Ramblings on Christmas Eve

Merry Christmas everyone!

What can I say? Left to my own devices, I ramble. I'm sitting in my red velvet chair looking out the back window at the yard as it fills with snow. A fairly unusual sight in my part of the world, and I've gotten to watch it snow twice this December. This one is more of an icy snow with high winds, so not quite as enchanting as the first.

I've been working diligently this week emptying my storage units and trying to fit all of my crapola in the house. It's not really working. I look at each item and contemplate its value as well as the chances of selling it on Craig's list or in a garage sale . . . all I can say is a lot of my prized possessions are going to find themselves on the auction block. This is about to be the season of reducing inventory.

I have to say I am pleased with the way the year ended. Well, mostly. I am renting (not as magical as I thought it would b) but I ask you where were all of my damn friends when I was waxing poetically about what I was certain were the joys of renting vs. owning??? In the land of keeping their mouths shut, that's where.

I like the house, it is small, but it is a great location. Walking distance to lots of places to eat (important since I STILL don't have a working stove), 7-eleven and the magical slurpees, my new work-out place and a dry-cleaners.

I also like that it is new and warm. Even when the heat isn't on it is a good 20degrees warmer than my former abode. And the bathtub? Well, the bathtub is to die for. FABULOUS!!

I think it will do me good to settle in, work on reducing debt, not spend money on a house or stuff for a while and simplify in general.

Remember my friend, Jim? As I reflect on the year, I find myself thinking about how my social life has improved 10-fold from knowing him. Beyond the fact that he is an excellent movie companion, he has these great dinners that I get invited to regularly. They are mostly dinners for his neighborhood pals, but he is kind enough to let me come anyway. I might add, he has great neighborhood pals.

I went to a Christmas party a couple of weeks ago at his neighbors across the street. If I could find a way to take photos of the W's house without being a total stalker, I would do it. They are minimalists, with money, and a great 1950's circa art deco style house. Lots of windows and cool furniture. Of course their party was fabulous, cause people that cool have to have fabulous parties, don't cha' know.

Fun side note, while there I chatted up with other neighbors (equally as cool, no wonder I couldn't find a house there when I was looking, clearly my cool quotient isn't high enough yet!) At any rate, Big D asks me if it is weird that people I don't realize are reading my blog are reading my blog. . . hmm I think, no because I'm pretty certain there are only 5 people reading the damn thing and I'm related to 4 of them.

(Quick side note, as I write this Fergie's Glamorous Life has just come on . . .as it begins Sabrina begins to howl. I love that song and the damn dog is adding her own soundtrack. Geez)

Back on topic, Big D tells me he actually reads the blog ?what? turns out last time I saw him I threw out what the blog was, and son-of-a-bitch he remembered the address and went to it. Cracks me up. Now I have to think about the fact that before he might have suspected I'm a total nut job but now he KNOWS I am. At any rate, I say hats off to you Big D for sticking with it. Once I start dating again, I'm sure things will improve. . .which brings me to what I shall fondly refer to as Suicide watch 2010. (Only slightly tongue in cheek cause let me assure you I am TOTALLY traumatized by the fact I turn FORTY in February.)

It hurts me to even type it. Yes, I realize there are many people older than that who might or might not have been traumatized by their own turning of 40. Trust me when I tell you I am beside myself. Many reasons for that which I'm certain I will reguritate about at some point, just not now.

Oh, yeah, back to Jim. So, last night he had one of his dinners. He had to set up two big long tables for everyone. It was so much fun. Everyone is interesting and fun, and it is like a great big family. Without a doubt, I am very grateful for Jim.

I have more rambling to do, but I'm about to have my very special mac and cheese Christmas dinner. Yummy. So, maybe more tomorrow. . .

Looking back on annoying men 09

As it turns out, all of the really annoying men managed to converge on one evening. So, I roll over to Kirby's looking for my usual Cosmo/Steak evening. I slide up to the backside of the bar. It's actually really nice that they now HAVE a backside of the bar. It allows one to enjoy a beverage without actually having to talk to too many people. In addition, I was working on my thank you notes.

No, I didn't get that many gifts this year, but the parents contribute to the teacher lunches. (It's a fund that gets divided up, and however much there is, that is how many lunch tickets each teacher gets that month - that's right, free food. I love that shit.) At any rate, when they contribute, they do so in a teacher's name, so at Christmas, I write a mass of thank you notes.

At any rate, boy 1 shows up. He has floated around before, fellow barfly, who, near as I can tell, doesn't handle his liquor well, cause he gets plain stupid when he drinks.

Then the guy that bought me drinks but then walked the tab, shows up. He doesn't actually talk to me (I'm not even sure he saw me) but it annoyed me all over again that he was such a jackass that he SAID he was covering my tab, just to. . not. Whatever.

Then, I get a message from the drummer. Just calling to say hi bullshit. Go away I say. Must we have a conversation about that fact I really liked him and he...just...didn't like me back?? Crikey man, go away.

In the meantime, fellow barfly annoys me to the point I have to pay my tab and leave. Late that evening he sends a note saying he'll call me sometime. I controlled the urge to send a note back that says please don't.

Dear Lord, please let 2010 turn out to be better for me man wise than all previous years. Not that I've just set the bar high with that one, but still.

Waiting to Exhale

I forget how utterly miserable the two weeks before Christmas break are EVERY, SINGLE, FREAKING year. I forget this is when we send off alllll of the people pages (about 100 or so) and we make sure all the other pages from first semester are gone, and we are returning all of the proofs. It's a lot of work. And this year, it turns out English may not be the mother tongue of half the staff. Really, that is the only explanation that makes sense. They don't understand the comma. (My dad is snorting at this point because, yes, I had problems with the comma into my twenties.) They also don't know the difference between men and man. And spellcheck. That is totally and completely a foreign concept to them. So, yesterday when I started saying I HAD to go to take care of the dogs, one of the editors-in-chief hopped up and said she would take care of it.

"Are you sure? My dogs are crazy."

"Yes, I can do it. You must stay here and keep grading."

"Sigh. Ok"

When she got back, she did warn me of what I would see when I arrived after 7:30 after being in the yearbook room all dang day . . . Notice Sabrina trying to look innocent. From this angle it doesn't look tooooo bad. . .

But then I got closer. That (blue thing in the middle of the feathers) used to be a very big, full, feather pillow sitting on my couch.

The white material used to be the lining. . .I think.

