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....
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
Sunday, September 25, 2011
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.
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.
Saturday, September 10, 2011
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.
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.
Friday, September 02, 2011
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."
Saturday, August 27, 2011
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!"
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!"
Thursday, August 25, 2011
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!!!
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!!!
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
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...
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...
Friday, August 19, 2011
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?
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?
Sunday, August 07, 2011
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:)
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:)
Monday, July 18, 2011
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.
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.
Sunday, June 19, 2011
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....
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....
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
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....
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....
Sunday, May 08, 2011
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.
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.
Sunday, March 13, 2011
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....
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....
Sunday, March 06, 2011
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....
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....
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
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.
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.
Sunday, February 13, 2011
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 :-)
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 :-)
Sunday, February 06, 2011
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.
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.
Sunday, January 09, 2011
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.
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.
Sunday, November 28, 2010
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....
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....
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