Success!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.

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

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...

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

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

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.

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

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

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!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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"

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

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

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"

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

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

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

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

* 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....

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.