and beer." I'll have more items beyond that but, honestly, my friends are not Hoboken yuppies who are expecting homemade sushi and complicated cocktails. Food for the event is fairly easy. Decorations are definitely easy--and something I actually am looking forward to.

There does remain one stumbling block though: a clutter-free house.

When I watch episodes of Hoarders, I sometimes do see a little bit of myself within the people on the show. I too don't always throw boxes away because, hey, you may need them sometime. The 2 bucks you'd have to pay for a USPS box dominates over the space that boxes will take up in one's home. Also, I definitely do hold onto some items for sentimental reasons. It took about 3 times of playing trash-tug-of-war before I finally threw out my black Converse shoes. They were filthy and the laces were shredded to pieces, but my reason for wanting to keep them was that I wore them on my honeymoon and they had "red dirt" from Kaui on them. Kind of ridiculous reasoning, when I think in retrospect.

Today, I ALMOST threw out my red/black patterned sarong style skirt. I have had this skirt for about 9 years and haven't worn it because it is "wrap style" and I fear having a wardrobe malfunction while wearing it. However, I want to keep it because I like the pattern and...that's about it.

John is taking our myriad of boxes to the recycling center today. I am going to work on organizing a bag of clothing and books for Good Will. One step at a time, as they say...

Fuck it-I'll donate the sarong skirt. I've owned the skirt for 1/3 of my life and have never worn it...it needs to be donated:)

But...here's a photo...for posterity. Actually, now that I look at the pattern, it's definitely matronly... not what I want to look like in my life, at this point.

Mall Men

2011-12-24T10:07:00.002-05:00

The past two days have been thoroughly entertaining, from a sociological standpoint. Going to the mall, Walmart, and various other shopping venues, I have been amused by the different shopping methods of males and females.

When it comes to shopping, women "graze." Even if we wait until the last minute, our last minute is at least 7 days before Christmas. We tend to scope out the various gift options, going from store to store, but not immediately buying anything. We take several days to get the git buying task complete and then go on the quest for little trinkets or doodads to add to the gifts when we wrap them. We'll go into a gigantic store to buy a single hologram ribbon or some other "individualized" item.

When it comes to shopping, men wait until the last possible moment. Conceptually, they attempt to get as many gifts in as few stores as possible. Many of them have a blank look across their faces, comparable to the ubiquitous "deer in the headlights" look. Whereas women will shop around for the best possible prices, men will frantically grab items off the shelves, willing to pay whatever they have to pay because they realize they procrastinated. Most interesting is the line inside various jewelry stores. I know nothing about jewelry, but I'd think that buying jewelry in a smaller town store would be significantly better than some chain store like Helzberg. If you walk past mall jewelry stores, you see men huddled inside... carefully deciding between which piece of jewelry to get. Inevitably, about 50% of the men will just succumb to buying the trendy "love" necklace of the season. A few years ago it was the "past, present, future" diamonds. Then the "infinity circle" arrived. More recently was the half-heart pendant, which our family dubbed "the turd necklace." I've always said I have wanted a heart locket necklace, but something tells me that in reality I would find that gift monumentally cheesy and lackluster.

There's also always the amusement of the stone-faced men who have been dragged along on shopping ventures with their wives or girlfriends. These men look like they are being put through some modern-day form of punishment. Best are the men who sit in the "comfy" chairs while their spouses try on clothing.

Secret Santa Sucks

2011-12-22T19:10:00.000-05:00

Every year, we have Secret Santa at work. This is the third year I have participated; it's also the third year that I have been disappointed with the final gift. All three years have ended with the final gift being a gift card. One year was a Kohl's card, the next was Barnes and Noble, and this year was Dunkin' Donuts. I filled out the Secret Santa likes/dislikes list pretty well---not too thoroughly to seem like a pain in the ass---but just enough information so that someone could have fun shopping for me. Each year, the activity ends in the same result: I get chocolates, gummi bears, FOOD, and a final gift card that says (in my mind), "You're a pain to shop for."

When I think about people shopping for me, I don't think I am that difficult of a person to shop for. I do have some quirks with clothing, but I do have some other terrain where there is utmost freedom. The quirks with clothing include a few things that I immensely dislike. I hate white anything. I dislike brand names being on the outer part of clothing. I only like pants that have pockets on the ass, work pants included. Pants sans ass pockets just make me feel like I look heavier. I also dislike pink, yellow, and anything light colored. Basically, I am an insecure emo kid.

My likes are fun though---wacky earrings ---I'll wear anything on my ears... Any scarf will suffice too. Scarves and earrings of any kind...that's a broad range of things.

And I end up with the Dunkin Donuts card... Agh. I spend time for Secret Santa, composing "clue poems" and making sure to buy actual gifts... and in return, end up with someone basically saying, "Hey, go get yourself some coffee and doughnuts."

Also... the lamest part...this year's Secret Santa was the vice-principal...

Join the masses

2011-12-18T10:00:00.000-05:00

Typically, my Sundays do not feature a huge list of errands to do. However, no matter how little I have to accomplish, crowds always seem to be part of the day.

Today I have to go food shopping at Costco (sheer madness--- John generally goes midweek--- to go food shopping on a Sunday is pure masochism). I have to finish Amy's Christmas gift, a photo album of tons of pictures of us. This requires me to go to Walmart or another "discount store" and use their photo machine. Places like that are PACKED today. Furthermore, the photo copy kiosks tend to get crowded around this time of the year. I have 10, maximum, photos to copy. Other people will be standing at the machine, printing out photos from the dawn of time. I also have to go to Michael's to get some minor crafting supplies for making ornaments.

None of the above tasks are particularly time-consuming, but the fact that the masses are out today is what makes the tasks significantly more miserable.

I have always said that it is not as if I am claustrophobic or anything, but I just really detest crowds. Guess it makes perfect sense that I continue to live my life in the nation's most densely populated state.....

Roving eyes, but otherwise civil behavior

2011-12-14T21:16:00.000-05:00

I went to the school's chorus concert tonight. The crowd's behavior was definitely better than it was during last week's band concert. I, however, was in the 4th row this time, whereas last time, I was among the (what is seemed) dregs of society in the back of the gym.

There was one point during the show when some of the dancers from a previous number came back out onto the risers, to sing with the rest of the chorus. A few of these girls had on extremely short skirts. The short skirts were black and contrasted with the either tan legs (from ladylike leggings or stockings) or bare, pale legs. As the girls, got onto the risers to perform the next song, I could see a small group of 8th grade boys' eyes moving with the girls' bodies.

I had a "mom moment" too; all I kept thinking was, If my daughter wore something like that and, simultaneously, If my son's eyes roved like that. At least, the eye roving seems more natural and "acceptable." I can't take the inappropriate clothing.

I guess I should just assume, at this juncture, that John and I will have an only child who is socially awkward and probably needs to be homeschooled because her mother will be nuts:)

Me VS. Pink

2011-12-12T21:16:00.000-05:00

For as long as I can remember, I've disliked the color pink. I can't really pinpoint a specific reason for my detest of the color, but I can pinpoint three specific instances in which I experienced actual detest.

1. The pink Easter dress--- in third grade, I recall an instance where my mother was purchasing Easter dresses for Amy and me. This was when we still had some semblance of religious beliefs and before I was smart enough to ask, "If there is a god, why would he make such horrible things happen to people?" We were in Kmart, I recall that specifically. I wanted this knee length dress; it had satin material and lace material over the satin layer. There was a thick satin ribbon in the middle of the dress that tied around the back. I loved that dress...in pale blue. My mother allowed me to get the dress, but I had to get it in the pink shade. I truly think this experience simultaneously cemented my hatred for pink and for my mother.

2. The bubble gum sweatsuit--- Maybe it was because I was a fat child and buying elastic waisted pants and cotton tops are easier than "regular" clothes. Maybe it was because someone in the family thought the outfit was "cute." For a Christmas gift, I received a sweatsuit set. The top portion was a pink sweatshirt with a gumball machine smack dab in the middle. The pants were also pink with brightly colored gumballs up and down the legs. This sweatsuit was horrible --- comparable to the pink bunny outfit that Ralphie has to wear in Christmas Story. I'd say that someone else out there must be able to relate, but surely no one else has family members that would buy her such an atrocious outfit...and embarrassing too...I was in 5th grade!

3. Bedroom walls--- Since childhood, the bedroom walls of the house where I grew up were a shade of pink. The walls were technically a pale mauve, but the shade was close enough to pink to warrant my loathing. When I was in high school, I loved the black and white magazine ads that were trendy for brands like Guess and Calvin Klein. My bedroom walls were covered with various photos, artistic advertisements, and anything else that would shroud the pink underneath. Most of the photos were of male models. In retrospect, my bedroom must have been a frightening place for any teenage boy...not that there were many in my bedroom...just one.

Adulthood has made me accept pink a slight bit more. Hot pink is okay for 80s concerts, but for any other occasion...it's still dreadful.

Long haired guys

2011-12-11T16:51:00.000-05:00

I guess I quite like long-haired men. One would never know it because every guy I have dated has had regular length hair, however, long hair usually is reserved for specific groups of men: earthy hippies and musicians...neither of which I have technically dated.

Clay Matthews. Gigantic beastly build with huge arms. That's not what gets me though. The long blonde hair. It's just awesome. I don't think I would "look good" with a guy that looked like Matthews, but I guess in the realm of fantasizing or "crushin' " that appearance compatibility does not matter.

Last night, we went to see Kyuss Lives. One of the opening bands was a doom metal band called Sword. I didn't like the music too much--- a bit too loud for my tastes (which translates into "please lower the thrashing guitars and increase the nice drum beat")---but I was entranced by the guitarist. I only realized he was the guitarist after Googling the band; last night, I was stuck as to whether he was the bassist or guitarist. I don't know the difference.

Anyway, the guitarist was tall and had a medium build. He had a SLIGHT paunch, but nothing too noticeable. Obviously, he is the type of guy who does not have to work out, but still keeps a fairly good build. His hair was long and blonde, flipping back and forth in front of his face as he played. I was awed by how the swaying hair did not break his concentration. I mean, if you're in the middle of playing doom metal, I guess strands of hair in your face do not affect you...but I was just all the more entranced.

After the band played, John asked what I thought of them. I replied, "Eh, they were ok, but the guitar player with the long hair was hot." He had no idea who I was talking about, despite the fact that ALL of the other band members had shoulder length and shorter hair. He was entranced by the music more than the musicians' looks:)

On the way to the parking garage, we actually saw the guitarist on the streets of Montclair. John complimented him on his band's performance and the guy nodded his head, acknowledging the praise. As he walked further away, John yelled down the street, "My wife thinks you're hot too!"

:)

Decline of Civilization

2011-12-08T19:56:00.000-05:00

Last night, I went to the school's band concert. Walking into the gym area (where the "stage" was set up) was a bit of a downer. Only about 50% of the chairs were filled. I arrived just as the "Star Spangled Banner" was playing; I entered by the gym's back entrance and sat in one of back rows. I basically occupied the last "person-filled"row. Behind me, there was about 20 other empty rows.

Apparently, during school band concerts, the back area of the gym is representative of the utter decline of civilization. A few rows ahead a little girl swayed back and forth, while standing, on an aluminum chair. I kept worrying about her falling over. Moreso, I worried how I would have to react since I was sitting so nearby. I am not too effective in emergency situations.

On the bleachers sat a child without a parent in sight. He was playing on a portable video game device. Rude enough, yes, but the game's volume was actually quite high. I could hear the PSP's noise even over the band's rendition of "Iron Man."

Also, a few rows near me, there was a woman who seemed to be rubbing the back of her son's head. She kept rubbing his head and seemed to be intertwining strands of his hair. There seemed to exist two possibilities explaining her odd behavior. She was either braiding small strands of his hair OR checking his hair for insects or parasites, much like a tribal member of yore.

Additionally, there was this man, thin and with a small moustache, who kept frantically waving to one of the children in the band. At one point, this man did some pseudo-sign language and gestured toward himself, mouthing, "I love you" with great emphasis.

Furthermore, throughout the concert, there was continuously some sort of noise or background chatter going on.

It's just disturbing...and this behavior from a supposed "affluent" community. Affluence is obviously not synonymous with civility or class.

New Ad Slogans

2011-12-07T17:01:00.000-05:00

During Christmas time, stores' inventories are overwrought with utter junk. The person who has room for a quesadilla maker, panini maker, waffle iron, and other kitchen accoutrements surely lives in a mansion and does not need those things because he/she has maid service. Any other person does not need those items because he/she does not have the room for them.

There are some phenomenally stupid gift ideas this Christmas. Somehow, whenever I have seen or heard advertisements for these items, my own carefully crafted alternate ad slogans have instead entered my mind:

1. Pajamagram- what to get for the spouse you no longer want to have sex with

2. Babycakes Cupcake Maker- for the stupid person in your life

3. Vitamin and aloe infused socks- really?

4. Genie Bra- when you're too lazy to put on a real bra

I can't make too much fun of the Genie bra... we had "twin day" at work and a colleague and I dressed up. We decided to wear white shirts, gray cardigans, black pants, black shoes, and green/blue plaid scarves. In other words, we were dressed up as conservative white women. I needed "flesh tone" for under the white shirt, so went and purchased the Genie bra. It's pretty awesome...like a sports bra, but makes it actually look like you have breasts. However, yes, I am too lazy to put on "real" undergarments with hooks and straps.

Livestrong

2011-12-04T10:50:00.000-05:00

I spazzed out at John yesterday. The onslaught of words went something like this : "Yeah, I know I gained weight and I'll never be a smaller weight. And your whole family always says, 'John, you look great,' but you're a 32 year old majoring in Exercise Science so of course you will strive to look your best. Your cousin is healthy and is a marathon runner, but that's only because she is a former drug addict and needs something new to get addicted to."

Kind of a stream of consciousness....

I affirmed that I eat healthy, but eat huge portions. I also said that since I have felt crummy lately, I have basically taken healthy things and desecrated them by adding butter and sugar and/or cooking with copious amounts of canola oil.

We went onto the livestrong website and tracked my eating for the past two days. Breakfast and lunch were fine, but dinner was the bulk of my daily caloric intake. Dinner also featured large amounts of carbs. Fat intake was high, but mainly due to uncontrolled amounts of almonds.

