doing it for the status

The plot thickens.

So the boss thing... Boss got (supposedly) promoted in December. Then the powers that be kept jerking him around on the official start date of his new role. Then he complained about the jerking around. Then he was given a start date - soon? I think?

Meanwhile, we're still doing our thing as the semester winds down. We are paid every two weeks, and we part-timers submit time sheets every two weeks. I submitted mine yesterday and received the cryptic response:

"Approver" being Boss. Uhm... okay?

I have a different "approver" for the math center, and that time sheet went through as per usual showing the ball in tutor boss's court. 

So it seems that the test center is currently bossless. *PFFFFT*, I wish! 

Well, except for the pay thing.

getting clean

We've been watching Nine Perfect Strangers on Hulu.  You watchin'?  Good escapist TV, comes in handy these days.

I happened to catch the first episode, and it really drew me in.  I think the casting is super well done.  It deals with people at a wellness retreat - to become "better".  There are drugs involved, both as addictions to escape from and as to use for wellness treatment.  

So... what's the difference?

A friend recently told me that she's addicted to smoking weed.  She's determined to stop, not to get over her dependence, but because she knows the smoking is bad for her lungs.  She's developed a noticeable phlegmy cough.  

She says the pot helps to calm her thoughts.  She smokes before going on walks with her dog, and the smoking-walking routine is rather therapeutic.  She's tried edibles and infusions, but apparently she's developed such a high tolerance from the smoking that no other form works for her.  If something other than smoking did the trick, she'd switch in a heartbeat.  

I'll note that she is about my age, has a stable marriage, lives comfortably in a suburban home, has a good relationship with step-kids in their 20's, is productive at her profession, is very sociable and well-liked... 

She told me she's considering hypnosis to kick her habit.  She doesn't want to go to rehab because of the stigma of, "I went to rehab".

When she said that, admittedly, I did think, "Wow, rehab?  It's that bad?"

So I'm watching Nine Perfect Strangers and wondering what that would be like.  Would I cope okay for ten days?  With no connection to the outside world - no news, no internet, no contact with friends or family... no alcohol, no caffeine?

Sure, I could do ten days.   

I think?

what a poser

For a while, several years ago, I went to weekly yoga classes.  Chaco and Wolfgang were just little things, and Meego was still a future thing.  I ran a small daycare out of my house, and a friend of mine who had one small child and anxiety suggested we try some yoga.

Okay, why not!?  Sounded fun and different.

I remember the first class, it was an introductory class for total newbies.  Our instructor went around the room and asked us to share our reasons for being there.  There were the typical responses:  to improve flexibility, to improve balance, to calm the nerves...  I remember one guy's honest answer, "my wife made me".

My answer was equally honest, "I just want to get outta the house."

We continued going for several months.  I was pretty terrible at it - flexibility has never been a strong point of mine - but nonetheless, I enjoyed it and it got me out of the house for one or two evenings a week.

In the years since, I've dusted off the yoga mat a handful of times and flailed about on my own.  Feeling like I needed something new, I got the mat out this week and have been doing some youtube yoga.  Or rather, I've flopped and strained and collapsed while a serene person on my TV gracefully bends and extends - all the while, breathing deeply and speaking calmly.

How do they DO it!  I can barely breathe through most of it, let alone deeply.  Speaking coherently, let alone calmly, is out of the question.  I know I'm doing all kinds of wrong, but in the words of one yogi, "just be where you're at".

The other night, I pulled up a 15-minute "beginner vinyasa flow for detox", and thought it sounded like a good thing to do.  I went through the typical struggles and limitations and failings, but survived the 15 minutes, then drank a big glass of water as instructed since "this acts to wring you out like a sponge".

That night I had the weirdest dreams - nightmarish exorcism type stuff!  I was in the role of the possessed one, and was in some sort of hellish holding area, and the exorcist was coming for me.

I woke up all, WTH??

Later that day, the microwave began weirdly malfunctioning.  Then my watch died.

So, benefits of yoga?  A freed mind. And new appliances and electronics...

... unfortunately, not free.

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...it's how you use it

How big do you like it?  Magnum and I pondered this question this afternoon.

Yup, headed on out to the Tiny House Jamboree!