And, yes, I feel confident that I know who the culprit is. . . the joyful dog playing in the feathers. That dog. Notice the bag in the background. That is the first bag of feathers. There is a second. And it took ALL evening to clean up.

The fact that they aren't dead is a miracle. Cause death was close.

Today is Saturday

This is the day I'm supposed to sleep late and squander my time. Oh, sure, I knew I was going to need to unpack some more boxes and do some work on getting all of my crapola to fit in the house, but it would nice and lovely and no spazzing.

Today is the day my editors said that we needed to work if we were going to get everything done. Now, how can I possibly look into the eyes of my overachieving UNPAID editors and say, "Hell no, I'm not coming in on a Saturday. Are you nuts?"

I'd also like to add that by the end of the day Friday, I had a doc to proofread for counseling, a syllabus to write for a course that I may or may NOT be teaching next year, and a nice little stack of stuff to do that I have been avoiding.

Of course, the editors won, and I set the alarm to be at school. I started this post at 9am when I got there. I thought what the heck, while they are working, I can at least start working on my school to do list. That went to hell by about 9:30 when they started rolling in for me to proof read pages. And they kept coming, and coming, and coming. So I got ZERO done on my house Saturday.

I did, at least, manage to get the syllabus done with quite a bit of help from Blondie (Thank you, Lord, for Blondie if I haven't thanked you recently.)

So, the day ended and I took everything home. Haven't actually gotten any of it done.

I have to be at school at 6:30 am 'cause the newspaper staff is on deadline and (again Thank you, Lord) Blondie and I are a team - I take mornings, she takes afternoons. Maybe I can get some actual work done Monday morning.

Today, I did manage to unload two batches of storage stuff today, I got Cat and brought him to the new abode, I hit the grocery store, and I managed to do my laundry, although it isn't folded or ironed. Oh, and I walked the dogs and washed my hair. I need more hours in the day if I'm going to actually get real work done.

Yearning for pictures part 2

Ok, so after the downstairs then you get to go up . . . and see my cute little table and picture. awwww.

Turn to the right and you enter the master bedroom. Notice the soothing color on the walls. Not huge, but big enough.

If turn to the left, you enter the guest bedroom,

with the sweet little writing desk in the nook.

Not as much room here, but still cute. I haven't figured out how to make alllll of the stuff that went with my big desk and the entire closet devoted to office supplies fit in a much, much, much smaller area. . .

The bathroom is connected to both bedrooms. The important thing here . . . that's right, the killer tub. If you look closely at the shower, you will notice it appears complicated. And, it is complicated. Damn thing should have come with instructions.

The end.

I know you are yearning

Dying to see the new digs? Sure, the empty crayon box was a vision, but surely as you looked you thought, how in the holy hell is she gonna get her crap in there?? Trust me, you weren't the only one wondering that. And if you weren't wondering that, well, obviously, you just don't know me well enough to know that without a doubt you should be wondering that. (You might also remember that I downsized the LAST time I moved but I had great storage.) Now, I've downsized AGAIN but no storage.

I'll get a picture, but the front of the house is butt ugly. The garage is in the front and it just isn't pretty. Once you walk in there is a short hall to the guest bathroom and the utility closet on the left, the stairwell to the right, and you look ahead to the kitchen and living room.

I have to tell you, the fridge is actually complicated. There is a whole touch system on the door to adjust all sorts of stuff. Way more complicated than my fluids and condiments need.

The "dining room" I use that term loosely just fits a wee table and the china cabinet. Please note, the wall is no longer red.

1 Second

So the other day I was having a great conversation with a friend about one second. That basically if you look at your life and especially the really bad awful things that happen. They are things that happen in an instant: car wrecks, fights with best friends (the ones where something terrible is said that can't be taken back), broken bones etc.

If you add up all of those things, they don't add up to a lot of time. In reality, most of our lives are filled with mundane moments then flow together from moment to moment, mostly filled with contentment and even happiness.

I was reminded of this conversation watching the UT/Nebraska football game Saturday. Certainly Nebraska was trying to run the time out before they made there final play. . . but in the end, it was one second that made all the difference. UT got the second, and they kicked and scored.

It's probably a good thing to remember. We have a hellofa lot more happy seconds than unhappy seconds. Remind me of this next time I'm all out of sorts and cranky . . . say as we approach the dreaded 40th bday.

The Crayon Box

OK, so once I felt confident my house was going to really sell, then I had to get the freak busy finding a place to live.

Let me tell you, there are some crappy ass places out there being rented out. The Crayon box was the best of the lot. More expensive, but built in 2002 with a great bathtub. (It's good to stay focused on the important stuff in life.)

Quick disclaimer: I had the camera on the wrong setting so all of the photos are a little blurry. Worry not about that, focus on the colors. It is like a clown threw up in this place.

First, lavender my friend. This entire room is lavender. For the boys, translate this as light purple.

The downstairs has a red wall. Not deep red. Not gorgeous red. RED, like clown red.

Master bedroom? I can only describe as Microsoft Blue . . .and peek your eye in that bathroom. . .yes, yes it is LIME green.

The best part for me? When I asked about painting, the property management company said the owner wanted to approve the colors. As IF it were possible to do worse. She has let me know twice since that the owner wants to have her take pictures so that he can see it. Whatever.

The curse of the quick fingers

I finally got around to downloading all of my fabulous pictures. . . pictures of the new place, pictures of the house I loved so dear sad and empty, pictures of the dogs pooping in the snow (always a classic), pictures of all sorts of stuff from the last couple of weeks.

On the camera were pictures I have had to take of students for IDs. Those I could delete. So I clicked on one to delete and deleted them all. Auuuuggghhhhhhh. I am so unhappy.

Although I can't recreate some of the pics, I'll do my best to get the others retaken.

How can I possibly summarize?

I am feeling a little bit like ChaCha at the moment cause I got the blogger guilt. There is so much to write, but I have no time, and I'm kinda tired of being Debbie Downer. But in the interest of taking notes and letting those yearning to catch up on what the Diva is doing here goes nothing.

Well, I received an offer on the house on November 13th, finaled the contract on the 24th and closed on the 25th. I didn't dare pack before the closing because I really thought the whole damn thing was going to crash and burn. So, I ran around Wednesday like a mad thing closing, and then trying to take care of the deposit for the rental house (that was a nightmare in and of itself) The movers come Dec 1 and I have to be totally out by the 5th. My head is still spinning.