John mapped out a food plan for me that makes it so I have more frequent snacks in the mid-day, thus (hopefully) off-setting my crazy night meals.

Today is day one. I have stuck to the breakfast meal plan. I'm even trying coffee without sugar.....

We'll see.

Andy Warhol of high school

2011-11-29T22:10:00.003-05:00

I was looking at an old photo album from high school. During my high school years, there is an abundance of photos; however, I am not very prominent in them. My albums have tons of "in action" pictures of others, almost as I was using my horrifically outdated (regular 35mm camera...no frills) as an outsider view into their world. Plenty of photos have my friends in them, but other photos feature people that I was not particularly close to.

In the photos where I am actually shown, I am the epitome of angst. My face is generally facing downward, my shoulders are hunched, and my body is pulled forward. When they make the current videos and public service announcements about bullying, a photo of high school me could be equivalent to the "bullying target." In retrospect, I wonder, why didn't anybody intervene ...somehow?

Besides my awkward body motions, I also wore plentiful amounts of guy clothing...

In the words of a good (current) friend who recently saw some high school photos of me: "Fuck! You look like a dyke...."

Someone needed to tell me that honest statement back in 1998...the dyke "look" was definitely not the intent...

Karaoke...to help ease a case of the Mondays

2011-11-28T23:10:00.000-05:00

I've tried a variety of things to get myself prepped for Monday mornings: drinking copious amounts of caffeine...mixing copious amounts of caffeine with a small dose of caffeine tablets... making sure that I have every possible element of my work day planned or packed away in advance (clothing choice, lunches, gym clothes, etc)...even spastically jumping up and down on a trampoline in hopes of "energizing" myself.

Nothing works. I suck at Mondays. Despite living four miles from work, having an extremely quiet homeroom, and having a well-behaved 1st period class, I still suck at Mondays.

Therefore, if I normally am still wide awake on Sunday night (basically always an occurrence...since year one of teaching I have not even contemplating going to sleep until at least 11:30, i.e. when the old Fox Five reruns of Seinfeld ended).

Last night was goth night @ karaoke. I generally go to karaoke anyway, but took special excitement in walking out of my house at 9:30 on a Sunday night, clad in black and deep red. Garnet hair extensions, black shirt with white and red mermaid design, short skirt, leggings, Doc Martens, and dark makeup composed the entire look. While driving to karaoke, I made certain to stay within the speed limit... I couldn't really envision the scene of being pulled over by a cop and looking how I looked.

So... I went to karaoke... tested out a new song (AC/DC's "You Shook Me All Night Long") and realized my voice is nowhere near whatever Angus Young's "range" is. Secondly, I sang The Donnas' "Take It Off"- they obviously are shitty singers because whenever I sing their songs, I sound good. That's my gauge for assessing singers' talents...if I can karaoke their song and make it sound good, they obviously are horrible.

Got home at 1, shimmied restlessly in the bed for awhile, and then fell asleep. I woke up around 6:20 and, reluctantly, got ready for work. Although I had washed off most of the makeup, some of the dark eyeliner remained on my face... the hilariousness of the fact that leftover goth makeup actually made my "work makeup" look better.

Damsel in Distress

2011-11-27T14:53:00.000-05:00

I exited the gym today and saw quite the scene--- a guy with low-hung cargo shorts and prominent plaid boxers, a girl cozily reclining in the driver's seat, and a dismantled car door.

I'm not the best with situational context clues but after noticing the coy grin on the girl's face and seeing the guy applying something to the door track, I figured out the scene: he was fixing something with the car motors. Since he took off the inside part of the door, I am assuming it had to be something to do with the power locks or windows.

The whole scene was just a bit silly. As he was laboring over the door, she sat (backwards) in the driver's seat, just sitting there and cutely smiling.

This is why I have a car with manual windows and locks. Similar to the parking lot girl, I do not want to pay large amounts of money to have labor done to the power locks and windows. Unlike the parking lot girl, I don't want to have to flirt with some guy to get the work done for free....in the gym parking lot, nonetheless.

I will, however, use cute smiles to help make my way through busy traffic intersections :)

Success!

2011-11-27T12:53:00.001-05:00

The turkey sat on the counter in its packaging for most of the day. The thought of taking the giblets and neck out of the body cavity was the cause for procrastination.

Around 5pm I finally removed the plastic netting from the outer packaging. I somehow cut my finger in the process. I have this amazing ability to suffer small cuts and abrasions when opening packages, even when I am very cautious. I stuck my hand in the body cavity and , boom, out came the neck. Honestly, I know understand why some people are vegetarians. Normally, I eat chicken breasts... no wings or anything that resemble the animal. The chicken breasts are basically flat pieces of meat. However, while "washing" the turkey, it felt odd... the turkey looks like a turkey (duh).

Next, while using my recipe (courtesy of the "reputable" simplerecipes.com), I put onions and carrots into the body cavity. We didn't have fresh carrots so I figured that defrosted carrots from a Normandy-style blend would work just as well. I had a bunch of herbs from John's mom. Instead of mincing them, I just tossed them in a blender. I'm really horrible at cutting things and, again, generally somehow cut myself. Then, I mixed the herbs with melted butter and put them on the outside of the turkey. We somehow lost our basting brush but, luckily, I have tons of new craft brushes. For once, my lack of crafting (but abundance of supplies) came in handy. I had extra herbs on stems and didn't know what to do with them, so I stuck them in what may have been an inappropriate orifice on the turkey....

Three and a half hours later and the turkey came out of the oven. I was desperately hoping that the turkey would be better than Anna's... to cook one for the first time and have it be better than your mother-in-law's...that would be great.

Alas, the turkey was not as good as Anna's... but it was better than my mother's.... sober mom too...if you look to the left, those "dried" twigs are the herbs that I stuck in the ...orifice.

Making my first turkey..otherwise known as, if you do not see me at work on Monday, I food poisoned myself

2011-11-26T14:45:00.001-05:00

I have an orphan turkey in the fridge. At Kumon Learning Center, a student's parent was trying to get rid of an extra turkey. Just the premise that somebody would have an extra turkey is amusing enough. At first, I said, "Sorry, I can't take it. I just cook omelets and that's about it." Then, I ruminated for a few moments and responded, "Sure, I'll take it."

The turkey has been in the fridge since Monday and now the day of reckoning has arrived---when said turkey is basted and tossed in the oven.

The only challenge is that I have never cooked a turkey before. In fact, I have never cooked anything in the oven, with the exception of cupcakes, yams, fries, and shake-n-bake chicken.

Normally, I have a pretty good attention span, but after viewing the seven steps to make a turkey (online tutorial), I grew annoyed. I am not looking forward to taking the innards out of the turkey... honestly, I consider it a "man's job," much like taking out the trash.

John's at the gym now...think I will play role of sous chef and get the herbs ready...then wait for him to come home and remove the innards...

Seriously, making a turkey can not be that difficult. I recall times from childhood when my mother was drunk and made turkeys. Surely, a sober person can manage to make a turkey....

Nightmare Before Halloween, 2011

2011-10-31T10:31:00.002-05:00

I can't take credit for that clever entry title. It was the heading for the Star Ledger's front page article on Sunday, 10/30.

So-- we have been without heat or power since late afternoon on Saturday. I'm trying to look at things humourously- what else can I do? I read part of Bram Stoker's Dracula by candlelight on Saturday night-- how truly apropos. I've been eating a steady amount of Greek yogurt mixed in with semi-frozen strawberries. Freshly purchased meat was placed in a cooler outside, with ice cubes and piles of snow. Foolishly, I did not think about the possibility of a bear scavenging for food and finding the cooler. The cooler was moved to the garage before said bear could get to it. My phone fell into a snowbank and once the snow melts, some possible lucky person will have access to pictures of a shirtless, "cut" John.

The entire humor of this situation rests upon the theory that there is a Halloween "curse" associated with John. During the course of our relationship, he has only purchased costumes on two occasions. The one year which he purchased a plus size Geisha girl costume and was planning on going "gung ho" with the whole costume idea was the same Halloween that my grandmother passed away. Fast forward to years later and the instance in which John buys the barely covered Greek warrior costume is the same time at which a freakish autumnal snow storm occurs. Clearly, the man should never buy a costume again.

So.... it's now Monday and we still have no power. Whenever I breathe inside the house, I can see the small circles that my breath forms. Also, today I am going to test out Costco's amazing return policy by returning the meats that we bought Saturday (still, somehow, basically frozen). I want to see if I can get my 50 bucks back.

Someone I know from Rockaway Township Fire Dept. says power will not be up in Rockaway until Friday! John's parents finally got power back. So....worst case scenario is...staying at in-laws and having access to laundry facilities, utter warmth, and kickass food:) I'll take it.

Simpleton

2011-10-16T11:47:00.000-05:00

It's so aggravating that the realization that I have no desire to own a house has arrived after we have moved into a house...

There's an end in sight...If we put the house on the market after July of 2012, we do not have to pay back the 8,000 dollar tax credit we got. July...somewhat of an end is in sight.

This morning, while putting dishes away in the kitchen, I recalled that I do actually own "china" and "nice" cutlery; it's all in boxes at the in-laws' house. I have no desire to actually display those pieces in my "china cabinet." The china cabinet currently houses a few wine glasses and...that's about it.

I think when I got married some people thought I would transform into domesticated Michelle--- hosting cookie swaps, serving meals on china, and so forth. I don't think everyone had that viewpoint but surely some people thought to themselves, "Yeah, she'll grow up a bit."

I don't think there is anything wrong with not having the desire to cook or bake...nothing wrong with not really caring about window "treatments"...nothing wrong with not wanting to have the house decorated based on seasonal or holiday themes.

I think back to October of 2008... I was certainly still "me," but I definitely altered part of myself, amidst the wedding planning hoopla. Back then, I had the bright blonde highlights and ultra tan skin. I looked like a Californian caricature of myself.

I'm glad to be back to me.

Ruminations on Belly Dancing

2011-10-12T21:10:00.000-05:00

Tonight was class #2 of belly dancing. As usual, with any class that requires rhythm or coordination, I proved to be mediocre. I honestly want to ask my mother if I had issues with "my right" and "my left" when I was a child---as an adult, I have no kinesthetic intelligence. When everyone turns to the right, I am turning to the left. When people have their left arms flailing in the air, my right arms are flailing. I had to have experienced some developmental delay as a child---HAD to...

At one point in the class, four of us had to perform the "routine" at the same, while the remaining members of the class watched. There a slight applause after our group went; honestly, I think they were clapping because they realized that someone in the class could now officially be crowned "the worst," thus making themselves feel better. It's okay to be poor at something, so long as you are not the worst.

Me, I revel in being mediocre when it comes to physical tasks. I just laugh at myself and have fun with it. While I struggled with shoulder shimmies, the instructor asked, "Haven't you ever been coy or flirty with someone? That's what shoulder shimmies are like." I turned toward Jess and whispered, "Thank god I met John on the Internet...sexy dances move would have gotten me nowhere with men."

At this point, I am so happy that I am at a point in my life where I can laugh at my lack of rhythm and coordination. I think back to high school gym class, any element of it, and moments were completely miserable. I could not catch a ball, run at a decent pace, or even keep up with the movements in step aerobics. Belly dancing is crazy challenging, but I am just having fun with it. I haven't said "fuck" once during the class, so that's an additional positive sign.

Besides, I already have a solution for my bad dance moves:I am going to get breast implants and buy a kickass corset. That way when I belly dance, I will give the illusion of amazing dance skills with my jutting curves:)

Money, or lack of, changes everything

2011-09-28T16:35:00.000-05:00

I am sitting here at the computer, listening to the Smiths. I LOVE "This Charming Man" and know that there is a tshirt out there that proclaims "I would go out tonight but I haven't got a stitch to wear." If I got that shirt, I'd definitely wear it out, although it would be the epitome of stupid, unwitty irony.

In my head, I think, "20 bucks on a tshirt? You could pay most of the water bill. You could pay 1/5 of the cable bill. You could fill half of the gas tank with fuel." In other words, I think of stupid adult-like things that are incredibly irritating and UNfun.

I seriously want to be back in an apartment. I want to spend minimal amounts of income on housing and just enjoy doing whatever the fuck I want in life. When we lived in the apartment, I still lived frugally. If I lived in the apartment now, I would spend money more freely. I want to buy stupid tshirts and revel in them. I want to have "dry heat" that is so freakishly hot in the winter that I open the windows and walk around in tshirts and boxers. I want to not hear the heat kick on and think, "Fuck. $3.30 a gallon for oil." I want to go places--- odd places, wacky places---and just have fun. I would definitely make sure that John and I went on a vacation each summer.

Anyone who thinks that owning a house is the "American dream" is an "American idiot"...at least if the person lives on the East Coast....

Pantyhose Problems

2011-09-25T08:44:00.000-05:00

So...most of the time I go to work sans stockings or pantyhose. I don't know the difference between the two, but I do know that both forms of nylon are a pain in the ass.

Tonight was Back to School Night so I figured I'd "school marm" it up and wear a dress, a cardigan, and heels. Heels do not work with bare skin, so I purchased two pairs of pantyhose-esque items to "test out." The first item is made by Spanx company and is a body shaper. I bought size 5, otherwise known as YOU ARE FUCKING HUGE. Size 5's weight range starts at 220 pounds. I am nowhere near 200 pounds, but I figured if I bought something that fit a heavy person that it would be easier to get it on. The whole struggle with pantyhose is actually getting the damn things on. There's even a shortcut trick to help ease the process of getting pantyhose on-- you put them in the freezer. It just makes it easier to get them on, especially if your legs are "fleshier," shall we say, than most.

The Spanx shaper stopped once it reached my thighs. So- apparently, my legs are normal-sized but once my upper thigh is reached, my legs have a circumference wider than the anticipated circumference of a size "5," or a 200 pound woman.

Elastics and nylon are complicated.

The second purchase was a pair of regular pantyhose; I bought "just my size," which was both the brand name and the truth. I carefully read the graph on the back of the package and purchased my real size.