We might be looking to downsize someday, but we're not really in the market for a tiny house.  It just looked like a fun thing to go kick around.  We invited Meego to come along:

Me:  Wanna go check out the tiny houses?!
Meego:  Why?

Uhm...

Okay, so he stayed behind.  I will say that, although the event was well attended, I didn't see a whole lot of teens there.  Families with little kids and empty-nesters made up the majority.  A few young childless couples too.  I'd bet that a lot of attendees were like us - just looky loos,  not really serious about owning a tiny house.

So it was a fun few hours.   This was the third and last day of the event, and judging by the crowd, I'd say they made a good amount of money from it.  Since the houses were so tiny, there were long lines to go inside them, as they only held a few people.

There were also quite a few houses.  I don't know the complete count, but plenty to see.

It was interesting how the designers made the most of the small spaces, but really, we didn't find them to be anything special compared to a camper or RV.   In fact, the Airstream people were there.  Maybe they realized they'd have a ripe and captive audience.   Here's a shot for Agg79.  Don't mind the huge paint brush.  Obviously no one told them this was an event for tiny things.

One thing that did seem to set the tiny houses apart was that most of them had nice roomy loft areas. Once inside them, they did feel like they had more space than one would expect from looking at the outside.

And, of course, I have written permission from these random jamboree goers to publish photos of them here.  *COUGH* ahem*










Here's a tiny house kitchen, with my good friends the PhotoBomb family.

There was a range of sizes, but most fell within about 300 square feet of living area.  Some of the bathrooms were surprisingly large, while others were very airplane travel-esque.

Good times at the jamboree, but I'm in no rush to shrink.  How big do you like it?

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the case of the gluten invasion

We've noticed a strange phenomenon in our back yard.  Where's Encyclopedia Brown when you need him?

It started a couple of weeks ago.  Magnum was back there working on the Great Wall (yes it's still in progress) when he came upon a... thing.  An unexpected... thing.  It was.... strangely enough... it was... it appeared to be...

a dinner roll?

A fist sized roll like is served warm in a basket at fine dining establishments.  Why would such a thing be buried in our  hill?  Don't tell me the cat is going vegetarian.  NEVER!

So we thought that strange enough and just thought maybe the kid next door chucked a dinner roll over the fence.  Yeah, that happens.

Then on Tuesday, I was in the backyard with China and I went to take something off the clothesline (yes we have one and use it!).  China was snorting around nearby as she does, then goes walking by with... it was a.... she had in her mouth.... yeah, it was a...

a freaking dinner roll!

I thought maybe Magnum just left the one he found for the gophers or whatever and now China had it.  So later when he came home, I asked him what he did with that mystery dinner roll he found.  He said he'd thrown it away.  Well then what the hell dinner roll did China find??

I'm perplexed.  We've found soccer balls, tennis balls, and other stray playthings that wind up in the yard, but dinner rolls?

In other intriguing outdoor things, I rounded a corner on the bike path today and was greeted by this road hog of a tree:

So how's your Aspen?

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tags, I'm it

Happy Friday!  This has been a busy week, and now we're already at the end.

I have to go to the tire store in a little while.  Wolfgang bought a truck that desperately needs a set of tires.  Really, we can't believe the previous owner was still driving around on them.  When we first looked at the truck, I went to check the thread depth on the tires and couldn't find a thread to check!





So, since I'm the resident *Hop Sing around here (harumph!), I'm taking the truck for new tires.  This after I was subjected to the DMV yesterday.






Okay, actually I offered my services since I've got time right now,  Wolfgang has profusely expressed his gratitude, so maybe don't tell him about my typically frustrating time at the DMV yesterday.

I mean, I just don't understand this particular DMV office.  First of all, it's about two miles from our house.  I could easily walk or bicycle there, but yesterday I drove.

I walked into the comfortably air conditioned and pleasingly decorated office where I was greeted by a pleasant DMV person.  She quickly checked to see that I had the proper documentation, then issued my number:  703.

I looked up at the convenient monitor to see that they were currently serving 699, then settled in for my wait.  I also checked my watch.

At just under four minutes later, my number was called.  I had barely sat down and got a feel for the layout and counter numbering system of the place!  How rude, right??

Despite that, I managed to find the counter I'd been summoned to.  The helpful and efficient DMV person clicked on the keyboard a bit while looking over my documents, got up a couple of times, shared a joke with the next staff person over, took my payment, and handed me plates, title, registration, and receipt.  I checked my watch again.