The buyer, aka the haggler, was a total pain. Feel free to guess why.

The house is almost totally packed, although I haven't taken care of the garage which I'm going to regret. I have book club tomorrow night (did I mention that I haven't read the book and that I'm leading the discussion? Yeah, good times.) So, it looks like I will be packing the garage Tuesday morning, as the movers are packing the house.

I have packed all of my eating utensils including the plastic stuff that I can't find because I packed it, realized I'm an idiot and then couldn't find the box. Shit, shit, shit.

I have a nasty rash on my right shoulder that friends have said is a stress rash. Would really like to get rid of that!

The crayon box (as I fondly refer to the new place) is going to need a new name soon. The lavender bedroom, microsoft blue bedroom and lime green bathroom have all been painted, thank you with my whole heart to K who helped me paint. The crayon red wall downstairs will be painted soon too. By next Sunday it will no longer look like a clown threw up in there. Go team.

The place is a lot smaller than the current residence, so I have been desperately trying to sell stuff on Craig's list. I've sold some stuff, but it would be really nice to sell a few more pieces. Money in the pocket, baby.

My back is throbbing, and I hurt in parts of my body that I didn't know could hurt. In fact, I am feeling very very old and trying not to hobble as I walk.

So, off to work tomorrow to finalize a few things while I pretend to actually do my job, ha ha ha and then off for two days to get myself moved.

So, I am terribly sad about leaving my house and my friends, but I know it is the right thing to do. I am changing my life, and this is the first step. I know it is going to be an uphill battle, and almost NO ONE believes in me, but I believe in me. . . and that is all that really matters.

Another trip with Blondie

Well, our adventures in Journalism conventioning have begun. We arrived yesterday afternoon. Blondie and I were greeted at the airport by the BFF. She, in case I haven't mentioned it lately, is the coolest. She brought Cranberry Juice (for my morning medicine routine) and crackers. And great big hugs which I have been needing desperately. Her very existence is God's gift to me.

Once my other friend, Mrs. Jostens arrived, we headed out to grab a taxi. Cab driver, a lovely man, managed to take our conversation on the beautiful fall foliage into a discussion of politics. We said, "Gee the leaves are beautiful" and he said, "They look better since George Bush left." huh.? He continued on his happy monologue regarding GB.

We arrived at the hotel, still confused by the ramblings of our cab driver which segued to his love of Hillary Clinton for standing by her man by the time we were exiting the car. We mentioned to the front desk personnel the strangeness of the cab ride, and son of a bitch if he didn't start chastising us about talking about politics in DC. Really?

The room is great. With three of us sharing, there was some concern re: size. It is great. sofa, two chairs, two beds and a desk and chair.

We went to a fabulous steakhouse in the W hotel. Sooo good. The hotel has a rooftop bar that is very hip, trendy and cool. (I'm lucky they even let me in.) Dinner was courtesy of Mrs. J. Thank you!!

This morning we got up and headed over to the convention. Today's cab driver rocked cause he knew where there was a 7-11 on the way!

Oh, and by the way, last night I was able to talk to the drummer. I've known I needed to gird my loins and just ask what the deal is. He confuses me, it seems liked he isn't all that in to me, but he does call and ask me out. So, yeah, not that into me. Totally awkward and uncomfortable and really no fun. Not to mention totally an ego killer and heart crusher. Yes indeed the good times continue to roll for the Diva.

Oh, the fun keeps coming

Tuesday, I got a phone call from the place keeping my storage.

Storage Dude: Ma'am have you been to your unit lately?
Me: No
Storage Dude: Well, there seems to be something seeping out of your unit. The lady with the unit next to yours said that there is seepage into her unit too.
Me: Seepage?
Storage Dude: Yes, seepage.
Me: Sigh. I'll be there today.

My first thought? Dead Body decomposing in my storage.
My second thought? I am watching way too much CSI.
Third thought? Dear Lord, Please stop now. I can't take much more.

So, I head over to the storage unit. Sure enough, when I arrive there is definitely seepage out of my unit. . . and across the floor of the hallway. Grreeeaatttt

I open the door with much trepidation. . . Good news: Not a dead body.

As it turns out, I think I had been there recently because I had to get the dog crate out of the unit. A box got put back sideways. It had a huge jug of hand soap. Thank you LORD it was at the bottom and it looks like the floor is not flat but angled towards the hallway, so I didn't ruin great amounts of belongings. I threw the box out and headed home. . . to check the contract and make sure that I wouldn't be paying to replace whatever was ruined in the next door unit. . . luckily non-toxic hand soap, not illegal. Just annoying.

Oh, and yeah, I'll be watching CSI: New York tonight cause I just can't stop myself.

An open letter

I have made a lot of bad decisions in my life. I get that. And if you told me how you felt based on my actions, I would accept it. Not lucky in love. Not a financial maestro. Shitty driver. Bitchy. Opinionated. ADD.

At the moment my heart hurts because I was judged by people who know me and decided that they trust me, but then they turned to a stranger who told them not to trust me and defined our relationship and convinced them of the truth of the new definition. I don't know if that is great persuasion or what it is, except a total crushing of my heart and soul. And, really, I'm not sure that I'm exaggerating.

I haven't asked for much from anyone. At least I don't think I have. I've asked a lot of my parents, letting the dogs, cat and I stay with them. Helping me with the house. I get that. I am totally appreciative of everything that they have done. I realize that a lot of people wouldn't be willing to do that much for their children.

I happen to be the only child living near them, and, quite honestly, I don't see them retiring to live with any of my siblings. All sorts of reasons for that, the most important being my dad is a total homebody and he's not going to want to leave their house, ever, let alone the town they have lived in for oh, over 30 years.

So, I guess to a certain extent I always thought part of why they helped (beyond the fact they love me, yes, I know that is the primary reason) is that they figured they would get a pretty good return when it was time. I watched my mom take care of my grandparents. I know the deal.

But mostly, as much as my family jokes about my being spoiled and such. I don't think I am selfish. I do try to do the right thing. I want to be honest, trust worthy and dependable. I guess that is why this hurts so much.

If someone looks at me, and said this is why I am doing this or that. OK. But to say you are going to do something I NEVER ASKED FOR and then turn around and pull the rug out from under me by saying not only are we not going to do what we said we would, and we aren't doing it because a stranger said to not trust you. Well, I'm not sure how the soul recovers from that.