Those pantyhose wouldn't go on either! No wonder why I've gone the hippie route with wearing flowery skirts, sans pantyhose, and sandals to work.

I ended up just wearing an older pair of stockings...or pantyhose...I really don't know what the difference is, as both are just incredibly irritating. Anyway, my legs looked pasty, as the stockings were a lighter shade than "tan" or "sun-kissed." Pastiness---ultimate school marm look.

Having kids and getting fat

2011-09-10T12:33:00.000-05:00

When I look at photos of friends and acquaintances who have had children, I see two main patterns:

1) If the person is a teacher (male or female, doesnt matter), the person seems to stay the same weight. In terms of women, I notice that female teachers who recently have had babies, eventually "bounce back" into their shape.

2) A lot of people who have had children are FAT.

Women gain weight for obvious reasons-- a remainder of the "baby weight" left over even after the baby is born. Men gain weight after their wives have babies just because they "let go." They have this notion that now that they have a family, they can just completely indulge in stupid bullshit of life---mainly eating to cover up their misery of attending stupid events like birthday parties involving princess themes, balloon making, ...

I know there's been research done about "happiness" levels of single people vs. married people vs. married people with children. While research can completely be twisted around and warped to whatever the researcher desires to prove, there have definitely been research that has shown that having children does not necessarily add to one's own happiness.

Interesting how society makes it seem like if you do not have children, you are forever doomed for misery---guess they have to do something to further balance/increase the population though...

I know we're not dealing with overpopulation in the U.S. right now. However, the next birth control/family planning/teenage pregnancy prevention ad campaign should be wordless. All you need are before and after photos of Moms and Dads.

Hips Don't Lie

2011-09-02T20:42:00.000-05:00

Most people attach memories to photos. Research says that many people also attach memories to scents. While I agree with both of those "mental scrapbooking" methods, I also use clothing as a means of remembering moments in life.

Old Navy burgundy halter top. I had this shirt in college and it was definitely my attempt at dressing sexy. I quite like my collar bone area and halter tops easily draw attention to that area. I remember wearing this shirt while dating John. I remember Friday evening, in particular, when we were supposed to meet up with his friends at Charlie Brown's...yes, the now defunct Charlie Brown's Steakhouse. Apparently, Charlie Brown's was the hip place for the Chathamites to gather.

It was the spring, a few months before I turned 21 years old. It was after ten and we were sitting at a table, but it was near the bar area. I had that burgundy halter top on, trying to be "sexy" for the evening. Regular evening wear for me was a tshirt, with hooded sweatshirt over, old jeans, and Birks.

The night I tried to be sexy turned into the night where I got kicked out of the bar. Even though we weren't drinking, or attempting to order drinks, they made us leave because I was not 21.

Burgundy halter top. 10 years later. I am now age 31. I weigh about 13 pounds more than I weighed during the Charlie Brown's episode. I haven't worn this shirt for ages. Right now, I just tried it on. The shirt fits well on top--- collar bone still looks sexy, shoulders and arms are decent-looking, and the shirt is slightly loose on my belly. DAMN hips and ass though. With jeans, this shirt looks ridiculous. My top part of my body looks small and then you hit my mid-section and, wow, hips and ass. The lower portion of my body seems to be hinting, "Time to make a baby. Use those birthing hips." Me, I just want to tell my body, "Fuck off."

Come on, Irene

2011-08-27T08:24:00.000-05:00

I can't take credit for the clever (at least, I think so) heading. It was one of the team's names from last night's trivia @ Hooters...yes, at Hooters. I think they lowered the intellectual standard for the questions based on the venue. Questions were ridiculously easy. Case in point: Garmin and Tom Tom are brand names for what types of devices?

Anyway, I realize it might be fucked up, but natural disasters excite me. I think I like the fact that there is all this panic and anxiety surrounding their arrival, and there is NOTHING anyone can do to stop the event from proceeding.

We're so used to making alternative plans and having solutions to various complexities. Natural disasters are Mother Nature's resounding cries of "Fuck you!"

Spin Class Thoughts II

2011-08-25T13:11:00.000-05:00

The instructor was a fucking spazz. I guess she thought that the peer pressure route would work to motivate all of us. We were supposed to "pretend" that we were on the open road, on a trek together as a "team." Bullshit. It's times like that that I am so grateful that I do not have the ability to roll my eyes...

At one point she said, actually screeched, "Keep up with us! Don't screw this up for everyone!" I guess that was supposed to motivate all of us---kind of like, "Come on, we don't want anyone left behind." All I could think in my mind was that if we really were on an open road together, I would have gotten off the bike by now and hitch hiked.

There were a few points during the class that I muttered the word "Fuck"--- 5 times. If I ever try spin again, I will strive to say "Fuck" less than 5 times...that's the true assessment of whether or not I am improving in a gym class...

Toward the end of the class, the instructor said, "Two songs left, two songs!" (She lied!!! It was three songs). When she said that there were two songs left, I was at the point of exhaustion. Bear in mind, I was at Michelle level of exhaustion...which means I could have totally gone for another hour or so. "Work hard, play hard" is a common phrase I hear. It doesn't apply to me when it comes to the gym though... I think I deserve utmost credit just for getting my ass there in the first place.

My spin fairy godmother must have been looking down on me and must have seen my levels of "exhaustion." For the second to last song, I suddenly heard the speakers blaring: "Yeah, can you feel it baby? I can too." Marky Mark!!!!! I got my ass back up into the "pretend you're going uphill" position and kept working through the entire song. When the last song came on, however, I slooooowed down. It was a shitty song:(

Another pinnacle of the spin was when I "lost" my keys. There was a quick resolution though. I had forgotten that in order to get the ticket for the step class, you had to hand in your keys....

I think the likelihood of me doing spin again is about 50%. I know I am lazy with working out and that during spin class I didn't "challenge myself"--- but the stream of consciousness in my mind was amazing!!!

Spin Class Thoughts

2011-08-23T12:56:00.000-05:00

This morning, motivated by the bathroom renovation and lack of shower facilities, I went to the gym. When I got there, I saw a montage of shiny spandex leggings and sports bras. I realize that those clothing items are not rare for a gym, but they just seemed to be in particular excess today.

I looked at the schedule and saw that spin class was scheduled for 9:30. It was 9:15...

Typically, gym classes never work out too well for me. While I generally will stay for the entire class time, most within the allotted hour or so, I utter "Fuck" several times, take mini-breaks (when everyone else is working their asses off), and generally think about anything possible OTHER than focusing on the exercise in the moment.

I have always wanted to try spin, but I've seen the "spinners" post-class. Their faces are beet-red and they are literally dripping with sweat. Those looks of complete fatigue might intrigue other exercisers, but not me. Still, I decided to give it a try.

I took the bike directly in the back of the room. Two "moms" helped me with the whole bike set up; they were also swathed in shiny spandex.

As the class began, the lights went out and purplish black lights went on. I guess you're supposed to be in the zone, but my spot in the back of the room distracted me. I was half-bathed in black lights, and half-bathed in the regular light of the gym. I spotted a hot guy on the treadmill and kept looking to my right to check him out.

The most interesting thing about spin (or any form of exercise, for that matter) is that it brings out the ADD in me. At home, I can easily be attentive to a bunch of episodes of a TV show. I can be attentive to a book for a long amount of time too. When it comes to exercise though, I have ADD. There could be music in the background and a TV monitor in front of me. I'll still move my head around the room in a circular manner, looking at people, even looking at the various ceiling fixtures.

Unsurprisingly, during the "spin zone," my mind was focused on anything but the actual exercise. The instructor said, "Feel like you're on the open road. Feel your bike hitting the pavement. Connect." In my head, I thought, "Agh. We're cycling, IN PLACE, on wooden floor boards painted black. Connect with what?"

All I could think during spin class was that I wished I had a notebook and pen with me so that I could write down all the thoughts circling through my mind...

Lazy Day

2011-08-19T17:11:00.000-05:00

Our bathroom has officially been demolished. Layers of pink tile, mesh wire, and thick concrete have been smashed to pieces. Sheetrock has been removed to reveal dingy pink insulation. A light fixture has been removed and the remaining wires dangle haphazardly from the pseudo-ceiling. Water has been drained from the toilet and bits of rubble are scattered in the bath tub.

I feel like I am in an episode of Hoarders. The people on that show always have unusable bathrooms.

We do, however, have the "1/2 bathroom" in our bedroom to use (toilet only---sexy!).

To shower, we can go over Jen's apartment or John's parents' house or...my amazing idea... shower at the gym. It reminds me of the song "YMCA": "You can get yourself clean..." Fuck! John goes to the gym daily, so it is logical for him to take a quick shower there. It is not as logical for me. I haven't been to the gym that much recently. Basically, our unusable shower will be the catalyst to get me to work out at the gym again.

Taking a shower there freaks me out though. Remember, this is the girl who NEVER changed in front of anyone in the locker room, opting instead to stand in a tiny bathroom stall and change into her gym clothes for high school PE class. The showers at the gym are individual stalls with glass doors and discreet curtains. I've changed in the stalls before but the idea of showering there makes me paranoid. I've had this semi-fear for most of my life---a fear that someone is video taping me. Damn Lifetime movie Video Voyeur!!!

Conveniently, it is now raining outside... What is crazier? Not showering at the gym for fear of being videotaped or standing outside in my bathing suit and lathering myself up with a body pouf and body wash while the rain trickles down on me?

Hoarders: The Trunk Version

2011-08-07T14:55:00.000-05:00

My car has always been more of an abyss than an automobile. A few weeks ago, I cleaned out the interior of the car, unveiling such treasures as Christmas ornaments (6+ months too late), fake police accessories (from Labor Day dress up theme at karaoke), and mix tapes with such names as "Radio Mix: Volume I." Odd things seem to find their way into my car.

The trunk of the car has always been filled and was filled even moreso when we moved. As soon as we moved, some of the things in the trunk were cleaned out and moved into the house. However, as I found out today, I don't just have "junk in my trunk"---I have a tendency to HOARD in the trunk of my car.

Tonight is Midsummer Night's Dream theme at karaoke and I have been looking all over the house for this 10 pack of crafting butterflies that I have... I know they are somewhere. I decided to look in the trunk for them, but the search was to no avail.

I found tons of other miscellaneous things in the trunk though. Basically, searching through my car's trunk could be considered a form of entertainment. Some of the "finds":

****Animal Farm (an illustrated children's picture book that I wrote in 7th gr...no, I wasn't trying to make some witty statement on Orwell...the book was literally about a farm and its animals)
**** a size 22 Geisha girl costume (the ONE and ONLY Halloween that John said he would dress up was when he chose a plus-sized Geisha girl costume...my grandmother passed away that Halloween and the costume was never worn)
****Halloween make-up (the receipt for the makeup was dated 2005--this was probably the makeup John was going to wear with the Geisha girl outfit)
****a statuette of a duck in a ballerina/bumblebee outfit)
***ridiculous thick winter tube socks (a gift from my mother---wtf!)
***a Louisville slugger baseball bat
***pom poms (they were actually used once---for karaoke-ing to "Let's Hear it for the Boy"
***a dragonfly/hippie-esque window decal most likely from college (I graduated in 2002!)

I do have end-of-summer aspirations of cleaning out that trunk...some of the things I have are just ridiculous and, honestly, if they have been in the trunk for 6 years (like the makeup), perhaps they are unusable and/or I do not need them. I must remember the A & E Hoarders creed: throw it out if it is worthless, hazardous, or unsanitary:)

Don't know why

2011-07-18T09:28:00.000-05:00

There's something enchanting about the actions of little children and their impulsiveness...and mindlessness.

I suddenly think about the the image of children steadfastly building a sandcastle--- carefully molding tiers of the castle with various sized pails and buckets; using their delicate hands to create moats and other passageways; and embellishing the castle with small pebbles and seashells. After all of that work is complete, the children energetically stand up, stare at the castle for a moment or two, and either walk away or quickly jump on it, watching the grains of sand crumble down.

Today's weather report calls for the possibility of small hail and lightning. It got me thinking to something that I did as a child. The occurrence I am recalling actually only happened once. The sky tossed down small pieces of hall and I ran outside, with a large plastic cup. I left the plastic cup on the driveway and quickly ran back into the house for safety. After the pellets of hail pounded down on the pavement and the storm had dissipated, I ran outside and gathered the cup. Then, I placed the cup in the freezer. Placing the cup in the freezer makes sense but the "why" behind gathering hail makes no sense... but I guess that it doesn't have to make sense.

We spend so much of our adult lives thinking about doing the "right thing" or the "practical thing;" it is comforting to do something nonsensical every once in awhile.

investigator

2011-06-19T14:27:00.001-05:00

I am astoundingly good at tracking down people either online (through search engines like Google) or in real-life time (through a phenomenal memory of names, places etc). I probably would be really adept at any job involving research.

Yet, I remain a teacher.

There's nothing wrong with me being a teacher, but I do know deep down (actually, I don't have to explore too far into myself to know...) that I could be doing another job significantly better...or that I could be teaching another grade level and challenging myself to a greater extent. No, though. I get my contract every year, glance at it, and promptly sign it.

There are some facets of my life in which I am a "risk taker." For the most part though, I just stay firmly planted on the same path. My pessimism is to blame. I think about possibilities, but then discount those possibilities when I think of everything that could go wrong.

At times, my ability to track down people can only lead to my own further detriment. If I find out information about somebody from my past and it is "positive" information (i.e. wealth status, educational progresses, career accomplishments, I suddenly am brought completely down. I wouldn't necessarily call it jealousy. Rather, the feeling is moreso a complete plummeting of my motivation. I just assume that I can't attain whatever the other person has attained.

I've always said that I wish there were some type of motivation pill. Too many times, I just visualize failure in my mind and then decide not to start the task because---hey---why start it if failure is a possibility? It's a really shitty mindset to have and I don't know how to get rid of it.

In the meantime, maybe I should stop trying to "research" and "track" people down... but every so often superficiality comes into play and I smile at the fruits of my research: i.e. a previous friend or acquaintance from high school who is now extremely overweight. It's so petty, I know....