The ENTIRE visit took 11 minutes.  That beats my previous record at that DMV of 12 minutes.

And the reason I drove there? I needed a few groceries, and this DMV happens to be conveniently located in a friendly shopping center that includes a comfortable grocery store.

Dare I say that the whole errand was enjoyable?

Don't be envious, though.  Our post office still sucks.


*Everyone knows Hop Sing?  Or is it just us old folks?

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Houston, we have a problem

Today was a day of no tutees, so I've been checking things off of my built up to-do list.  I was making some pretty decent progress when I noticed something not quite right.

While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, 
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door. 

Okay, not really a tapping and not really as rapping at my chamber door.  It was more a flapping.   A frantic flapping, flapping in my backyard.

Taking a closer look, I saw that it was a bird near the trampoline.  Flying, but not flying.  It was near the safety net of the trampoline.  It was IN the safety net of the trampoline.

"Oh geesh...."

I went out to investigate, thinking to grab some gloves on the way.  Sure enough, the robin had somehow gotten all tangled up in the safety netting.

"This is SO embarrassing.  Please don't post it on your blog!"

He was dangling between two of the trampoline springs, flapping futily between breathers.  I pulled on the netting and placed him on the trampoline, then began to meticulously figure out how to untangle him.

Well, actually, I never quite figured that out.  He was in there, but good.  I eventually just took the yard shears to the netting and cut him out.  He plopped to the ground and I hoped he would flap out of the netting that remained between his feathers.

Didn't happen.

He made a pretty decent run for it though, ending up under the safety of our utility trailer.  I left to go run a couple of errands.  When I came back, he was gone.  I did see another robin, though, that COULD have been the tramp robin with no netting accessories.  He had that what-a-hell-of-a-day-I've-had look about him.

There are some that say that the sight of an animal in an atypical situation is a sign of  something different on the horizon.

Robin in a net?  What might that signify?
.

we are SO stealth

not even the great google knows where we are!

I have a friend coming to visit from out of town.  I wanted to e-mail her directions to our humble abode.  Simple thing, right?  Google maps??

I put our address in, pulled up the map, got ready to forward it along (what did we do before the internet?).  But then I looked closer.  That's not our house.  It's a house down the street and around the corner.  We don't live down the street and around the corner.

I checked my typing.  Had to be a typo.  I typed it again.  Again I was directed to down the street and around the corner.  I tried more things - spelling each word out instead of abbreviations, abbreviations instead of full words, fresh load the page and start from scratch.  Each time, down the street and around the corner.



View Larger Map

So this is a bit of a mystery.  I know we used to be on google's A-list.  Satellite view.  Street view.  Map view.  The whole google kaboodle.  Now they're directing to another house.

Chaco's probably behind it.  He does these, sometimes unallowed things when he gets bored.  And Chaco, if you're bored now and hacking onto my screen, close it and go do your homework.

No, he couldn't really hack google.  hahahaha... could he?  Either way, it might help explain the mysterious case of the missing pizza delivery.

Whatever the cause, I'm sure my friend will find me.  We don't need no stinkin' google.
.

CSI sidewalk

In terror they watched as, one by one, their brothers/sisters were taken from them.  Repeated exposure to this does something to a psyche.  Soon, they could think of nothing else but revenge.

They planned and plotted and schemed.  They made outlines and drawings and revisions to outlines and drawings and finally hatched something that just might work... if the stars aligned.

They began collecting.  Collecting the materials they would need.  They waited in hiding as their unknowing accomplices - the landscaping crews - shed the necessary ingredients. And eventually their meticulous planning and work paid off. 

They'd made a bomb.

The bomb became like an idol of worship to them.  It was their way to salvation.  It must hit its mark because, once spent, it was gone forever.  But the years of oppression had brought them to this state.  The state of evil genius. 

And it worked.

I came upon this morbid scene while out taking China for her daily beauty walk.  It's the body of a bluebird - male I think - wedged in a fence.  I'm pretty sure it's  DEAD. 

"What could have done this?", I wondered.  How does a bluebird body end up wedged in between two fence boards. 

Revenge of the Worms.  Gotta be.

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CSI Abby's

I was tidying up a bit today.  Often when I'm tidying up, I come across treasures.  Mysterious sticky notes, "lost" homework assignments, ", that sock...