So, the untold story unfolds. . . Part B

So, the meeting with MMT? Total car crash. Long and the short of it... She refused to accept any responsibility for, well, anything. In fact, a loose summary would be she feels that the only problem in the department is me, and that everything she has heard from everyone else is the exact opposite of what I said. Yeah, pretty much eradicates any need to continue conversing don't you think?

As horribly as I think she has been acting, as disappointed as I am in the person she is turning out to be, I am really sad that she is being this way. I really did think she would be a good department chair. I can't figure out why her "friend" in the department isn't trying to help her do a better job.

I'm not sure of what will happen, but I know that I'm pretty much tired of being treated like crap and of being spoken to in a condescending manner.

So, the untold story unfolds...Part A

*** This story has caused me much angst. Do I make the blog private so that I can write what I want to write or do I leave it public and try to censor myself. A tough call. It's almost impossible to not write about something that is taking up a significant portion of your life. It seems wrong some how. On the other hand, I'm not interested in dealing with the bs drama that comes from someone getting pissed that I'm writing what I think about events in the past. Unfortunately, the person about whom the next two posts are written appears to be just crazy enough that there is no telling what she would do if she saw this. And, since at one point we were friends, she probably knows the blog address. At any rate, as you can tell, I went ahead and wrote. I've tried to go back and delete enough to make it manageable to read and not to horrifyingly full of details. Not sure how successful I was on either point. Feel free to let me know.

Let's just take a moment to laugh at the irony that I have been cursed with annoying team mates ever since I arrived at my current job, but I've been lucky as far as bosses go. So, of course, now that Blondie has arrived, I am in a new department with the Mayor of Meantown. (MMT)

Another irony is that people were concerned that since MMT and I were friends, it would be a problem for her leadership abilities. There are problems, but I assure you that they have nothing to do with our former friendship. In fact, the friendship has been smashed into the dirt.

Within 2 days of school starting, she had become MMT. I mean she is condescending and pissy at every turn. I can't describe it any other way. I was in a car accident before school started, she didn't make any comment. Not are you ok, nothing. She has become one of those people that brooks no discussion and thinks any question is a question of her authority not a question of point. There has been excessive finger snapping (in faces) Thank God, not mine. I might have bitten her finger off. She does have a nasty habit of pointing to each person in the department to force responses.

So let's just sum it up with comments from others.
" Yeah, I don't know what it is but everything you say and do seems to upset her."
"Wow, what just happened? I didn't hear you say anything, and she just attacked you."
"Hey, I overheard the Mayor of Meantown talking to someone downstairs, she seemed to be bashing you without actually using your name."

Getting the picture? So, sure, I've talked to some people trying to figure out what the HELL is going on. At first, people would say, "Oh, just give her a couple of weeks, she'll settle in." They aren't saying that anymore. Now, it's just a lot of head shaking and references to staying low. I'm trying. I really am. Unfortunately she has a nasty habit of calling on each individual person in the department. I can keep my mouth shut, but I can't lie when spoken to directly. It makes it tricky.

At one particular department meeting (and Lord but there are a lot of them) the Mayor jumped down my throat like a deranged postal worker.

So, after THAT particular interaction I finally sent her an email.

Mayor,

I am sorry if I upset you today. I don't know what to say. I don't know what I did to upset you, but I feel like since the first week of school, you have been unhappy with me. I really am too stressed out to be able to have a conversation about this, but I want you to know I support you in being department chair, and our relationship is important to me. I am sorry if my stress comes off as a bad attitude or flippant towards you, it is not. I have too much to do. I understand the broadcasting idea is great for most of the department, it doesn't help me per se, it just adds to my work. I am happy to help Blondie to do whatever she wants to do and I will encourage her to do it. I want to be a team player, I am a team player, but I am having a hard time with people dumping things on me on a daily basis. I'm sure part of the problem is I'm starting to have the feeling that I've done something that causes you to doubt me or my ability to do my job.

Thanks,

The Diva

I would love to write her response, but let me just summerize.
1. She in no way acknowledged that she has been wretched to me.
2. She did however say that gosh, my stress does seem like a bad attitude.
3. She said how stressed she is. Did I mention that she has 4 of 8 periods off each day?
4. She offered to help. Now, multiple people have suggested I take her up on it.

1. Hmm, should I give her the 8 page form I was asked to re-create in Indesign because education organizations are bass akwards and there is no digital version of the form so that it can be completed on the computer. No, she doesn't know Indesign.
2. Should I give her the high school directory to do? Wait, no also in Indesign.
3. Should I get her to help the other schools in the district with their directories? No, she can't do that either.
4. How about the other requests I get on a daily basis from people needing help on this or that? Random little things that I can do, and I probably am the best person to ask, but I have no time for?
5. Should she meet with the vendors for me? The photography company? The yearbook company? The supply company?
6. The ID machine. I hate the ID machine. I should totally give that to her. Then she can make IDs for everybody and their freaking brother all ding dong day long.

Really, what she can do is GET OFF MY ASS. What I really want to do is send her an email : Dear Mayor, just to confirm, my email asked you to get off my ass and your email said ok for a little while, right?

I think you get the drift. Not to be condescending myself. But she doesn't know what busy is. And, sadly, as I try to figure out why she is so crazed, I realize there are a lot of reasons for her to be behaving badly, and odds are good things won't improve anytime soon.

At any rate, she has pretty much left me alone since that exchange. I've watched her treat other people horribly in the meantime.

I finally went to one of the assistant principals that I love. Oz. I know he likes her too. At any rate, I told him I was worried because she was just mean and she was alienating the department. That if I thought it was just me that she was being mean to, I would just suck it up. She is making multiple people miserable, so I felt like something needed to be said. She needs help. He told me I needed to talk to her. I told him I didn't want to talk to her. I felt guilty then agreed to do it. Crap.

In addition, we had a meeting last week about the academic planning guide and journalism courses. Suffice it to say that meeting didn't go very well. The whole conversation went around in circles and no one was listening to what I was saying. I was sick and tired and not in the mood.

I got a note from MMT Thursday evening asking to meet with me this week.I respond, that I actually wanted to meet with her and Oz, so we could do both at the same time.

I think I'm nesting

Seriously. There is something wrong with me. And, actually, no possible way I am nesting. I am, however, cleaning madly. I couldn't stop cleaning M & D's house all weekend. I mean scrubbing and cleaning.