Silver Alert

2011-05-31T16:42:00.000-05:00

For some reason, I am highly amused whenever I see illuminated "Silver Alert" signs on highways.

Whenever I see a Silver Alert posting, I just imagine an elderly person who has suddenly gotten out of his cognitive debilitated state and realized, "Fuck! There's a whole world out there to explore." I imagine the person walking jauntily to his car (most likely a mid90s Honda Accord with barely any miles on it), starting the car engine, and quickly zigzagging down a curvy highway.

Maybe all of the Silver Alert individuals reach a point when they just need to escape-- escape the monotonous flowery wall coverings and superficial kindness at nursing homes--- and they're off at some secret location, having mint juleps and Tom Collins drinks and watching reruns of Green Acres....

The grass is always greener on the other side

2011-05-08T11:52:00.000-05:00

Agh. If I could back in time to two years ago, I have no idea what forces could have been powerful enough to persuade John and me to buy a house. Any friends or co-workers who revel in the idea of their future home get a response from me of "Don't do it! Want to buy mine? You can have it!"

American dream with home ownership is bullshit. I probably have posted about this before. Guaranteed.

Our apartment in Parsippany was cluttered and now our house is cluttered... I clearly will never be Ms. Domestic and actually don't really care too much about my lack of domesticity.

I think of all the extra money we would have if we had the apartment again. I'd make sure we went on trips and, blissfully, pissed away quite a bit of our money. Now, our money goes to sewer bills, higher electric bills, property taxes, etc. Our yard looks like shit and I don't care. The grass is truly greener on the "other side"-- ours is barely existent and its growth is stunted by stubborn moss, infertile soil, and persistent weeds.

But we do have tons of cilantro sprouting up. That's a positive. And our hastas managed to re-bloom...or...re-grow...whatever the term is.

He'll always be Marky Mark to me

2011-03-13T15:19:00.000-05:00

I know that "Mark Wahlberg" has tried hard to overcome his 1990s simultaneous stint as hot Calvin Klein underwear model and one hit wonder. He's kept the Boston accent (which to me, is attractive but unintelligent-sounding at the same time) and starred in various movies, trying to break away from guy-with-awesome-abs role....with the exception of Boogie Nights.

Yesterday at the gym, I saw portions of a movie which featured Mark Wahlberg in a small role but, immediately upon seeing him, I wanted to shout, "Marky Mark" at the screen.

I don't really know the whole plot of Date Night because I had my headphones on while it was playing in the gym's cinema room. There's a few scenes that feature a shirtless Mark Wahlberg, amidst an impressive, penthouse-style apartment.

It's funny how some people will always stay a certain way in your mind....

Anorexia and 2nd grade

2011-03-06T09:43:00.000-05:00

It's raining steadily outside and, in the kitchen, I began singing "Rainy Days and Mondays" by the Carpenters...a pretty normal inclination on a rainy day, I'd say.

Immediately, I was pretty shocked at how many of the lyrics I actually remembered. Also, I thought about how stupid some of the lyrics are. One case in point is: "walking around/some kind of lonely clown/rainy days and Mondays always get me down." Lonely clown? Surely, there was another word that could have fit the rhyme scheme.

Whenever I sing the Carpenters or hear them on the radio, I am instantly transported back to 2nd grade. I was in Ohio, visiting my grandmother. This was the age of AWESOME prime time made-for-tv movies. I know those type of movies still exist, but they just seem to suck now. The one I recall was a biopic about the Carpenters. As an 8 year old, I was totally freaked out by the images of Karen Carpenter (actress version) being skin-and-bones-gaunt. As a perpetual "fat kid," the idea of someone voluntarily starving herself made no sense to me. Not eat? By choice? What the hell?

I only saw the movie once, but it stuck with me. Whenever the topic of anorexia arises (um...not too often), I think of that made-for-tv-movie. I've often thought about watching it again, but who knows...it probably would seem to cheesy and outdated now that its significance would quickly vanish.

The Amy Fisher made-for-tv-movies are another story....despite the "serious" story behind them, they were, frankly, hilarious---some of the best comedies of the 90s....

Vampire house

2011-02-22T16:15:00.000-05:00

When you're amidst the house-buying process, there's things that you overlook. When we got this house, we considered its location to be a decent plot of land with adequate space. In northern NJ, "adequate space" is the norm. If you have more than adequate space, your income is probably very impressive.

We moved in during the summer. As the summer months passed, we jubilated at how "cool" the house would be, even on the hottest summer days. We'd still have to put on the air conditioning, but it just seemed like the house stayed cool pretty well.

Fast forward to winter. I live in a vampire house. Shards of sunlight never really creep into the house. There's not one particular room that is very bright during the daytime. When the snow on other houses' roofs had melted, our roof snow piles were persisting. Needless to say, the "coolness" of summer that we enjoyed has persisted into the winter months in our home.

Filling the oil tank is crazy-expensive, so we keep the temperature down in the house. I don't recall what 60 degrees feels like. John makes jokes about us living on the ice plant of Hath, a Star Wars reference. I drink copious amounts of tea to trick my body into feeling like the house is warmer than it is. We wear tons of layers of clothing and snuggle tightly in bed.

Owning a house is totally not what I thought it would be. And I guess the realtors revel in people like John and me. If everyone had an immediate sense of "reality in a home," no houses would ever sell.

With the recent talk of crazy oil and gas prices, government's desire to gradually get rid of unions, and so on... I just feel like the American dream is a sham.

V-day

2011-02-13T18:03:00.000-05:00

I do think that Valentine's Day is a bit silly. Don't get me wrong---if John showed up at work and gave me flowers or if I woke up and there was a fancy breakfast all arranged (i.e. NOT our usual Egg Beaters or oatmeal), I'd have a wide smile across my face. But all these commercials : "Get her what she really wants this Valentine's Day," and blah, blah, blah,...I just think they're silly.

I wouldn't say that I am jaded...definitely not. I just don't think the roses, chocolate, overabundance of red, is all that necessary.

In earlier years, when John and I were first dating, Valentine's Day had a little more "kick" to it. We never did the typical thing anyway though.

Our "tradition" is going out to dinner...but going out for Indian buffet. There's so many Indian restaurants in Morris County that they never get crowded, even on Valentine's Day night. So...gluttony...with heavily creamed foods...if that's not romantic, then I don't know what is :-)

Possibilities

2011-02-06T11:39:00.000-05:00

I didn't want to be this person, but I find myself spending a LOT of time online. If you asked me to take note of my activities, they could be summed up easily: small amounts of emailing, playing Bookworm, checking PostSecret updates on Sunday mornings, checking work emails, and going onto Facebook. The crazy winter weather of this year has "motivated" me to spend pathetic amounts of time on Farmville. For the most part though, I just log in and out constantly, checking others' updates.

I've checked up on people from high school. Even if the profile is private, the photo tells so much. Picture of a belly that is burgeoning... a "little bundle of joy" on the way. Photo of more than just a man and woman: family already created and "in process." And so on.

I've contemplated deactivating my account for awhile but....uh....no.

The online world is an amazing world of possibilities and ...chances to unmotivate yourself. If you're an aspiring anything, you can find a site that caters to your passion, create a profile, and put yourself out there. I could easily go to a poetry site, put my work out there, and feel like I was engaging with other people. Instead, I just look at others' profiles and just kind of downplay any skills that I have.

I guess it comes back to the "half empty/ half full" debate. Unsurprisingly, I am on the half-empty end of the spectrum. And yes, I hide behind the reasoning of "I'm a realist." I'd like to move over to the half-full time soon... not expecting a huge, mega shift...a gradual one would be welcome though.

Building a Fire in the Snow

2011-01-09T16:16:00.000-05:00

In the words of my sister, some people are simply "wackjobs."

Just got a call from my friend. Fiery red hair, pale blue eyes, thin and lanky body--- someone whose presence does command your attention.

She left a voicemail on my phone: "I'm going to go outside and make a fire in the snow. I thought it would be kind of neat. Do you and John want to come over?"

Instantly, I was reminded of the Jack London short story, "To Build a Fire." I recall a middle school teacher using that story to illustrate short story elements. The man in the story struggled with building a fire and keeping it alive. Every time it seemed like survival was existent, the damn fire would go out.

I forget how it ended. Since it was written by Jack London and is a story that is "heavy" with elements of nature, I am guessing that it didn't end with a storybook ending. The protagonist probably just froze to death in the snow.

Anyway, why anyone who is NOT stranded in the wilderness would want to go outside and build a fire, "just for fun," is beyond me.

Lesson plans seemed like a horrible way to end this weekend. In comparison to sitting outside in 26 degree weather and challenging myself with creating a fire...well....I'll take the lesson plans, thank you very much.

Lofty goals

2010-11-28T18:00:00.000-05:00

I am ADEPT at coming up with ideas and doing the preparation. Execution, however, is not my forte.

Case in point: in the summer, I had this "great" idea to use beer bottle caps to make tacky wreaths and photo frames. The tackiness level could be brought to the next degree with, specifically, green Heineken and red Budweiser caps; using those bottle caps could create the ultimate festive wreath.

Through Freecycle, I had one main bottle cap "connection"--yes, networking for bottle caps--hilarious. She knew someone who worked at Applebee's and that person got the bartenders on staff to save tons of bottle caps for me. I just picked them up today and filled a giant shoe box and small shopping bag with the bottle caps. I have no idea how many I have, but I have the urge to count all of them, just out of curiosity.

I bought the crafting supplies: copious amounts of glue sticks, plain wooden frames, ornament balls, mini-wreaths, etc.

It's almost like the planning is more exciting than the actual execution....

Mindless lists

2010-11-21T14:35:00.002-05:00

I hate giving in to "top" lists and such, but I saw this list on someone else's blog and thought it was semi-interesting...interesting enough to consume 5 minutes or so and re-post it to my blog....

Got this from http://littleturkishgirl.blogspot.com/

Have you read more than 6 of these books? The BBC believes most people will have read only 6 of the 100 books listed here.

Instructions: Copy this. Bold those books you've read in their entirety, italicize the ones you started but didn't finish or read an excerpt. Tag other book nerds. Tag me as well so I can see your responses!

1 Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen (it was either this book or Jane Eyre- I read 90 pages in "one shot" and then stopped...)
2 The Lord of the Rings - JRR Tolkien
3 Jane Eyre - Charlotte Bronte (see note for #1...I detested these types of books in high school...might appreciate them more now)4 Harry Potter series - JK Rowling (got 100 or so pages into the first book and wasn't interested...all I recall is a passage about jelly beans)
5 To Kill a Mockingbird - Harper Lee (read it!)
6 The Bible - Too Many Cooks
7 Wuthering Heights - Emily Bronte
8 Nineteen Eighty Four - George Orwell
9 His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman
10 Great Expectations - Charles Dickens (read it back in 9th grade- recall being so bored with it that I actually fell asleep while reading it one night; would like to re-visit it sometime soon though)
11 Little Women - Louisa M Alcott
12 Tess of the D’Urbervilles - Thomas Hardy
13 Catch 22 - Joseph Heller14 Complete Works of Shakespeare (complete? Geez...the list is really from the BBC, I guess... Have read Tempest, Titus Andronicus, Taming of the Shrew, Romeo and Juliet, and some others...but not "complete works")
15 Rebecca - Daphne Du Maurier
16 The Hobbit - JRR Tolkien
17 Birdsong - Sebastian Faulk18 Catcher in the Rye - JD Salinger
19 The Time Traveler’s Wife - Audrey Niffenegger
20 Middlemarch - George Eliot
21 Gone With The Wind - Margaret Mitchell22 The Great Gatsby - F Scott Fitzgerald
23 Bleak House - Charles Dickens
24 War and Peace - Leo Tolstoy
25 The Hitch Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy - Douglas Adams
27 Crime and Punishment - Fyodor Dostoevsky28 Grapes of Wrath - John Steinbeck29 Alice in Wonderland - Lewis Carroll
30 The Wind in the Willows - Kenneth Grahame
31 Anna Karenina - Leo Tolstoy
32 David Copperfield - Charles Dickens33 Chronicles of Narnia - CS Lewis
34 Emma - Jane Austen
35 Persuasion - Jane Austen36 The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe - CS Lewis
37 The Kite Runner - Khaled Hosseini
38 Captain Corelli’s Mandolin - Louis De Bernieres
39 Memoirs of a Geisha - Arthur Golden
40 Winnie the Pooh - AA Milne
41 Animal Farm - George Orwell
42 The Da Vinci Code - Dan Brown Davinci Code... why is it on this "list"?
43 One Hundred Years of Solitude - Gabriel Garcia Marquez
44 A Prayer for Owen Meaney - John Irving
45 The Woman in White - Wilkie Collins
46 Anne of Green Gables - LM Montgomery
47 Far From The Madding Crowd - Thomas Hardy
48 The Handmaid’s Tale - Margaret Atwood49 Lord of the Flies - William Golding
50 Atonement - Ian McEwanhalf-bolded because I made it halfway through:)
51 Life of Pi - Yann Martel
52 Dune - Frank Herbert X
53 Cold Comfort Farm - Stella Gibbons
54 Sense and Sensibility - Jane Austen
55 A Suitable Boy - Vikram Seth
56 The Shadow of the Wind - Carlos Ruiz Zafon
57 A Tale Of Two Cities - Charles Dickens58 Brave New World - Aldous Huxley
59 The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nighttime - Mark Haddon
60 Love In The Time Of Cholera - Gabriel Garcia Marquez61 Of Mice and Men - John Steinbeck
62 Lolita - Vladimir Nabokov
63 The Secret History - Donna Tartt64 The Lovely Bones - Alice Sebold
65 Count of Monte Cristo - Alexandre Dumas
66 On The Road - Jack Kerouac
67 Jude the Obscure - Thomas Hardy
68 Bridget Jones’s Diary - Helen Fielding
69 Midnight’s Children - Salman Rushdie
70 Moby Dick - Herman Melville
71 Oliver Twist - Charles Dickens
72 Dracula - Bram Stoker
73 The Secret Garden - Frances Hodgson Burnett
74 Notes From A Small Island - Bill Bryson
75 Ulysses - James Joyce76 The Inferno – Dante
77 Swallows and Amazons - Arthur Ransome
78 Germinal - Emile Zola
79 Vanity Fair - William Makepeace Thackeray
80 Possession - AS Byatt
81 A Christmas Carol - Charles Dickens
82 Cloud Atlas - David Mitchell
83 The Color Purple - Alice Walker
84 The Remains of the Day - Kazuo Ishiguro
85 Madame Bovary - Gustave Flaubert
86 A Fine Balance - Rohinton Mistry87 Charlotte’s Web - EB White
88 The Five People You Meet In Heaven - Mitch Albom
89 Adventures of Sherlock Holmes - Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
90 The Faraway Tree Collection - Enid Blyton
91 Heart of Darkness - Joseph Conrad
92 The Little Prince - Antoine De Saint-Exupery
93 The Wasp Factory - Iain Banks
94 Watership Down - Richard Adams
95 A Confederacy of Dunces - John Kennedy Toole
96 A Town Like Alice - Nevil Shute
97 The Three Musketeers - Alexandre Dumas
98 Hamlet - William Shakespeare
99 Charlie and the Chocolate Factory - Roald Dahl
100 Les Miserables - Victor Hugo

I think the fact that I haven't read Charlotte's Web or Charlie and the Chocolate Factory is a testament to my screwed-up childhood. Many of the books on this list are ones that I own (Lolita, Time Traveler's Wife, Dracula, Notes from a Small Island), but haven't gotten around to reading yet. I realize that this is just some list (can't say "random," as it was published by BBC), but I can't believe I have only read 9 out of the 100... Have read Christmas Carol but only the play version...that doesn't count since Dickens' version is a novella...