Today as I tidied, I discovered something quite unexpected.

This is truly a mystery.  It's like nothing I've seen on this earth.  I discovered it behind the futon.

I've used my advanced detecting skills to narrow down its origin. 

This is the area where Wolfgang and Meego dump store their backpacks when they get home from school. 

It's safe to say that this... this.... this this was not here for most of yesterday.

I've deduced that Wolfgang is the prime suspect for this alien's presence.  That doesn't help explain the mystery at all.

I do know that he was at a track meet until relatively late.  This is the strangest athletic award I've ever seen. 

It occurs to me that it may be a depiction of something I'm just not familiar with and that perhaps a reader who visits will recognize this creature?  Maybe have an explanation as to why it's here? 

Or maybe I've just set a new Dust Bunny PR.

 

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yesterday

Yesterday...

included a cold blustery wind to replace our nice spring weather.   A cold blustery wind that buffeted me all during crossing guard morning.  Finally, when I was free to return to the warm indoors, it...

included a butt of a driver who barely missed me as I crossed the street on my way home, who slowed down only after I pointed out the flashing lights as she passed me by.

included me almost wishing she'd  hit me (doing only slight, if any, damage, and keyword being "almost") to serve as a [censored!] wake up call.

included an "aging parents" incident that brought up the helpless feelings.  Again.  And then...

included a guy confronting me in a parking lot over how/where I had parked.

What? 

I was wearied by that point.  All this, and it was barely past noon.

The guy was upset and I couldn't believe I was having the conversation.  In the back of my mind, I was wondering if there were candid cameras somewhere.  He didn't seem like a weirdo, and yet he was being ridiculous. 

Eventually, unexpectedly, I managed to show him that he was mistaken.  And, when I should have been pissed off at the whole thing, maybe I was just too tired of it all by that point.  Instead, I offered to help him out.  Maybe he was just havng a crappy day too.

He just got quiet.  He sheepishly apologized.  He actually said, "I'm sorry". 

He said, "I'm sorry". 

To me. 

Turns out, that's all I needed.

The day got better after that.
.

don't try this at home, or anywhere

If at first you don't succeed, failure may be your style. - Quentin Crisp

It would be a night to remember. 

I was with three of my best friends.  Late spring.  Beautiful night.  We were all 17-years-old and very very wise.  Or so we thought.  Being young and wise and high on friendship and the beautiful night (and there was probably beer present, I'm thinking yeah), we waxed philosophically about our lives and deep topics like friendship and boys and

cow-tipping.

For those unfamiliar with the term "cow-tipping", it's something of rural lore pertaining to the act of tipping over cows.  No, not "tripping" over cows.  TIPPING over cows, as in pushing on them until they fall over.  For those who have heard of this and wonder of it's truth, there is NO truth!  It's all a big MYTH!!

Three of the four of us didn't know that.  We do now.

The fourth one was a rancher girl named Stephanie.  Stephanie lived in the outskirts of our little hometown.  There were lots of smallish hobby-type farms and such around our boonie-filled town, but Stephanie's place was actually quite an operation.  A real ranch that was her family's business.

And they had cows.  Lots of cows. 

That's where we were that night, in a cow pasture under the moon and the stars.  The four of us, the many cows, and  Stephanie's dogs, Shep and Red Neck (really, those were their names).  I remember sitting on the ground, leaning against Red Neck as our discussion turned to cow-tipping. 

Theresa was most curious and asked Stephanie if it was true. 

"Yeah, we tip them over all the time.  Want to do one now?"

Of course we did. 

"Just find one in the open that isn't moving around much.  That means that it's probably asleep.", Stephanie instructed, "then just walk up to it quietly, and then SHOVE it good!"

Okay, the three of us would do this together.  In the dim moonlight, we found a suitable victim. 

"I don't know, it seems kinda mean", Carolyn was having misgivings. 

"Nah, they pretty much sleep through the whole thing", Stephanie assured.

We approached.  Some of the other cows moved off slowly, but our target remained. 

I remember how, up close, cows are a lot bigger than they look on TV and the movies.  That was part of the fun of hanging out at Stephanie's - all that real world knowledge!  This cow was no exception.  It suddenly seemed enormous. 