Then I got to school today and started cleaning my office from the bottom up. I mean the classroom is a total disaster now because everything in the office is now in the classroom.

I have rearranged my computers, vacuumed under all of the cabinets and started putting everything away.

On the downside, I have been feeling like crap all day and now I just have the energy to type. No cleaning this evening.

How low can you go?

Well, as it turns out I can go pretty damn low.

Why is it that life can't work in such a way that only one freaking bad thing happens at a time? Why is it that it ALL hits at once? Like baseballs at a dunking booth, they keep flying at you till you are underwater head to toe.

Well, 300 pages of ad proofs arrived on Wednesday afternoon. For the uninitiated, that means that 8 ads managers have 72 hours to check all of the pages, work on all of the corrections that need to be made (and, yes, there are quite a few), and then print all of the pages (that takes forever because the files are huge because of the photos).

I've really been working towards getting my house sold. It has not gone as I had planned. (Translate that as house not sold. Grr) And that means my finances . . .they just get more and more dismal. I'm running out of things to give up. Why does money have to be such a monkey on my back?

I am, without a doubt, totally ready to get my life under control. I'm giving up credit cards. Let my screw ups be warning to everyone else. Credit cards are evil. The companies are even more evil. Credit cards are a sucking cesspool of trouble. I realize many might have thought I'd learn this particular lesson much earlier in my life, but hey, glad I am learning it now.

None the less, this is totally demoralizing. I wish I had never gotten myself in this position, I am still praying that I can sell the house which won't totally solve the problem, but it will absolutely help. I have made a budget (not pretty) and I am working like the devil to stay within it.

I'm moving back home next weekend. I am totally ready to be back home. I miss my little house, and my little existence in it. And, as it turns out, the dogs are not particularly good at behaving when left to their own devices for 10 hours at a time. I should have gotten photos but they only lasted two days before destruction began.

I came home Thursday to find they had eaten a book, done serious damage to a pillow and before the evening was out, Buddy sniffed around a plant, got the vine caught on his tail or paw or something and dragged it off the stand when he walked away . . . breaking the pot and getting dirt every where.

Came home the next day and they had killed an orchid and dragged dirt everywhere. Freaking fabulous. Every time I open the front door I hold my breath and pray whatever they have done I can fix.

I clean up, they destroy. Quite a symbiotic relationship.

Yesterday, my throat started hurting. I'm now taking Vitamin C like there is no tomorrow and gargling with salt water. Oh, and drinking lots of TheraFlu cause I believe, when in doubt, medicate.

Last night was the Hi-lites dance which I usually enjoy chaperoning. FYI Hi-lites is a girls' organization and the dance is a Sadie Hawkins. Last night? Not so much. The boys have begun this new thing where they dance by bouncing up and down like pogo sticks. And then they start running in to each other. It is really annoying. They bounced into me and now I have a lovely bruise on my right foot. I basically spent the night breaking up a mosh pit.

On the up side, once it was enough of a problem to cause us to tell the DJ to stop playing "bouncy" music, he played a song that got them going again, we said to stop, he changed the song, the kids got mad, they were all gone by 10:45 - woohoo!! (Dance didn't actually end until 11:30.

School in general has been beating me down. It is hard to describe, but basically I spend my days being beaten my ants. One by one small annoyances and itchy, but in masse horrifyingly painful. I have lots to do now, but I just had another cup o Theraflu so I'll be taking a wee nap very soon.

Good news: Things with the drummer are actually going well, but I don't want to jinx it, so that's all I'll say.

Ok, that sums up the greatest of my life. Back to your usual program.

You never know who is watching/reading

OK, so update to the conference from Hell and Twittering incident of 09. Turns out it was a way bigger deal than I had realized. By the end of the day Wednesay, I had an email from the principal requesting my presence.

I really like my principal. There is some stuff that he does that makes me nutty, but basically, a really great person who is good in a pinch. Since I find myself in many a pinch, this characteristic has proven particulary useful to me.

My guess is that 2 different people who sat at our “school’s” table at some point sent emails to the principal basically saying I was a bad rep of the school. I have to admit I was virulent in my unhappiness, but I’m not sure I said anything that was over the top horrible. The problem is that this particular organization seems to incite kool-aid drinkin’ if you know what I mean. If you’ve been drinking the kool-aid and someone then talks smack about it, I guess you get riled up your own self.

So, I’m taking my lumps on that one.

The twitter thing I still think is BS. So, my twitters will have to be private for a while.

In addition, Friday at the football game I got two different comments from two different people. One comment “Boy aren’t you the talk of the town right now”. . . greeeaaatttt. The second? from a principal at one of the other schools that said he heard about it from the VP of the organization whose fine program I was bashing. Crikey. Typical luck for me.

That, then got me thinking about the blog. I have certainly poured my heart, life and humor into this thing, and I would be really, really distraught if I had to delete it without having a chance to save it. So, I have actually begun the process of pulling everything off the site and reorganizing chronologically (instead of backwards chronologically) and making sure the pictures transfer over etc. It’s a lot harder than you might think. It’s also weird because there are sooo many pages. I am a verbal little monkey, I can say that.

Some of my old posts are actually hard to read, especially when I write about past relationships. Some are great. I had totally forgotten some of the stupid stuff that has happened to me.

I know I should be careful in what I write anyway because I don’t know who is reading it, and I don’t know how they are interpreting.

On the other hand, I’ve been life on the edge for a while now, so what the hell.

I can't make this crap up

So, Saturday, I have a home showing scheduled for the first time in THIRTEEN days AND the first showing since I dropped the price $10,000. Yeah, I'm not stressing.

On the plus side, I had recently gotten a St. Joseph statue from one of my favorite Catholics (with good luck of his own since this particular statue had helped several people sell their homes). The statue was buried Thursday upside down in the front yard as I was instructed was proper.

Saturday morning, I got up yippy skippy and went down to my house to make sure it was clean, lights on etc. After doing that, then off I went.

A little while later I get a phone call from one of my neighbors. Seems there is a woman on my front porch. She's dropped her stuff off and has begun trying to find ways in the home. She's probably not there to buy the house 'cause she's scruffy and rolling her own cigarettes. This just gets better by the minute. I'm close enough that I tell her I'm on my way there.