One step forward, one step back, maybe even 2.

2010-11-01T14:23:00.000-05:00

I just can't get a break. Seems like every time there is an improvement in our current "lot in life," there is another thing that comes along that makes you step backward. Case in point: I've been taking tons of tech classes at work and have managed to earn Master's + 30 indistrict credits. I got a pay raise of about $70 a month. In my head, I rationalize, "Wow, that's basically our phone bill. It's almost our whole cable bill. Cool."

Then, we got an updated mortgage bill in the mail the other day. Our mortgage has gone up by about $50 each month. It's so aggravating. I realize John is working part-time and we have less income, but still. It's such a downer that you could have the "decent" joint income of what ours is and still be struggling. When I think about it, my heart starts beating faster. I don't even want to take the time or effort to go outside and rake leaves or "beautify" our house because I am just so pissed off at the cost of things. I know things could be worse, but I also get so focused on how angry I am at the cost of things. They say that buying a house is the American dream but in 2010 (especially in NJ), it really isn't. I worry ahead to when we get John's tuition bill for spring... and that's not even that much, since it is a local college, but still.

I miss the simplicity of apartment life. We always had enough for rent and necessities, plus money for extras.I don't need things to be easy, but I need to be able to take one step ahead and remain in the forward-walking direction.

Halloween Frenzy

2010-10-30T19:47:00.000-05:00

As a kid, I didn't like Halloween. My recollections of childhood Halloweens revolve around the following images: a 2 year-old me in red cowgirl outfit, standing beside my father; having to concoct my own "clown" outfit when Mom was drunk and I had to dress up for Halloween (I wore a green clown wig with her hippie vest from the 1960s); feeling fat and frumpy and wearing large, billowy clothing to be a gypsy in high school; dressing up as a nun (so fucking lame); and dressing up as a baby (the prototypical outfit for teen girls who want to go trick-or-treating but don't want to put effort into a costume).

I think I revel in Halloween as an adult because of those junky childhood memories.

This year, I am being a "provocative" jailbird. I always like the contradiction of my outfits: short skirt with fishnets, but with masculine Doc Martens and black boxer briefs under the skirt since it is so short:) It's like being a slutty tomboy.

I feel kind of crappy this year because I have definitely gained weight the past few months and don't necessarily feel "sexy." I really have to get this eating/portion control situation in order.

I am, however, remaining optimistic and looking ahead---I am already thinking about my costume for next year. For probably the past 4 years, I have yearned to be a mermaid for Halloween. I have searched online and know, by heart, the various color and design offerings from several websites. I want to buy a costume, but tweak it with my own ideas.

Tonight, at the Good Will store and TJ Maxx, I saw TWO mermaid costumes-- one was for a dog and the other was for a little girl. I get that it's Halloween and costumes are abound, but Good Will and TJ Maxx aren't exactly costume headquarters. The mermaid costumes are a sign--- I must be one next year!

Mom and baby costumes...

2010-10-25T21:41:00.000-05:00

I realize that we're in a different generation. Having kids does not mean you have to leave behind all remnants of youth or fun. However, I also think there is something ridiculous about the abundance of moms (and dads too) who dress up to match their small children.

I don't have any strong arguments for my point of view. I just think it's stupid. I have no issue with dressing up a little for Halloween and having fun going trick-or-treating with your little ones (although my feelings on trick-or-treating with babies is also a strong one: I think it's stupid!). When you start coordinating family costumes though, eek... it's a bit much for me.

I'm sure I might change my mind a bit when we have a baby of our own (though I really don't think I will) :)

FML

2010-10-06T21:00:00.000-05:00

I hate when people post FML on Facebook. Inevitably, it is always followed by something that is clearly not an FML situation. An FML situation is a situation that is so dire and, just plain shitty, that you don't have actual time to worry about posting it on Facebook.

Some people post FML in regard to traffic. Um--- we live in NJ---the most densely populated state in the U.S. Fuck population density, maybe...but not your life.

Others post FML in connection to instances like having tons of grad school work to do. Okay-- a majority of people make the choice to go to grad school; most aren't forced into it. If they're making that choice, then they shouldn't complain. I suffered through grad classes and working full-time (all while regressing to an acne-ridden face from the chaos of it all); I survived...and not once did I post FML.

I just think that our society is such a generation ME society. People really need to think about others' situations and, then, they should give mindful thought to whether they are truly in FML situations.

Take me, for example. John and I got married and moved into our first home. Three months later, he quit his job (with my agreement) and decided to go back to school. Now, we have: mortgage payments (almost 3x what our previous apartment rent was), the higher utilities bills that come with houses, and tuition fees. I work full-time and John is only working part-time. The situation sucks. BUT... our relationship is great and even better than ever. We're making our ends meet, month to month. It could be worse. It isn't an FML situation.

I think I am going to start an FPD movement though.

Hilarious

2010-09-27T21:27:00.000-05:00

The women at Weight Watchers crack me up.

Today, I had a weight gain of .8 pounds. "Just a speck," according to the woman who signed me in at the front desk. A speck? It's almost a pound...

The woman at the front desk proceeded to look me over, up and down: "What kind of pants do you have on today?"

I had on light spandex exercise pants... the kind I always wear on weigh-in day. I had no shoes on and a light t-shirt on, like usual. My clothing is the "control" in this weight loss "experiment."

My sister-in-law, upon hearing of my weight gain, asked me, "Did you... you know...go to the bathroom today?"

Hilarious...the excuses that we make for ourselves, and for others.

Nope, ladies. No heavier clothing. No lack of excretion. Just too many slices of pumpkin cake and Italian appetizers at Saturday night's dinner.

On to next week....

Heavy breathing, like Notorious B.I.G.

2010-09-17T17:48:00.000-05:00

I remember when Notorious B.I.G.'s songs came out---my friends and I would laugh at the heavy breathing he produced during the song--clear signs that the man was morbidly obese and, possibly, had binged a cheeseburger, fries, and onion rings during sound checks.

Right now, I have a gigantic ass. I am also breathing heavily when simply walking around or carrying things. I'm just annoyed at how I've "let myself go."

I officially started WW on Monday. Went to the meeting and stepped on the scale of truth. The number was higher than I thought it would be. Some girl at the meeting was basically explaining her way of cheating the points system and making something be less points. Another woman asked, "I just don't know what to do. At night, all I want to do is eat." I had to slightly smile at comments like that. 1] Don't "cheat" the points system.... it's meant for estimations, not total scientific accuracies. 2] Um- don't eat?

I am trying to take things in stride. Went to put on my "big jeans" for work and they were skin tight. Skin tight where you are left with rivet marks from the waist band deeply pressing into your flesh. Whatever. Put on another pair of jeans that were probably too casual for work but oh well.

Am just trying to keep a positive state of mind, which is ridiculously difficult for pessimist me. Think I will make like DJ Tanner in that infamous Full House episode: put pictures of models all over the fridge, snack on ice cubes, and exercise lots... I'll be that episode minus the fainting.

Vocation

2010-09-06T18:51:00.000-05:00

Voc means having to do with the voice. A vocation, as most know it, is a job-- though the word's definition also generally includes the phrase "a calling."

Tomorrow is the first day of school. Agh. At times, I wish summer vacation was less time or that I could find a "summer job" that would pay decent and be "fun." When it comes down to it, not working for two months makes it extremely difficult on the eventual evening before you go back to work.

I have to do seating charts, make some cut-outs for the bulletin board, and do some other mundane tasks. I've stayed in all day and basically done nothing except eat exorbitant amounts of food and flip-flopped through the various marathons on TV: 90210, Housewives of NJ, and The Office.

Of course, part of me is nervous about tomorrow morning--- the first impressions the students will form about me, especially.

Many times, people have asked me (students and adults) whether I think you need to be smart to be a teacher. While intelligence is a factor, when you get down to it, you just have to be a few steps in front of the students. Not exactly genius work, especially at middle school or primary school level.

At this stage in the teaching game, I feel like confidence can make you rise above any missing intellectual components. Act like you know and act like you are spectacular at what you do and people, notably 13 year olds, fall for it.

I feel like I am the other way around--I have the intelligence part down-pat but am lacking the confidence part---which makes going back to work tomorrow even more challenging. Nothing I will do with my classes tomorrow will be particularly deep or thought-provoking. I just need the confidence. Argh.

As thoughts are swirling around me about the idea of going "back to work," the following poem aptly arrived in my inbox as poem of the day.

Vocation
by Sandra Beasley

For six months I dealt Baccarat in a casino.
For six months I played Brahms in a mall.
For six months I arranged museum dioramas;
my hands were too small for the Paleolithic
and when they reassigned me to lichens, I quit.
I type ninety-one words per minute, all of them Help. Yes, I speak Dewey Decimal.
I speak Russian, Latin, a smattering of Tlingit.
I can balance seven dinner plates on my arm.
All I want to do is sit on a veranda while
a hard rain falls around me. I'll file your 1099s.
I'll make love to strangers of your choice.
I'll do whatever you want, as long as I can do it
on that veranda. If it calls you, it's your calling,
right? Once I asked a broker what he loved
about his job, and he said Making a killing.
Once I asked a serial killer what made him
get up in the morning, and he said The people.

The kind of morning I like

2010-09-04T09:09:00.000-05:00

I haven't been outside yet, so who knows---it could be humid and uncomfortable. I am loving the weather from inside the house though. Am sitting in the computer room with nothing but the windows to light the room. The blinds are half open. I can hear the breeze shake the trees intermittently. Spots of light and shadow are entering the window, then exiting. It's supposed to be in the 70s today. In my opinion, it's a perfect day.

"I'm a Weight Watcher!"

2010-09-01T22:05:00.000-05:00

When I used to be on Weight Watchers (officially, as in going to the meetings and beaming over stupid incentives like bookmarks celebrating weight loss), I made up this 4-word jingle that basically copied the "I'm a Wheel Watcher" jingle from the gameshow. Instead, you guessed it, the lines in the jingle were "I'm a Weight Watcher."

Well, I guess I can sing that song again--starting this evening.

I have decided to rejoin Weight Watchers, meetings and all. I haven't stepped on a scale in ages but clothing says enough--- went to go put on my "loose" nice jeans for work and they were skin tight on me... like skin tight as in how Suzanne Somers wore her jeans on Three's Company. This was not a SEXY tight either.

Clothing tells enough. I don't need to step on a scale. I also don't want to step on a scale-- because I know the number will be high--the highest it has been in what I can truthfully say is YEARS.

I am trying to get too negative. Afterall, I am not 300 pounds or at the point of necessary gastric bypass (though I would welcome that "easy" weight loss-- haha). I'm just aggravated at myself. I got to such a good point over a year and a half ago and now I screwed it all up.

I used to say my total weight loss goal would be to get to 137. Screw that. For the timebeing, I just want my typically loose jeans to be loose:) Onward and upward (except for the #s on the scale)...

10 days in the shoes of Morgan Spurlock

2010-08-30T10:22:00.000-05:00

I think I am still feeling residual effects from our Midwest Tour de Fat. Since we have gotten back from the trip, I've just been sitting around, basically doing nothing. Should really go to the gym and plan on actually getting there today. I know I just have to get back to improved eating habits but I feel, as the saying goes, "like a bump on a log."

Right now I am thinking of how, in Supersize Me, Morgan Spurlock gets his medical checkup (after nearly a month of consuming McDonald's) and his cholesterol, heart rate, etc are dreadful. I feel the same.

I don't know how people can eat like this all the time. I just feel like shit :) In fact, I don't know how I ate like this in high school. I used to always eat Mcdonald's, Burger King, etc. Guess that's why I had to wear guys' clothing for most of my high school life (could never find my size in regular stores for girls).

Gluttony goes hand in hand with another "g" word: guilt.

Left to my own ideas

2010-08-27T14:08:00.000-05:00

So I couldn't think of anything to write and googled "blog post ideas." I got a bunch of stupid ideas:) Even beyond stupid, a lot of them seemed pretentious...like I should post under the assumption that I have a huge following or something. Lame.

Instead I am left on my own to come up with ideas.

We're back from the Midwest trip. I loved Wisconsin. Granted, we were in Wisconsin during the most beautiful time of the year but still-- could winter be that bad?

Along the trip, there were definite laugh-out-loud points. Just a sampling of them:

**When we were touring the Miller Brewery, the guy in front of us had on a bowling-style shirt that said ROTTING FLESH on the back, yellow letters against a black background. Badass. Haha.

**Also on the brewery tour, we saw some guy fondling a cigar in his hand. Seriously. He had the cigar, unlit, resting between his fingers.