Nevertheless, the three of us positioned ourselves - legs anchored, hands lightly on the cow's flanks. 

"Okay," I whispered (why was it me that counted us off?), "one... two... THREE!"  BIG SHOVE!

That cow did not tip.  Didn't come close to tipping.  The only things that fell over were Theresa, Carolyn, and me.  The cow, on the other hand, was I think a little pissed off at the whole thing.  She reared her head at us, kicked a little, and took off for about 10 steps.  The other cows were all a little wtf?  too.   In today's terms, it was an epic fail.

I was glad it was dark and I wasn't quite sure what I'd landed in.  The three of us laid there laughing at each other, but clearly Stephanie was laughing the hardest. 

"Cows don't sleep standing up (YOU BUTTHEADS)!  That's just a bunch of bullsh*t somebody made up!  Like you're really gonna tip one over!"

And then, "Come on over to the barn, I'll hose you all down".

A night to remember.

.

¿Qué?

There I was.  Produce section of the grocery store.  Doing the produce thing when a clean cut, friendly faced hispanic man approached. 

"Hola, habla español?", he said.

"Si, un poco", I replied.  At this point I figured he didn't speak English and possibly needed some grocery-shopping related assistance.  I put on my invisible Spanish-thinking cap and readied for his question.

Instead, I was presented with a Jehovah's Witness pamphlet in Spanish.

What the eff??

He continued to speak to me in Spanish while flipping through the pamphlet with nice illustrations of happy, healthy dark-haired people.  I stood there, saying nothing in response because I was too busy wondering why he had targeted me.  Was it that (a) I look like an hispanic person who does not speak any English? (b) I look like an hispanic person who does not speak any English and who is on a path to eternal damnation? (c) he was really a dirty old man who is into kinky Spanish spoken things, and this was his way of weeding out the potentials? or (d) something evil was afoot?

Furtherly mystifying was that I had just come from a tutoring session and was in my relatively professional version of myself, rather than a non-English speaking version of myself. 

I didn't ponder that for too long, however, because what I REALLY  wanted to know was... why was this happening to me in the produce section of a grocery store?  I can't remember ever being subjected to that inside a place of business.

Eventually, I was able to basically tell him, "Gracias, but what I really need are some tomatoes", and we parted on good terms.

Later I was thinking, I couldn't do that.  Just go up to people and start giving unsolicited advice.  It seems such an intrusion.  Plus, there are some who just Don't.  Like.  It.  Especially with topics involving religion or politics.  It's like asking for a punch in the face.

I'm curious about how others feel about unsolicited advice.  Are there some areas where it's welcome, but others where it's not?  What about giving it?  Comfortable?  Uncomfortable?  Un poco?
.

stay at home, mom

Hey gamers (yawn), how about that Fallout New Vegas?

Okay, I'm not a video gamer at all. However, my living situation requires that I am constantly in the know about the world of video gaming. I will say that I find it rather interesting that the video game world is one of the few that has hardly been affected by the recession. People will find ways to stretch their toilet paper stash, but don't take away the video games!

Anyway, yesterday was another big release date for a game lovingly named "Fallout New Vegas". As per usual with these big release games, Chaco had pre-ordered his copy, happily paying a premium in order to getting his on release day Tuesday.

Except it didn't show.... HORRORS!

I don't know, something happened with amazon dot com where a bunch of "guaranteed" orders were not delivered (I'm curiously monitoring the backlash). Now, here I was, under strict request to please, Mom, please!! be home to sign for the precious package on release day Tuesday.

So I made exciting plans to accomodate this request by cleaning my kitchen. That was Tuesday. Amazon dot com then sent further correspondence to explain that the copy was on it's way, would be overnighted and delivered by fedex on day-after-release-day Wednesday, a.k.a. today.

Once again, the strict request was issued for me to be here to accept the precious cargo that would be delivered "some time before 3 pm". Nice of them to narrow it down for me.

By 11 am, I was getting desperate to get out. It was a beautiful day. The dog needed her beauty walk, I needed to get cookies for my class later this evening - this is the high schoolers. I've learned that one way to a high schooler's brain is through their stomach, via junk food, but I digress. Nonetheless, I needed to LEAVE THE HOUSE! *music of foreboding*.

Shhhhh.... don't tell Chaco, but.... I left. SHHHHH!!