I arrive and see my neighbors across the street watching the scene unfold. How to I explain to potential buyers that I basically bought my house because of my neighbors? They totally rock. They are nice, fun, pay attention to what's going on in the hood, and they'll totally hang out with you to watch weird shit unfold.
Back to the story. The cops have been called and strange woman is in my back yard. I, of course, immediately begin heading back there. I hear my neighbor calling from behind me "Do NOT go back there." But it was toooo late, I was practically there.

Sure enough, there is a woman trying to get in the back door.

"Hi, may I help you?" I ask. It is important to be polite to potential psychotics.

"I lost my key," she said.

"No, you don't have a key," I said.

"I lost my key," she said.

"You don't live here, so you have no key," I said.

"But it's 711," she said. (Street number - have to admit I saw her connection immediately)

"I know, it makes me think of the convenience store, too," I said. "But it's not one."

"But like Chevron or Texaco," she said.

"I know," I said.

"I'm gonna buy this house," she said.

"Some how I doubt that," I said, "But you need to leave now."

"I don't want the cops to get me"

"Well, then you had really better get going because the cops are on their way, and you are trespassing."

At which point the cops arrive.

I go back across the street to the neighbors, so that a) my favorite neighbor can remind me I am a total idiot because I had no idea of how that woman would respond. Ok, fine, good point, and b) indeed, it was the real estate agent that called the cops because when the agent (with the cute young, viable home buying couple) arrived. The crankhead was already on my porch. She spoke to them a few minutes and then they turned and left without seeing the house. Fan-freaking-tastic.

I'm thinking hard, if I move quickly enough could I choke the shit out of the poor little wasted crackhead before the cops get me? How would it look on the front page of the newspaper "Ritzy school district yearbook teacher loses her shit and kills crankhead for screwing up home sale." Alright, fine. Wouldn't look good.

As I think of my various options, I begin to notice what the crackhead is wearing. . . and then I notice what I am wearing. Yeah, we're both wearing pink camo pants. I don't even know what to make of that little side note. Although I will add, mine were definitely cuter and they had rhinestones which I think add a touch of glam.

And then, as we wait for the female cop to arrive so that she can search el crackhead I start thinking that this, this, just has to go on the blog. The neighbors saw it in my eyes, because L immediately began saying, do not blog this. I, as you can tell, was totally unable to resist. This is too good. I mean really, how better to show great police protection than have TWO cop cars in front of your house? In the meantime, I had two showings on Sunday. One of the "feedback" responses was "client likes house, just not sure if she is ready to buy" May I present the weird stuff happens so you have stories to tell to great neighbors who will be there in a pinch with great police protection reason for buying a house?

Oh, this you won't believe

So, I work in a high performing district. The kids are go getters, most of the teachers are pretty high-end professionals. A by-product of that is that we seem to find new trends, old trends? and jump on bandwagons. Well, our current one is a doozy. Most of the high school went through this "training" process for 2 days this summer. Those of us unable to go this summer got to go this week and then some are going in January.

So, I have been, a little . . .bitter. The "training" is about making the class "engaging" designing a class/lessons/etc that the kids have ownership of, are committed to and paying attention to. Hmm, sound like a yearbook class anyone? I'm pretty sure I would have to totally screw my job up to NOT have all of that going on in the yearbook room.

At any rate, I've been twittering my lack of enjoyment. . . So, at the end of today our district's people got together to write "what we learned." Best part of that? Everyone agrees we've learned nothing, but we sit and work on coming up with dribble that they want to hear.

It is my educated guess that the people in charge of this conference went on to Twitter and maybe other "social networking sites" looking for comments about the workshop. Turns out they found some . . . but maybe not the warm-fuzzies that they were looking.

Turns out after most of the high school teacher's left the middle school teachers were talking (one almost in tears) about how the people leading the conference went up to them and said someone from our district was twittering negative things about their conference and it was unprofessional and it made all of us look bad. Really?

They knew it was me. The post that said, " Things went downhill suddenly when website I went to started playing country music loudly and I couldn't turn it off" EVERYONE in the room heard the music. Two presenters came over to help with sound. Trust me. They knew who I was.

My thoughts? If they want to go looking for comments, they should prepared to get said comments, good, bad and indifferent.

They have something to say, bring it. I didn't write anything I would say to them. I do think the conference is hellish. I'm not having any fun. Such is life.

Really? Picking on middle school teachers? Of course I got calls from 2 of the high school teachers that stayed to hear the middle school teachers letting me know. It's good to have friends.

AND the worst part is I made my posts private which plays right into their hands. I'm sure that is all they really wanted. For people to NOT find negative comments when they type in the name "schlectinheimer" (name changed to protect the whiney.) Bugger.

Best part: once again I started confession to those in charge because I dont' want them to find out from someone else that I did something. So, let the middle school AP know and the high school AP. Both laughed. Neither seemed surprised that I had gotten myself in trouble.

Totally annoying and stupid. That is how today was. Can't wait for tomorrow . . . twitters should be priceless

Contemplations on dating

Well, as I sit in a Gawdawful workshop/conference learning about how to make engaging classes, which I assure you isn’t happening here, I am contemplating what to write next on ye olde blog. My mind wanders and I think about dating in one’s 30’s and 40’s. And, I think about the things I need to remind myself of the most as I proceed into the murky waters of a dating relationship.
Speed, in either direction can cause fatalities. Clearly, moving too fast is a danger in and of itself. Historically this has been my vice. I go rushing into a relationship filled with the giddy joy of attraction. As it turns out, my “relationships” barely make it to the third date before crashing and burning, so I don’t deal with the undesirable by products of sleeping with someone early in the relationship. Yea, me.

It is an interesting situation to find myself with someone who moves shockingly slowly. I am beginning to realize that it is probably a product of his own concerns about making good choices etc, and I know it is good for me to work on slowing down. However, is there a point at which a relationship falls into inertia from lack of movement? I don’t think we are there, but I think it is worth noting as a possibility. I do appreciate his desire to go slowly. I think one of the hardest parts of dating is trying to get a guy to slow down. It is strange indeed to be wishing he would hurry the hell up.

Be real. My cousin, San Francisco, gave some good advice recently too. First, he made me laugh cause he said at our age men move slowly ‘cause they are trying to determine the level of crazy that they are dating… But the great piece of advice had to do with how easy it is for us to start relationships thinking the other person is fabulous and amazing. He thinks that it is important to start real and remain real. It became real for me when the Drummer told me how fantastic I am. That is really nice, but let’s be honest, there are lots of girls way better than I am. I know that, and I am ok with that. I bring my own uniqueness to the table, but I know that there are lots of girls more everything than I am.