**This girl was leaving, Culver's, a popular fast food restaurant. She was, and I say this truthfully, huge. She had on a light blue t-shirt, speckled with bleach stains. Maybe a Pollock fan? :) She also had on cotton shorts that clearly had an elasticized waist. Upon reaching into the backseats on her caravan, the shirt went up, the shorts went down, and... ass was seen. Hilarious.

**At this metal show we went to, we saw this guy that clearly needed other people's validation. He did that hand gesture, the one that means "Rock on" or something like that. While doing the gesture, he looked around him and kind of shook his head in an affirmative way--seeking someone else to agree with him that the music was "badass." He had a portion of his hair that was spiked and dyed red. He had on: a Rolling Stone tee, jeans with large ass pockets, bright white sneakers, a silver studded belt (think 8th graders shopping at Hot Topic), a skull bandana twisted around his wrist, a red studded-like bracelet, and painted nails. I am not making any of these details up. He was hilarious.

Good times.

Midwest thoughts

2010-08-21T20:06:00.001-05:00

Almost [approximately] 10 years ago, John and me embarked on our East coast roadtrip.Over the course of 4 weeks, maybe even more, we traveled down I-95 and made our way to Florida. We stopped along the way in: Baltimore, some very urban place in DC/Virginia whose hotel featured a "drug watch jurisdiction" sign, Outer Banks, Savannah, Charleston, Daytona Beach, Miami, Orlando, and finally made it to Key West.

Right now we are halfway through our Midwest roadtrip. Drove 14 hours the first day and made it to Chicago. Wandered 'round Wrigleyville area of Chicago. Moved on to Milwaukee (parked astoundingly far from places that has ridiculously close parking spots---we assume every place is like NYC: "Stop! Take the parking spot as soon as you see it.").Next was Mall of America (fun, but we were hoping it would be like a little town-- a place where you could sleep and everything--instead it was tourist mecca). We then turned around and made it back to Appleton to visit John's friend.

Being out here makes me think of possibilities of moving. The houses are reasonably priced and if I moved out here I'd feel like I was making money and not just giving the entire paycheck to the mortgage company.People say you make more $ in NJ and that's true, but it's mainly only true for those upper level business jobs. Plus, the house prices are exponentially cheaper... you'd make out in the end by moving here.

There's so much green too. On the highway, we saw what I could honestly say were verdant tracts of land. Tons of wildflowers growing on roadsides. Plenty of horses and cows to see. There's lot of state and county parks and just general kindess. It's the type of place in which I would want to have John and I raise a family.

Moving would not happen for AWHILE but it's something wonderful to keep in the back [but not too far back] part of my mind.

STFU

2010-08-15T08:22:00.000-05:00

Agh. Facebook status posts aro so annoying and self-indulgent. I don't need to hear about someone's amazing vacation or read some lameass post that praises the "aesthetics" of artwork at the Tate Museum.

This one really makes me roll my eyes: 1 year ago today I married my best friend, today I get to look forward to spending an entire lifetime together!

Half the time, when I read facebook status updates I am either thinking to myself "shut the fuck up" or "get a fucking life." Yes, i realize one could argue that the second thought could easily be said to me, in terms of the abundant amount of time I spend reading the stupid status updates in the first place.

I feel that sites like Facebook are places where people can just gloat about the wonderful, amazing, fill in the blank here with any lameass adjective you'd see on sticker that an elementary school teacher would hand out, things going on in their lives. Equally annoying is when people are like "There's a long line at the DMV--- fml." Really? Fuck your life because you're waiting on a long line somewhere...?

When I am away from the computer, it generally "does me good." Although I miss it, it is so completely refreshing to go about my day and just get things done. I like situations where I am forced to be without technologies, for temporary amounts of time.

I've made an oath to myself to not post self-indulgent things....though I am not really a self-indulgent kind of person anyway, when it comes to comments I make in everyday life. I like to avoid the spotlight being on me... because there's over 6.5 billion other people in the world.

Mixed Sky

2010-08-13T16:51:00.001-05:00

Love the sky outside right now. There's still a trace of blue jutting through the rest of the sky, white and grey. There's dark clouds overhead but the sky still looks indecisive---not sure if it will rain, downpour, or just stay stagnant.

For years, I've quite enjoyed weather reports of epic proportions. Whenever there's a hurricane or earthquake [not in Jersey, of course], I stay near the television and constantly tune in to hear about the latest progression. Somehow I feel that my enthusiasm for natural disasters would significantly decrease if I lived in an area that actually had natural disasters.

Natural disasters are to the Weather Channel what Britney Spears breakdowns are to Perez Hilton--- a godsend.

The forecast for tonight is pretty bland: a mix of clouds and sun. Tomorrow, it will be "generally sunny." Sunday, just about the same. Monday has a chance for scattered thunderstorms---that makes me smile. I love the sudden sound of thunder crashing, the darkened skies, and the occasional lightning bolt being the only thing that illuminates your daylight bedroom.

Behind

2010-08-12T16:35:00.002-05:00

I know I say nothing original when I talk about how I can't "get ahead" no matter what. John and I have met many people our age who basically are idiots but who are, economically, quite a bit ahead of us. So basically intelligence does not necessarily equate to money. It's kind of a depressing thought. I mean, I don't care about money that much but it pisses me off that a stupid person could be ahead of me:) I realize that's a very conceited kind of thing to say. Oh well.

Things just annoy me. Today we paid $550 for John to get his car fixed. Then, we paid $2200 for his fall tuition bill. Both payments are for things we need and it's not like they're lavish purchases...but maybe that's part of the problem. I don't have a need for lavish purchases but it would be comforting to know that I had extra money in the bank to make said lavish purchases if I wanted to.

I really don't know what I'd do with exorbitant amounts of money in the bank though. Maybe buy some pairs of Betsey Johnson earrings. Buy some new Birks. Buy high quality shampoo and hair products. That's about it. I'm sure I'd figure it out if extra income suddenly came my way.

"Don't be so judgemental; not everyone is from Beverly Hills"

2010-07-26T11:25:00.005-05:00

Oh, David Silver...such a sage.

It's amazing how watching an hour rerun of a show from your adolescence can bring back a flood of memories.

Soapnet is having reruns of Beverly Hills 90210... they're episodes of the college years... Makes me instantly think of how I loved this show during middle school and high school. I truly liked it during middle school (because I was dumb and actually thought the show was entertaining). I continued to like the show during high school (because I felt bad "abandoning" it).

I remember having a white tshirt with 90210 written in purple, brandon walsh standing to the left side of the nine--I proudly wore this shirt, even though I usually detest white tshirts! I remember naming my lameass pet hermit crab "Austin," after Brian Austin Green. I remember how the plotlines became more ridiculous as time continued, but i just continued watching because, who knows, maybe the show could have improved...kind of similar to my thinking when I continued watching Saved by the Bell even though the college years were ridiculous....

Even when the plotlines reached hilarity (David's drug problem, Dylan wife "Toni" getting shot, Nat having a heart attack) I still watched the show. What's wonderful is that even as you get older and times change, when you watch these shows, they truly do instantly bring you back in time. I guess every generation assumes that their generation is the best but I can't imagine today's young generation having such affinity for current shows in the future... reality shows don't really hold up as well as lame pseudo-soaps...

Track 2, Love is a Mix Tape EP

2010-07-16T12:31:00.002-05:00

Mike... boyfriend #2. We met on Yahoo Personals--I realize that meeting every person you've dated via online means seems quite lame and pathetic. Whatever:)

Mike and I had absolutely nothing in common. His music collection consisted of Christian bands like Jars of Clay, Weird Al's discography, and Billy Joel albums. When I played the Cranberries for him, he seemed entranced.

He was a Baptist, very much into Nascar, was interested in fixing up his Chevy Blazer and El Camino, and was not against wearing jeans cut into shorts. The twilight zone of dating for me.

We only stayed with each other for the summer and I broke up with him through AOL messaging.

Funny, the thing I liked most about him were the Cehvy Blazer and the El Camino. The Chevy Blazer had the backseats torn out and had gigantic tires. I remember being impressed when Mike hopped these huge curbs behind the old Mace Furniture and we made out. Hopping curbs with a S?UV-- these are the things that reel in women:) The El Camino was purple and had a dirty back windshield-- through the dust, you could decipher remnants of his ex: "Lisa <3s Mike." It always fascinated me that he was so maniacal about the mechanics of his car but didn't bother to clean them.

His ex had some reproductive issue and could never get pregnant-- so they had tons of sex without condoms or anything. Mike and I never made it to the sex point anyway.

I think the Baptist faith and enthusiasm over Weird Al made me not go past making out point.

The summer we dated was the summer of Len's one hit wonder, "Steal My Sunshine." -- the song resonates with me as being a cheesy summer hit. When I hear it now, I want to roll my eyes and smile at the same time.

Not surprising, "Steal My Sunshine" was one of Mike's favorite songs...

Track 2: Len's "Steal My Sunshine" .....

La Belle Dame Sans Merci

2010-07-14T21:38:00.008-05:00

Love is a Mix Tape, or EP, selections will be continued soon:) ....

My birthday is in about a week and a half. I've never been the type to want to make a big deal out of my birthday. In fact, I think it's more amusing to participate in festivities when others make big deals out of their birthdays.

I also think that I am one of those people who revels in seeing who actually remembers my birthday. I like to say nothing, mention nothing to anybody, and then see what happens.

John always struggles with what to get me for a gift. He generally waits until the last possible moment, in which he has to use the mall as means for the gift...no online shopping for procrastinators.

Last year, he got me this Vera Bradley purse--- green with large, bold flowers. It was exactly the one I wanted. I ended up returning it though...just never used it.

A few years ago, knowing that I love the color green, he got me a LARGE jade pendant. I returned it for something a little more modest.

This year, I told him I wanted a nice framed print for the bedroom. I gave him a website and wrote down 4 artists' names: Mucha, Waterhouse, Wyeth, and Klimt. I told John to search through the artists and pick a painting that would be good for the bedroom that both of us would like. Not an easy task, I realize. Kind of like a birthday gift/scavenger hunt.

He showed me three paintings that made the "final cut": Klimt's Hygieia, Klimt's Apple Tree 1912, and Waterhouse's La Belle Dame Sans Merci. For each painting, he told me an apt reason for wanting it for us. Hygieia somehow represents male and female, Apple Tree connects to us because apple picking is truly one of the things we look forward to each autumn, and La Belle Dame Sans Merci relates to a phrase he has heard for years---additionally, the painting is of a woman and a knight.

We're going with La Belle Dame Sans Merci. Based on a Keats poem, it actually isn't the most "romantic" of paintings, despite the imagery's conveyance. It's mysterious.

I almost feel like we don't even have to buy the print now---just knowing that he picked that one out is a good gift... we're still buying the framed print:)

"Love is a Mix Tape"

2010-07-09T20:40:00.002-05:00

A few years ago, Rob Sheffield wrote "Love is a Mix Tape." The title alone reeled me in and I purchased the book. Clinging to the awesomeness of the title and the excellence of the cover art (two very stupid, yet influential things), I read on, hoping that the book would get better. I never finished it. Its spine is still prominently featured on my bookshelf though. Can't underestimate the value of glancing at a great title and smiling.

So...I got to thinking about it tonight on my drive home....on 124 west or 24 west...have lived here 10+ years and still get confused.

If I were to make a mix tape of my past loves, what single song would represent each person?

I quickly realized that instead of a list of songs that would compose my mix tape, my list of songs would compose a short EP. There weren't too many past loves, especially if the main technicality is that for someone to be a past love, it has to have been someone with whom I had an actual relationship...

Paul-- high school boyfriend---

We started dating under false premises. Jeff, from our lunch table, told Paul that I liked him. I was in 11th grade and Paul was in 9th grade. I guess an 11th grade girl (even an overweight, acne-ridden girl)liking a 9th grade minion was seen as a something to go after.

Paul immediately asked me out (I didn't know about the whole Jeff thing and thought Paul liked me). Despite not being attracted to him and thinking that we had absolutely nothing in common, I said yes. Another word for yes in situations like these is desperation.

Our first "date" was after school by the bay. We walked on the Ocean Gate boardwalk and sat on the sand. Instantly, Paul lunged forward toward my mouth; all I noticed was his hawk-like nose diving toward me (accurate sight--friends in high school called him "Bird" because of that prominent feature). After he tried kissing me, I replied, "What the fuck were you thinking?"

A bit of a rough start to a relationship...

We dated for 1 1/2 years. It was a "passionate" two years...like the stuff that Sunday night Lifetime movies are made of. Our personalities just didn't click. I yelled all the time; he basically did whatever I told him.

If I had to pick one song to represent this relationship it would be Firehouse's "Sleeping with You." Irony is that in 18 months of dating, we never technically "did it"-- everyone assumed we did but nope...I held out:)

I remember Paul liked an interesting range of music: STP, Alice in Chains, Cannibal Corpse,.... and remnants of his dad's tastes: Firehouse, George Thorogood, Alice Cooper, etc...

He did make me a mix tape once...and I recall it being an odd combination of songs, which is what a mix tape is generally all about.

"Sleeping with You" may be a song that seems to have sexual innuendo in it, but I always thought of it innocently-- as in sleeping beside someone and just enjoying the peace of the moment.

Even though I wouldn't call our relationship perfect, it was my first real relationship and a bunch of other silly, innocent firsts came with it... this song stands out in my mind as track 1, Paul.

......

Happiness Project

2010-07-05T12:18:00.002-05:00

Am reading Gretchin Rubin's book, The Happiness Project, and am thoroughly enjoying it. I like that the author tells it as it is: it's not like she is impoverished, diagnosed with depression, suffering through a divorce, or going through other monumental struggles. Instead, she is just seeking more happiness in her day-to-day life.

While summer is a phenomenally relaxing time for me, I also find that I am very challenged by motivating myself. Most days, I don't wake up until after 10 and don't manage to leave the house until well after 1pm. Leaving the house at 1pm to "start my day" gets me to thinking: if it were a "work day," I would have taught 5 classes by now. I still would have the same amount of "free time" left in my day. In other words, I am starting to feel very unproductive amidst the summer days.