I went to the grocery store, got a few things, got some cookies. Upon my arrival back home, I had JUST backed into the garage when the fedex truck pulled up. I couldn't have synchronized it better if I'd planned it! I got it! I got the stupid video game!

oh SHEESH!
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the excitement continues

Happy Wednesday, I made the new weekly pilgrimage to the p.o. box today. Lo and behold, there was something in there!

A coupon! A coupon for Staples!

So there was much satisfaction in knowing that I had pedalled all the way there - brought the bike lock and everything - for an actual purpose. There it was. A shiny coupon. A coupon I will probably never use other than to add to the weight of our recycling.

Deanna Somebody or
Current Resident

That's me! Just below my alias of "Current Resident" was a business name. Later, I was extremely bored and unproductive curious, so googled Deanna Somebody of [name of business] to see who the previous owner of our p.o. box was.

Natural nail care.

Well okay then. That was exciting.

Not.

There's always next Wednesday. I can hardly wait.
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he, himself, and me

Kids have the day off of school today. It's the anniversary of the Columbine shootings, plus it's pot smoking day, so the district just decided to call it. To my surprise 2/3 of the brood are up and out of bed already.

Speaking of being up and about, recall a while ago when I blogged of my return to early morning outdoor running after the long cold winter. Recall the crazy man I encountered? The crazy man with the duffle bags?

Turned out he was actually a very friendly person just waiting for his carpool. Weeks have passed, and he and I have continued to greet each other on these dark mornings as I pass by in my myopic haze and he and the duffle bags wait on the corner. I don't know his name. I don't know where he goes after the car picks him up, I don't know what's in the duffle bags. I just learned that he is a very cheerful person.

Sometimes.

Sometimes, his greetings are much like that first encounter - very friendly and animated, including a spritied "happy running!" or some such. Other times, not so much. Other times, it seems almost burdensome for him to acknowledge me. Like he's got a split personality or something.

Well... lo and behold! Last week, I finally got a clue. It's not a split personality, it's actually two different guys!

All this time, I've been passing by and greeting this person, receiving mixed greetings in return, and just last week I realized the explanation. Okay, as I mentioned, I don't wear my glasses when I run, PLUS, it's still dark out when I see "him", PLUS, it's pretty chilly that time in the morning. Chilly enough for people waiting for a carpool to be covered in jackets and hats.

Well, it's started to warm up a little and one morning last week, when I passed "Mr. Friendly", he was just wearing a light coat and a baseball cap. Same duffle bags. A couple of days later, I passed "Mr. Disinterested". It was then that I finally noticed that he's a totally different person from Mr. Friendly! Who knew?!

But now I'm really curious. Just who are those guys? Where do they go? WHAT'S IN THE DUFFLE BAGS?? I think I'll ask.

I'll ask Mr. Friendly.
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get up

Happy lenten season!

Now, I am under no external religious obligation to take part in lent, but each year it rolls around and I often just go ahead and play along, thinking that it's probably a good thing to do.

And this year, it just snuck up on me. What? Yesterday was Ash Wednesday?! DANG, I totally missed Fat Tuesday!

So I've had to scramble to figure out my lenten sacrifice.

Anyway, this morning I went running. I left the house and left my neighborhood and was walking passed the next neighborhood over. It was about 5 a.m. It's pitch dark out. It's about 25 degrees and there's this crazy man standing on the corner.

At first I wasn't sure if it was a crazy man. Could've just been an oddly shaped evergreen because it was dark, and I suffer from myopia, and I refuse to wear glasses when I run because doing so makes me nauseous.

As I got closer, however, it became clear that it was a crazy man - or at least a crazy human - because it moved unlike the way an oddly shaped evergreen would move when there's no wind to speak of. All right, it's clearly a crazy person because normal people just aren't out at that time of morning.

As I got even closer, I noticed "baggage" near the crazy man's feet. Probably the chopped up remains of his victims since his latest escape from the Institution for the Criminally Insane. Great, this is how it's going down. I continued onward.

Eventually, I was within a few feet of him and the myopia wasn't so bad. He actually looked a little more sane looking than at first and the bags of victim's parts were a couple of quality-looking duffle bags. Maybe he was just waiting for his carpool. At that point, he noticed me, and from the look on his face, I'm sure he thought I was a murderous escapee from the Institution for the Criminally Insane. Normal people just aren't out at that time of morning.