Listen to your heart and not your friends. Oh, this is a hard one, isn’t it? (Especially for the extraverts.) I’m a talker. I need to talk through my feelings and thoughts. That means the BFF and the big sister and strategic others get to hear me process all of my relationships on an almost daily basis. I am lucky to have them and they give great advice. The BFF said it best though. Early on, she asked the question, “What does your gut tell you?” It is important to remember no matter what we tell others, there are pieces of the puzzle no one but the people in the relationship can know. Me, my gut and my heart give the best information and measure on a relationship. Just have to remember to pay attention.

Don’t be afraid. This, my friends, could be the rub. Especially if one has been dating for as long as I have, it is hard to not be fearful. Dating is hard. No doubt about it. I have always laughed at people who feel not having been married = less baggage. Paleezzeee. If anything, it means more baggage. Over 20 years of dating, I have dated a lot of freaks and developed some healthy walls for protection. Someone that has been married twenty years has one suitcase courtesy of primarily one person. Figure out what went wrong in that marriage, and you know their luggage. Me, gonna have to put some effort into figuring out the shit I’m hauling around.

I got some great advice from my friend, Sergio. I was telling him about the Drummer and my fears and concerns. He told me to let go. To enjoy the moments. Falling in love is a great thing, and I should enjoy myself. My sister, yougottawonder, said the same thing. Don’t be afraid. How easy is it, after years of dating and heartbreak, and dating and heartbreak, to hold myself in and not quite let myself go.

I wish I had looked up commitment phobia while I was dating the Yoyo. (As I entertain myself in the conference from Hell I am Googling all sorts of stuff.) I read through an article on commitment phobes, and lo and behold if the yoyo didn’t get a check mark by most of the descriptors. Could I have saved myself a lot of time, heartache and pain if I had realized accepted that I couldn’t change him?

Well, as my adventure with the Drummer moves forward, these are the thoughts that wander through my mind.

Annoyances from last night

I'm not sure if I can get across in type how annoying the entire evening was (except of course the part where I got to watch the drummer do his thing. Rhythm and arm strength. ; )

Met up at a friends, D. Another girl was already there. We shall call her Numnut cause she is the star of this particular show. Last girl showed, Wallflower. Lovely girl, but quiet and a bit of a watcher.

I don't even know how to describe the various ways Numnut annoyed me through the evening.

Actually it might be fun to go backwards. When we got in the car to leave the restaurant/bar, she almost immediately got on the phone. It's one o'clock in the morning, and she would rather call guys and wake them up than talk to the other 3 people in the car.

While on the phone with said guys, she squealed. And by squealed, I mean like a freaking pig, almost gave me a heart attack as I tried to drive through pouring rain without killing us.

As I pulled the car up to the door (I'm a polite driver, after all, it was raining) the waiter comes running up to Numnut. She walked the freaking tab. She tried to give a line about how she would never walk a tab etc etc, but as we waited for the waiter to come back, and D kept saying I thought those guys bought our drinks, Numnut said, "Oh, I heard the one say that he wasn't paying for our drinks." Um, then who exactly did she think was paying that tab if she wasn't?

I started trying to leave the establishment at about midnight. Two of the other three finished drinks and began acting like we were leaving. She made no move to finish her drink or to get her ass in gear. So, I finally got up and said, "I'm leaving, if any of you would like a ride home, I suggest you follow me."

I had been sitting quite happily in a booth with Wallflower. We couldn't really talk because it was so freaking loud, but I could see the drummer, I was happy. But, D at some point got a burr up her saddle and decided that we had to all be at the table they had barged in on right in front. Of course, my view? Totally blocked. Not happy.

As I prepared to sit my ass down at the new table, Numnut spills her red wine all over the table. So totally annoying.

On the trip to see the band . . .some of these beauties fell from her mouth. .
"So, tell me your story."
"You're 39? I've never known anyone that old that hasn't been married."


Weird conversation turns to boobs.
"Or you could go braless"
"Oh" I say, "never braless"
Giggle. That's an inside joke for the back row of the car. Really? Cause there are only 4 of us in the car. Twit.

Ok, that pretty much sums it up. Totally. Annoying. Stupid. Girl. Almost ruined my evening. Spectacular. Fantastic. Drummer. Makes. Evening. Better.

Excuse this break from regular programming

A couple of things happened this week that made me realize I need to take a step back from my bad self and my whining.

One, my friend PR (job, not initials) rode to work together Friday. She brought her devotional since she knew that I had the same one. The reading she was on had to do with prayers and learning to pray for God's guidance and not for specific things. That, in effect, he knows what the hell we need more than we do, and we should not fret and flail about, but trust that he is taking care of 'biness (as it were.) Seems particularly appropriate these days. In addition, PR was talking about a Bible study she did that started with praising God and really thinking about how many things we have to be grateful in this life.

The second thing actually happens fairly often and that is that I get all whiney and bratty and the BFF reminds me that I don't have things so bad. Man, do I love her.

Ok, so I'm going to take a moment to give a shout out to the world.

I am totally grateful for my family. Obviously I'm totally grateful for my parents, who much to their horror found themselves boarding a cat, two miscreant dogs and their youngest child for an indefinite amount of time. (It's ok, I've decided at the end of October, back to the house sold or not.) As crazy as they make me (and they do make me crazy, although I'm feeling confident I send them over the edge too), I know I am very, very lucky to have them. Siblings, same thing. Sure, I don't talk to two of them much, but I talk to You Gotta Wonder enough that it probably makes up for the lack of convo with the other two.

Ah, the animals. I know there are people out there who don't like animals (CANNOT EVEN IMAGINE), I know there are people content not having animals (Oh, how they are missing out) but I tell you there is no love and affection that compares to that of animals. Totally unconditional. They love with total abandon, and they think you are the bomb diggity. I know I am a happier being because of my pets. Even if the bad dogs are always doing stupid stuff (currently that would include eating pork chops off the counter - ah, oops, eating a spatula, running away . . . twice, and barking like idiots for no reason).

The BFF. Do I even need to say anything else? How in the HELL do people survive without a BFF? I can't even imagine. She keeps me grounded, is always there for me and makes me a better person. Yeah, can't do much better than that.

I am so grateful that I am healthy. Swine flu is out there, but it hasn't gotten to me yet. I am certainly feeling my age as time goes by, but I know that there are lots of people with lots of health conditions and I am very lucky that girls without gall bladders just have to eat healthy to stay healthy.

