Friday, May 28, 2010

Beatings will continue...

until morale improves.

That is about how I feel. Today is Friday; last day of school. All of the students will be out of the building by 1:30, leaving the faculty to finish grading and packing up rooms etc. for the summer.

Yesterday, to put it bluntly, was a hell of a day. I'm not sure if I can even describe it in a way that makes sense. I'll try to reduce everything to the lowest common denominator. Trust me when I tell you I am leaving large bits out.

While trying to clean out the TV studio (remodeling this summer), it became clear that there are still problems with the Mayor of Meantown.

Blondie and I discussed it afterwards and agreed that as long as she felt any ownership over the journalism program (ie teaching a multimedia class) she was going to want to exert power and influence, and we would be at odds. And it isn't even that I want to be in charge or anything it is just that she is somehow threatened by me and reacts to that feeling.

Example: while cleaning I started looking for the yearbook DVDs that haven't been passed out yet, but that people have bought from the last four years. The Mayor informed me she saved 2 from each year. I said that wasn't enough, where were they so that I could pull them. Mayor got mad. This begs the question: why would she give a shit? I wasn't asking her to pull them, store them, pass them out or deal with them in any way, but I know that I need to have them so that if someone does show up, I have them to pass out.

There are seriously weird psychological issues at play; and they are not even mine. The Mayor is worried about being "left out" of anything, but she is at the other end of the building and Blondie and I share an office. We talk all day (except for those times we are forced to teach or talk to the children haha, no really.) So, pretty much, she will always be the last to know and it is almost a guarantee that we will forget to tell her stuff and then what? She'll always be pissed.

At any rate, I looked at Blondie yesterday and said I didn't think I was going to be able to work with the Mayor. I cannot take the stress (I am a delicate flower, thank you very much.) I considered this to be an act of self-protection. I've met crazy me, and she is really no fun to be with at all. She was concerned enough about what is going to happen that she sought guidance from the powers that be. A meeting is scheduled for today.

We went to Neiman's for make-overs (I love my friend LG, she just calls and says hey, I've scheduled you for xxx time, does that work? ...Why, yes, that is lovely) After our make-overs we went to dinner. I'd been telling her for two days about the pizza that Jerimy makes at Kirby's. It is soooo good. Unfortunately, it isn't on the menu yet, and he was totally making pizzas for some PR thing.

I kept throwing Mike, the bartender, under the bus by asking him to check with Jerimy on the pizza. There might have been death threats made to Mike, however, he was too much of a gentleman to repeat them to us. But, really, is it my fault that Jerimy tested out a new pizza on me and I found it to die for? I say no. I am a victim of a shockingly good pizza.

There is a chance I might have gotten horsey waiting for the pizza. When Jerimy finally was able to make it he placed it gently in front of me with the words "If anyone else asks for this, I'm going to kill you." Do you see why I love this place so?

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