"Good morning!", I offered in what I hoped was a sane sounding tone.

"Hello!", he chimed back in a very cheerful, friendly, non-murderous tone mixed in with a bit of relief that I was (probably) not the crazy murderous type.

Funny how that one word, spoken just so, can convey so much. The murderous crazy man on the corner was suddenly transformed into this fun, interesting person (uninteresting people just aren't out at that time of morning) whom I should invite for next Thanksgiving. Let's chuck our plans for running and carpooling and just go get a coffee, shall we?

Okay, we didn't.

My reason for describing this occurrence is that it was the impetus for getting me out of my lenten haze. I decided that I will give up negativity for lent.

Lately, I'd been irritated by negative people around me. Whiners, critics, uptights, etc. So, I've decided that I'm not going to let them irritate me anymore. Let them wallow, I choose not to.

Let the fast begin.
.

tapped

I can't recall the last time I'd anticipated something quite so much.

We had set the date a week prior, and not a day had passed when I didn't think about it at some point. The day arrived and there I was, his willing participant.

After getting some necessary things out of the way, we got down to more serious business. He was very gentle with me, very soothing.

"What made you wait so long?", he asked.

"I've thought about it for quite a while, of course," I explained, "I just wanted be sure of what I wanted". He understood, and continued. I felt a bit of a stinging, burning sensation.

"Let me know if I'm hurting you... or if something doesn't feel right", he spoke gently. And then a minute or so later, "Does it feel like what you expected?"

"Yes", I replied, "about what I'd expected. It's fine".

And soon, it began to feel rather good. I started to relax and enjoy it. I could understand how some people could get carried away with it, almost addicted.

A few minutes later, and it was finished.

My first tattoo.
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profiler

Okay, so I got this e-mail. It was highly personal. I know that because it started out:

"Dear Colleague:"

It's from a group at the national level of the place I work. Apparently they are revamping the website and "online center"and want to include biographies of us teachers on there. The e-mail was asking me to click a link to fill out the survey for my info to be included in this sleek new "online center". The results of the survey are for "professionally-crafted profiles for perusal by prospective and current students"

Okay fine.

So I clicked the link, filled in a couple of rudimentary questions and then scanned some of the other questions. There were forward and backward buttons so I figured I could move around before submitting my survey.

Well, turns out I couldn't.

I clicked the forward button and got that "THANKS FOR COMPLETING OUR SURVEY. YOUR ANSWERS HAVE BEEN RECORDED" page. No going back, no reset button, just pretty much "thanks, goodbye, dear colleague".

Perhaps it will elicit my coming across as one of the more mysterious teachers. The intrigue my sparse profile will bring about will have prospective students signing up for classes left and right! What a great marketing ploy!

Or not.
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Silver Liningness, part XI

Happy November everyone! We've survived Halloween, and I am thankful for that extra hour - as silly as I think this whole thing of flipping clocks is, I'll take it.

Quite the tempestuous week it was! Had a minor snowstorm come through Sunday, delaying school on Monday. Then had an adult snowstorm come through on Tuesday which closed school on Wednesday and Thursday and delayed Friday. Kids in our district had just one real day - and even that is questionable - of school last week.

This made me thankful for the new furnace we got last fall.

It also made me thankful for those Live Online classes - not one missed class on account of weather.

And the party must still go on! Friday was Meego's school party. Good thing school was open. And speaking of Halloween...

Here we have an out-of-luck NASCAR driver; a Nearly Dead - it's apparently from a video game, so I'm told...; an Edward Cullen. [They get bigger if you click the pic].

The Nearly Dead took the crashed NASCAR driver out to trick-or-treat, along with a large M&M friend. The M&M friend was actually quite frightening because said friend is positiviely allergic to M&M's.

Edward Cullen went to a party and has yet to return.

As for me, I had to work in the morning. I thought I would dress up as a geeky professor type, but then worried that my students might not realize that I was in costume, so...

And the afternoon was absolutely beautiful, weather-wise. We went to a local popular park and play play PLAYED!

Oh, and those tracks in the snow? Remember? I think I have a positive identification. The M&M kid, before he transformed into the allergen, was wearing an animal tracks t-shirt. I found Red Fox prints near the kid's spleen.

Sly thing... probably after my eggs.
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