I made a silly to-do list, but with things that actually mean a lot to me, in terms of getting them done. I have joked about turning the ugly 1950s bathroom into "fun, 1950s kitsch," but that has only be imagined, not completed. I've talked about printing my online photos and organizing my photos albums...the print button has not been touched yet. And almost upon our 2 year anniversary, we still have not completed out wedding album!

Not exactly large-scale goals, but things that I should, nevertheless, be able to accomplish quickly....

I also want to start blogging more often. Rubin suggests blogging 6x a week... while it seems like a lot, I just think about the large span of time that can pass when I don't blog often.

Despite the cheesiness factor, I think I might use some blog-writing-prompt sites to help me and truly begin to blog 6x a week.

:)

Downtrodden

2010-05-11T21:53:00.002-05:00

Downtrodden... such a sad word... it's probably a bit extreme for how I feel now, but it's within the general vicinity.

With all of the things Gov. Christie has been proposing and with the various negative comments about teachers from online forums, one can't help but feel downtrodden.

A co-worker and I were talking after school the other day--I was saying how sometimes when I come to work I feel like a sucker, like someone who just is a complete idiot and allows herself to be walked upon. Yes, yes. Healthcare benefits are great. I get a salary increase each year [even if it is ridiculously small in comparison to the LEAP in salary people in other careers make]. I have a pension plan [who knows if NJ will have the $ in place by the time I retire].

I just feel like a sucker because I know other people in different jobs ...mainly tech jobs...who get paid astronomical amounts. They don't necessarily even have a degree in their field, let alone a Master's degree. I "get" that my Master's in Reading doesn't "seem" all too important in the spectrum of the real world. But my day-to-day role and impact on children should count for something. I shouldn't feel like I am struggling to make ends meet while some other person sits in his cozy office job and makes six figures.

People act like "anyone" can teach. They should try it. Maybe they'd change their minds.

Some days I go into work and I just feel like quitting teaching and getting some office job...not that I have qualifications for an actual good office job... I'd just be doing some data entry and be bored beyond description. But sometimes the thought of hiding behind grey cubicle walls is nice....

Then I catch Office Space on some lower grade cable channel and come to my senses.

Looking for that 1/2 empty glass

2009-12-07T23:03:00.002-05:00

Don't know what it is about me, but I look for the fault in every situation.

I recently read an online article that stated the different personality aspects that affect someone's happiness and longevity in life. One factor that negatively impacted happiness and longevity was cynicism.

I am definitely a cynic, always wondering and questioning things...and always assuming the worst.

Cue Russ, the neighbor.

Russ and his wife have a baby girl, one years old...Madeline. I'm sure they default to calling her "Maddie." They have typical family gatherings for things such as Maddie's birthday, christening, etc. Things center on Maddie. Michelle, Russ's wife, rushes into her "required" mode of transport-- a caravan-- each morning. She is a teacher at a local middle school. She happens to be a reading teacher. I know-- coincidences.

Russ is a good-looking guy. Mid 30s. No, probably late 30s. Most likely balding, as he keeps his hair very close shorn. Okay build--- not fat but certainly not hitting the gym too frequently, if ever.

Michelle is a little homely. In the summer, I sometimes would see her wearing loose v-neck tees and cottony capris. I thought I dressed lazily, but apparently I have competition in that area.

Russ does something business-related. He is always dressed nicely. Who knows-- he could sell cars at a Saturn dealership---but somehow I get that taking-train-into-city vibe. Or... just commuting to somewhere like Seacaucus or Jersey City.

He's crazy into his yard. One morning, I saw him watering his lawn at 5:30. Fucking nuts.

He put up Christmas lights last week. Icicle lights dangling from across the roof... a lit wreath on the door... greenery twining on the railing up the outside stairs. In the back, he even put lights on a tree in the yard. White lights, of course. I HATE white Christmas lights. And white lights on a timer. They go on around 5pm and turn off nightly at 10. Russ and Michelle are always asleep real early. I can't fathom turning out my lights by 9, but by 9pm at their house, it looks like total darkness.

Russ is probably the type of husband who scrapes the ice and snow off his wife's window without being asked to. He probably can "fend for himself," food-wise, if needed. I'm sure he does some of his laundry on his own, though he isn't "perfect" enough to tidily fold his socks and underwear...but they make it into the dresser drawers.

Seems like a nice guy. They seem like a pretty functional couple.... Yet- a part of me asks-- what is that bastard doing on the side?

Observations to pass the time

2009-11-24T16:02:00.003-05:00

* I find it amusing [and depressing] that many people do not know how to pronounce the name of our street: Sioux. The pronunciations that people create are interesting, to say the least. The most popular mispronunciation is "SI- UX." Today, the woman with whom I spoke on the phone commented, "American English is hard." I researched and found that the name is modified and has some Canadian French roots but....Um.... it's a Native American tribe.... shouldnt she recognize the name from somewhere??? ...

* It is funny that there is a guy at the gym with arms as "toned" as mine [i.e. not at all] who persists in wearing a sleeveless tee. That's actually a consistent thing with most men at the gym...the sleeveless tee...either purchased "pre-de-sleeved" or homemade via cutting the sleeves off. I don't get it. I revel in the fact that John is pretty muscular but refuses to wear those types of shirts.

*Even funnier than the abundance of sleeveless tees is WHITE Under Armour gear. WHITE. Enough said. Eek.

* A student asked me if I had ever heard of Lady Gaga. Even if you don't actively listen to new "pop" stars, if you glance at magazines or flip on the TV once in a while, then you will be up to date on your pop culture stuff. Me-- I read Perez everyday and own the album, THE FAME. My response to this student was a look, straight in the eye, and a dry "No, I live on Mars."

* The previous owners of this house were huge proponents of Jewish charities. At least 4 times a week, we get solicitations connected to Jewish charities. We also get snazzy catalogs such as THE RESOURCE FOR ALL THINGS JEWISH. No kidding...the title is something along those lines. They have a really cool plaque in which you can put some of the shattered glass from your traditional Jewish wedding.... and cool, artsy menorahs.

Sunday nights....

2009-11-08T20:53:00.003-05:00

I detest Sunday nights.

Just the dread of starting the "work week"--- I hate the feeling hovering over me. I always say that I will get "everything" I need to get done for the weekend completed on Friday, thus leaving me a worry-free weekend. Completing all my work on Friday generally does not happen. I then have all these aspirations of getting the work done over the course of the weekend, in dribs and drabs... leaving work on Friday, my pseudo-briefcase is brimming with paperwork....so much paperwork that when I make a swift turn with the car, papers go flying out of the briefcase and land on the passenger seat on the floor.

Quick flash forward to our current Sunday night.

Those papers are still on my passenger seat floor.

Agh.

I'd grade them if they weren't shit. My students seem so incredibly unmotivated. I try to give them "meaningful" assignments. Recently, a student put me "on the spot" and asked about the purpose behind the class's weekly vocab assignment. I didn't get offended or angry; I simply told him the purposes of the assignment. He still hasn't handed in any of the weekly vocab assignments.

I feel like no matter what I do, some of these students will still be ridiculously unmotivated. I can't help but feel that some of us teachers have made students this way. We seem to "do everything" for them. I laugh when my colleagues give students a super-precise study guide that maps out the exact format and questions that will be on a future test or quiz. We're not really making them independent are we now?

Back to Sunday nights. They amaze me so much because they are full of procrastination. Depending on the "most important task" of the moment, it's interesting what things I will choose to do with my time other than the actual task. Case in point: i'd rather rake or run miles upon miles instead of doing "work work." And I'm not a fan of raking or running at all. It's just interesting how your mindset about something changes when that "thing" is the alternative to a "thing" you want to do even less.

Vapidness

2009-09-15T21:17:00.005-05:00

Well, after hefting all our stuff into the new [to us...] house, it seems horrible to think about moving all it out. However, that's what I was doing tonight....thinking about moving it out, that is.

I feel down. I hate when I feel like this because it is significantly different from my "normal" cynical, pessimistic self. This "down" is just a feeling of emptiness...if other people with real problems and challenges [loss of job, terminal illnesses, lack of close relationships, family tragedies] heard me say I was down, they would look and me and mutter, "Fuck you."

Things aren't that bad...I realize that.

But driving to class tonight, I started getting upset....

Driving in Jersey is so ridiculous. The roads are so crowded and everyone is so incredibly rude. Driving onto Montclair's campus isn't much better. People cutting you off in traffic, etc. And the air of arrogance that most people walk around with... it's uncanny.

When I walk into class, it's 32 girls chattering on and on. It sounds like loud, indistinct sounds merged together. Kind of reminds me of the "teacher voice" used on Charlie Brown. And I know we're all sitting there, listening intently, thinking about our soon-to-be-received Master's degrees. Some people sit there and you can tell they think highly of themselves...not the "I have a good level of confidence" amount...but just the "I am superior" amount. Meanwhile, I sit there, thinking, "I don't know shit about what my degree is and feel ill-prepared to walk out of this place and call myself a reading specialist....".... so I probably won't.

I just wonder if things would be easier if I packed my shit and moved somewhere less expensive...and less crowded.

They say "grass is always greener on the other side"---in this case, it might actually be true.

Self-Loathing Saturday

2009-09-05T15:36:00.002-05:00

We had this cheesy motivational speaker at work the other day. Antics during his presentation included putting a clown nose on his face and making it disappear, then reappear. During most of the presentation, I sat in my chair [utterly uncomfortable--back pressing against metal back of chair] and thought of various other dreadfully boring activities that I'd rather be doing.

Two things stuck out from his presentation though:

1] "The past is not the present."
Sure, the past affects the present and the past is still part of who you are...but it isnt the entirity of who you are. If you had challenges in the past and overcame them... great. If you made mistakes in the past, what has happened has happened...just try to make them again.

2] "Most of us only achieve 20% of our potential."
So yes... I can sit at the kitchen table and read the stupid alumni letter from my college and get irked at reading about others' accomplishments...but it's not like I do not also have the ability to achieve those things. I can sit here on a saturday afternoon and think "I feel fat, unattractive, etc"... or I can get up off my ass and just start my day and be the best I can be. ***I realize the "be the best I can be" statement is ridiculously lame.

I'm just having a shitty Saturday... and i guess what I need to do is go outside, appreciate the beautiful weather, call a friend or two, and sit down and enjoy my free time... instead of sitting here, loathing myself. Easier said than done.

Tech Overload

2009-08-13T19:09:00.002-05:00

Wow. I never thought I'd be so into technology. I mean... most "techies" would not consider me to be a person who is so into technology, but this summer has shown itself to be a summer full of technological explorations.

1] Facebook. I originally was anti-Facebook and much preferred Myspace. Soon everyone just kind of moved over to Facebook so I was kind of forced into using that as my social networking tool. But it's a fun site. There's all these cheesy quizzes you can take. You can send virtual gifts [which I think is lame, but I still do it anyway]. Although i used to rag on John for playing World of Warcraft hours on end, I have gotten interested in a Facebook game... Farmville. I'm not that "into" it, but I definitely check my farm's "status" a few times a day. It astounds me that you can add accessories to your farm by paying with real money. Again...the idea of buying virtual things... I don't get it.

2] Blogger. Ok...I have this blog... but then I also suggested to my Weight Watcher cohorts that we start a blog for our Wednesday night group. So now I find myself checking that and seeing what people have written. We only have 5 people on the blog thus far...it hasnt quite hit the "masses" of the Wednesday night group. People get scared of technology...and a lot of the WW people are older and may not be used to blogs, etc.

3] CraigsList. Addictive. We bought new bedroom, living room, and "tv room" furniture. For the dining room, we are going to buy a used set... Each day I check Craigslist for dining rooms. I mostly am entertained... there's a lot of crap out there. I DETEST country style dining room sets. "White-washed" wood is simply horrible. Black lacquer is not "modern" in my mind and just looks tacky. "Shabby chic" is code for "shit."

4] Myspace...because I have hope that one day the masses will return... although I've gotten so used to Facebook.

5] Perez Hilton. I really need to learn more about Obama's healthcare plan and who is running for governor in November. Instead... I know all about Jon Gosselin... I know that Katie Holmes disappointed audience members when she performed on So You Think You Can Dance. I know that Victoria Beckham is no longer doing underwear modeling for Armani. Also, Lily Allen goes from crazy/tacky to fun/glamorous one day to the next.

It's going to suck when summer ends :(

Suburbanite Observations

2009-07-18T10:48:00.003-05:00

It's been 2 weeks+ since we have moved in. I, oddly, find myself annoyed with clutter and "brick-a-brack." I like the streamlined look of our bedroom and how there's nothing messy about it. The junkmail that is inevitably strewn across the kitchen table irritates me, but it can't be helped. I find the packrat in me putting aside window installation coupons, thinking in my head, "Maybe we'll use this soon."

I find myself thinking that maybe I need a stepstool by our bedroom window, so Flash and Lola don't mark up the walls with paw prints when attempting to jump from the ground to the window.

In short, I guess I am now domesticated.

It's interesting to peoplewatch in the neighborhood. Back in the apartment, it was less of peoplewatching and more of listening. I could hear the next door upstairs neighbors loudly fighting. Him calling her a drunk bitch and her trying to have a comeback and ending up slurring her words instead. The downstairs neighbors would have dinner parties and you'd hear laughter. Another neighbor would have friends over for UFC and pay per view events. You'd hear cheering from their apartment.

Our bedroom is in the front of the house. Part of the time this is frustrating because I like my privacy...but I also like looking out the window, from a distance, and watching what everyone is doing.

Some observations:
*Edith IS our neighborhood watch. Her beach chair is perpetually in her front yard and on any day that is not raining, she sits in her chair and watches everything.

*The guy diagonal from us is what I envision as the typical suburban dad. He constantly is working on lawn maintenance. Today it was amusing because as he was "investigating" from dried patches of grass, he was flicking his cigarette's ashes on the lawn.

*Times don't change. Teenagers careen their cars up the street, with loud, awful music blasting. I guess this is considered "cool."

Things are good so far.

Aww.

2009-06-20T13:39:00.000-05:00

I love eavesdropping on conversations...although eavesdropping is not the exact word I am looking for. I like hearing snippets of conversation in the background of whatever I am doing:)

Yesterday, I was walking around the apartment complex, getting my 10000 steps in. This beige car (Toyota Corolla, functional, simple) pulled up to the curb of one of the buildings. Out from the driver's side stepped a man dressed in a dress shirt and khakis. Walking down the sidewalk toward the car was a woman (about the man's age-- mid 50s?) who was all dressed up in a black dress. He opened the trunk and she put an overnight bag in (my guess is they were on their way to an overnight/weekend trip to AC).

He asked her, "How are you doing?"
She replied, "Great. How are you?"
And then he said.... "I'm great now that you're here."

Aww:) It makes me smile to hear those things in real life.

Although I do have to say... the cynic in me... if a guy said that to me, I'd have to really force myself not to giggle or accidentally roll my eyes.

Overall though...that type of cheesiness would probably make me beam:)

Slowly but surely....

2009-06-15T21:05:00.001-05:00

We will be moved out of this apartment.

We closed on the house today. Our lawyer was a literal mess. His entire office was full of various piles of file folders, bound together by huge binder clips. I do the same thing to organize class sets of essays when they are handed in... but... I am a teacher...not a legal representative.

His swivel chair was also missing a back and one of the arms. When he left the room to xerox something, John took a photo with his cell phone. I broke into laughter. When the lawyer returned back into the room, it took all the self-control I could gather to not start laughing boisterously.

We haven't started too much packing. There's so much stuff...it's overwhelming.

But we're making progress.

Today, I faced the fact that even though they're my "favorite jeans," if they have holes not only at the knee but on both the ass and crotch, plus on both lower ankles, then maybe they can be thrown out. Little steps...little steps... hopefully we'll be out of here by the end of the lease....

Rollercoaster

2009-06-13T14:50:00.002-05:00

I am back "on" with Weight Watchers. I was not ever officially "off" but whenever I don't psychotically track, I gain weight. So annoying. It's not like I've been having pizza, burgers, shakes, chips, etc. I treated myself to some beers last weekend. Otherwise, I ate fine... or so I thought...2 pounds up.

Argh.

John says if i build muscle and start using weights, things will balance out. How stubborn people can be... because I realize he is right but i HATE the weight room side of the gym...so here I continue on... keeping up with cardio but not having huge results.

I witnessed something odd at the food store today and thought to myself, "Ok, I NEVER want to be like THAT." This "large" lady was passing me by in the coffee/cookies/etc aisle. She stopped her cart in front of the biscotis on display and said aloud, "Oh I love those things." She definitely was not targeting her comment toward anyone in particular. Instead, she just seemed to have the name to utter this comment of food favoritism aloud. I thought it was kind of sad.

Another way I don't ever want to be is... post pregnancy...one of those women who just "lets herself go"...who assumes it's ok to walk around in elasticized jeans [eek] and huge tshirts/hoodies because... she is taking care of a child. Obviously when you have a child, it is a life-altering experience but I don't think that means you should let yourself be a lesser version of your previous self. What does that say to your child, in the long run?

Ok...onward and upward...but not on the scale:)

Fuck you. I love you.

2009-06-01T21:11:00.002-05:00

There's nothing quite like unleashing a tirade of curses upon your husband and then, hours later, still being able to lie beside each other in bed, do your silly-voice-talk, and fall asleep together.

John had me work out with him yesterday. We used kettle bells and I got to a point where I was like, "Forget it. I'll run. I'll do anything other than this." So, of course he then had me do 50 kettle bell swings and a jog around the apartment complex. After time #1, I figured we were done. I could, at last, go inside, drink some cold water, and sit down and read. I'm reading this book called Don't You Forget About Me. It's nothing stellar but it makes slight mention of the 1980s and takes place in a "fictitious" area that closely resembles Morristown, Chatham, etc. The author even mentions the Nautilus, aka "Nauseous" Diner.

We ended up doing the 50 kettle bell swing and run around the apartment complex a 2nd time. John has this great ability of making me push myself. I still don't give it my all, but it's better than me just going upstairs. After the 2nd time around, I felt pretty dead. Face red. Body crashing down onto the grass.

Even though it was a tough workout and despite saying "Whatever" and "I can't" and even a few "Fuck yous," I felt good after the workout. Even today...the back of my legs kill but...it feels good.

This week is already feeling significantly better than last week. There's something to be said for that whole body/mind connection idea.

karma

2009-05-21T18:01:00.003-05:00

I shouldn't have made the "fat people" post... Despite eating healthy this week...the only exceptions being pigging out on food at John's parents late night on Friday [after being starved from a raw foods, 16 bite "feast"]...I gained 2.2 pounds. Karma.

Am so frustrated. John says if I add some strength training to my workout that it will help balance the weight loss and make it more consistent. I don't want to do strength training :( Other people at Weight Watchers "treat themselves" to weekly gorge fests on pizza, fries, etc. The last time I have had those foods... I can't even recall:( My metabolism, etc annoys me.

Also...lately...I find myself in a conflict with social networking sites. Part of me likes reading about friends and sharing thoughts, etc. Part of me thinks that these sites end up making me feel lonesome or sad. People seem to post [almost in a bragging manner] all these highlights of their lives. Additionally, it seems like we do more "commenting" back and forth than in "live," in-person time. Can make someone actually feel more out of touch with their "friends" than in touch. I sometimes think it'd be worthwhile to just get rid of myspace, facebook, etc.

Then... I worry what I would do with my time. Most likely it would be way more productive than [essentially] staring at a screen and taking silly "quizzes" like "What Beatles song are you?" and "What your birthdate says about you."

from 18 Days Without You, by Anne Sexton

2009-05-18T22:08:00.003-05:00

December 16th

Once upon a time
you grew up in a bedroom the size of a dime
and shared it with your sister. That was West End
Avenue in Manhattan. Longing for country you were penned
into city, peering across the Hudson at Palisades Park.
The boy in you played stickball until it was dark.

One upon a time
I was the only child forbidden to climb
over the garden wall. I didn't dare to speak
up over the Victorian houseful of rare antiques.
My dolls were all proper, waiting in neat rows.
My room was high ceilinged, lonely and full of echoes.

Once upon a time
you said, "Now that the cabin is ours,
I'm going to run the power in."
And we had a power party.
I made gingham curtains. We nailed up your Doctoral degree.
We turned the stove on twice. Oh my love, oh my louse,
we make our own electricity while we play house.

Insensitive Bitch...or maybe just a realist

2009-05-17T18:06:00.002-05:00

Losing weight has turned me into an aggressive bitch. Case in point: I was at Costco today, trying to navigate consumerism hell on earth. It wasn't even that it was crowded but simply that tons of fat, lazy people were slowly trudging through the store... stopping every five seconds to wait 1-2 minutes for a tiny food morsel sample. It was so annoying. In my head, I was thinking things like, "Move out my way, you fat fuck," "Could your pants be any tighter?," etc.

I NEVER thought this way before.

I guess losing weight has just made me annoyed with other people who, voluntarily, allow themselves to be unhealthy.... unattractive.... lazy...etc. All those traits go together. I wish that stores would stop selling huge sizes. Maybe then people would be motivated to try to take care of themselves--- public humiliation tends to do the trick in many scenarios.

I feel the best I have felt in a long time...probably ever. I can't imagine going back to what I was before...not that I was even anything too horrific. But, it's like once you improve yourself and see all the other positive changes that come along with that one initial improvement, theres no way you will go back to the way things were.

I really don't spend much of my own time thinking about other "fat" people...it's just something that was on my mind today...amidst the gluttons shopping @ Costco.

temperate skies

2009-05-08T16:54:00.002-05:00

The weather of the past week has made me feel like we're in that Ray Bradbury short story, "All Summer in a Day." I witnessed the bright sun shining today, so I guess I won't be playing the part of the girl who gets locked in the closet--- imprisoned long enough to miss the sun shining, let out just in time to see the rain begin to pour again.

While I previously was intrigued by the idea of living in a primarily rainy area like Seattle, this week has confirmed that I would never want to permanently live in a place like that. The rain has been miserable.

The forecast for tonight and tomorrow is rainstorms...again. Right now, there's a light breeze outside and the fading sunlight is slipping through the gaps between trees, branches, and leaves. I like the contrast between the warm temperature outside and the slight chill of the breeze passing by.

I am not really in the mood for welcoming more rain, but I wouldn't mind a full-blown hail storm sometime soon. I remember when I was younger... I ran outside during a hail storm and "caught" hail in a bucket. I then proceeded to keep the bucket in the freezer for quite a few months. I have to start doing silly things like that again, sometime soon.

Fascination with accents

2009-05-03T10:13:00.002-05:00

Any guy who comes to "the states" and has an accent should never be single. As in, there shouldnt be the possibility of singledom for him. American women LOVE accents.

Last night, Jen, Val, and I went out. Two guys were talking to us. One was the "dominant" guy---he came up to us first, started the conversation, etc. His friend (average height, glasses, not super attractive but not unattractive either] just kind of stood nearby, not saying anything. Later in the evening, he revealed that he is the "wingman" when him and his friend go out. Amusing.

When he finally spoke later in the evening, it turned out he had an accent. He's from Wales. Of course, all of us replied, "Oh, England?," to which he replied again, "No, Wales." I'd love to take an informal survey of Americans who actually know and/or recognize Wales as an actual country.

Chris (Welsh guy) was saying he has kind of sworn off dating and given up. Unbelievable. I told him he needs to go to a laundromat, carefully fold his wash, and make sure he goes to the counter and asks for change or some other simple request, making sure to put his voice at a good volume. The minute any woman hears an accent---bam---that's it.

American women are fascinated by accents. I've seen the same scenario occur amongst myself, friends, others: you may be bored with someone or just indifferent. The minute that accent is heard, you are immediately interested. It's something unique. Exciting. Unknown territory.

Nostalgia?....

2009-04-27T19:02:00.003-05:00

Such a contradiction--- thinking that it is ridiculous that people constantly update their Twitter, Facebook, Myspace--- but the same time consciously being "concerned" that I don't have a lot of "friends" on those social networking sites--- Trying to do better things with my time--- finding myself sitting online and doing just about nothing productive with my time.

At 28, I mean, I guess I feel "mature"--- in some ways. But I feel like I've been in my current state for awhile. I've definitely changed over the past few years, feeling more confident probably being the biggest change--- but parts of me still feel like I'm not that far off from how I used to be.

I sometimes laugh at the popularity of certain bands and artists. Take Fall Out Boy. Pete Wentz is MY AGE--- but still dressing in skin tight, colored jeans a la Hot Topic---still getting tons of fans in the middle school/high school age group. Makes me think about music choices too. How do your music choices transcend time?

I, like every teenage girl, had Alanis Morrissette's Jagged Little Pill--- back in '95. Morissette was 21 when the album came out--- I'm sure some of the songs were written earlier than when she was 21 but, nonetheless, most of the album seemed reflective of her experiences. . . . I was 15 but somehow felt "connected" to the album...somehow felt I could relate to the anger in "You Oughtta Know," in addition to other songs... despite not even reaching the rite of passage of first kiss, let alone having someone fuck you and then leave.

I listened to that album today. Also listened to some old Fiona Apple albums recently. The albums still resonate with me. This leads me to asking--- is it nostalgia... or just pathetic?

At least I can feel happy with myself knowing that I will not utter that I feel "connected" to those albums. After a few tracks, the whining, angst-ridden lyrics get pretty aggravating.

Rainy Days and Mondays

2009-04-20T18:16:00.002-05:00

It probably ages me significantly---the fact that I think of that song whenever it rains on a Monday. I remember when I was 7 or 8. They had this TV special on Karen Carpenter--- a mini-movie made for TV. I remember being fascinated--- the whole anorexia thing. How someone could get herself to a point of looking so frail-- and how no one really stopped her.

I'm not a huge Carpenters fan. Always thought the closeness between Richard and Karen was kind of weird too. But I do appreciate listening to the greatest hits album every once in awhile.

I love rainy days. With the exception of blow drying/styling my hair and then having the rain fuck it up, I love rainy days. They somehow energize me. I laugh at how people scurry around quickly, attempting to not get a single drop of rain water on themselves. Traffic is another thing. People just become possessed by some craziness. Suddenly, it's 5:00 and there's a constant stream of ambulance lights glittering up and down the highway. You hear police sirens more often, or so it seems.

The best time is before it rains too--- when you can smell the wetness in the air, smell earthiness, mixed in with the scent of asphalt--it does have a scent.

Melange of Sunday night thoughts

2009-04-19T17:51:00.004-05:00

I don't know why I waste my time so much. I go through phases... sometimes I want to be out and about A LOT. This weekend was filled with a lot of sleep...mostly from avoidance of the grad school paper/presentation due tuesday. I worry the professor will ask some question about my research methods, seeking an answer from me which includes words like "standard deviation, correlation, etc." I'm worried I won't have an answer. But honestly...the worst that can happen is I simply say, "I don't know." It's just some stupid paper anyway.

The thing I did accomplish this weekend was going to the gym 3x in a row. Mostly lazy workouts though...elliptical. Lots of elliptical. Despite taking the weight training class, I still can't make my way over to the weights area. I just feel uncomfortable.

Just was going through my quote journal and re-reading some things. Despite having sad undertones, Bernhard Schlink's THE READER has some beautiful language, some lovely words about love too. I enjoy how a literary piece could be about the most gloomy topic, yet still have some rays of joy shining through. Another book vivid in my mind is Jarhead. Whole book about being amidst war, but I recall two or three pages in which the author describes getting ready to come back to the US. The night before leaving, he made love to a Japanese girl who he had known awhile; she had a boyfriend that had recently returned to her too. But Anthony Swofford's language is beautiful: "I sucked her breath from her mouth and she bit my tongue until it bled. As the sun broke into the barracks, we wept, and she kissed my chest softly."

It was annoying when they made Jarhead into a movie because the movie... sucked. And I'm pretty certain that the lovely aforementioned scene was definitely not included.

Onto other topics: Spring is here! Frankly, the beautiful daytime weather leads to instant slackerdom... I just want to sit outside and read all day. I'm happy that the trees are flowering too. Wish I knew the names of the "species," or phylum...or whatever word categorizes trees more specifically.