Friends, all those other people that keep me going (both real time and webtime). I do believe that people come and go in our lives for reasons, and I am very grateful for all of the people that have helped me learn and become a better person along the way.

And the job. Even when I am most hating my job, I still know how lucky I am to have a job that I totally love. Truly, one of the coolest jobs in the world. And, now that Blondie has arrived, it is back to being the kind of fun teaching was when I first started. Having a buddy definitely helps to make it even more of a great thing.

The house. I love the house. I am totally torn about selling, but how lucky that I even own a home and have a roof over my head. With everything going on in the news of job losses (even in education which I didn't even think was possible), home foreclosures etc, etc, I know that I am blessed.

The drummer. No idea of how long this relationship will last, but the fact that we are moving into month 3 is a miracle in and of itself. He is so straight-forward, honest, smart, funny, kind and cool that I can hardly stand it. Stepping back and just enjoying it rather than fretting and predicting and wanting to define the direction and speed is the hardest thing I am doing right now, but I think totally worth it. I am verging on being mad crazy for this one.

So, this post is a hats off to God. Thank you for all of the blessings you have given me, and thank you for putting people in my life that remind me of all of those blessings when I really need reminding.

And, now back to our regularing scheduled programing.

A little more than nothing, but not by much

I am staring at a blank page. I'm not sure of what I want, should, could write about. Sometimes it is difficult to not only know what to write, but to be able to write what I want. It is an odd and some what perplexing problem.

I could write about my directory issues; especially the teenager that refused to ask for help and therefore caused me extra work. Nope, kind a thing that could get a person in lots of trouble.

I could write about my coworker issues, especially the one that is mean to me but some how refuses to acknowledge that she has been wretched to me. Nope, she might very well read the blog, and all I really want is to be left alone. I don't want to start any trouble.

I could write about the drummer, but, again, the blog although my personal little journal is read by people that who may love me but want to crush my heart by bashing any male that enters my life. So, I don't want to write about how utterly fabulous I think the drummer is.

And that is how you write a second post about nothing.

The post in which I write about nothing

I would love to write about all sorts of exciting things happening in my world, but sadly, or more accurately strangely, there has been a pause in the action.

Car: I have it back. Hooray! (Did I mention that Blondie and I both have Ford Escapes. Her's is yellow, mine is blue. We have more school spirit than everyone : ) AND we have matching dents on our back left bumper. - we were meant to work together.)

Directories, although still not done, they have receded from the forefront of my troubles to being a slight bother waiting to torture me more but not at this moment. If that makes any sense at all. This probably deserves a post all of its own. I'm not even sure how I ended up in charge of all of the online student registration information getting from online to a format and design that worked for each of the 6 schools in the school district. I am eternally grateful that the Drummer, besides being a drummer happens to be one hellofa computer guy and could help me. I sucked him in by saying I thought I needed help with excel. Turned out to be a whole freaking lot more than that. He spent about 35 hours in one week on this stuff. Still shocked he didn't run like hell when he got the chance. Speaking of which . . .

The Drummer. Oh, he is confusing yours truly, that is for sure, but he is still around, still charming, still no action. I'd give details, but there are none to give at the moment. Technically I guess you could say we have only had 3 dates at this point. The last one being Saturday night, dinner and movie, but we spent a lot of time together working on the directories. I can't decide if that totally screwed the timetable up or what. Hard to tell.

The job. Ah, the job. Still adore Blondie cause she totally rocks, kids are doing great, but the adults still annoy and plague me. Same. As. Always. I do have my laptop back (finally) but we are having all sorts of problems with the computer lab which is annoying and might send one of my editors-in-chief into a total conniption fit if it doesn't get fixed soon.

The house. Well, still in my possession. It is getting showings, but no one has thrown a contact my way yet. It looks utterly fabulous and smells really good to boot. Pray, people. Pray. I would really, really like to move on. Not that my parents aren't lovely and doing an amazing job of tolerating the two dogs, the cat and me, but it is difficult none the less and I miss being surrounded by my own sheot.

Sabrina and Buddy are fabulous as always, although as mentioned the parentals aren't always totally convinced of that. They were boarded at Pappy's Pet Lodge last night to give M @ D a break (The non-stop rain combined with big dogs not getting exercise, not kind to anyone's nerves, I'll tell you that much.) At any rate, I pick them up and they got a little doggie report card. Behaved well, ate most of their food, were a blast : )

Cat is happiest when the dogs are gone, what else can I say.

My main goal this weekend is to find the keys to the storage unit. They have to be somewhere . . .now I just need to determine where somewhere is.

Tempus Fugit

As usual when it has been a while since the last post and I have a lot to write I find myself resorting to the categories. So, in no particular order. . .

Car – Well, the good news there is actually in several layers. One, I have the greatest insurance agent ever. When I tried to reduce my coverage and raise my deductable, he told me no. (He knows me well, and probably figured I’d regret that at some point.) So, I still have my $250 deductable, rental car coverage and they did not total the car out. Broken windshield, wounded bumper and hood, and the real damage money wise . . . the stupid airbags.

It wasn’t that the damage was so extensive but that the car isn’t worth that much and they are only willing to go so high in repairs. Oh, and my diamond tennis bracelet that broke during the accident . . . not covered. Service King has told me the car should be ready some time this week. I am ready to have my car back! Fun side note: I found out today that Blonde (new newspaper adviser . . . drives a yellow Escape. Put her yellow by my Blue one and we are school spirit all the way!!)

School – I once again started the year off with a bang by getting a migraine Monday evening. It lasted through Tuesday AND Wednesday which never happens. I was popping pills like nobodies business. I’m lucky my liver is still functioning at all. Wednesday afternoon I got on the sub system request to see who I might be able to call if I still had a migraine on Thursday. I didn’t see anyone, so I got off. Turns out I had put the request in anyway. I showed up to school on Thursday, but I already had a sub . . . so I went home and slept, and slept, and slept.

School politics – This is always fun to cover. On the plus side, I adore Blondie (newspaper adviser) and JH (stucco sponsor). In that respect, I am very happy these days with school. Dept chair has left me alone although I think there is still great weirdness there. Not sure of what is going on or why she has been nastyish to me, but I guess if I can be left alone I should just be grateful for that because she appears to want to hound my Axx. The assistant principal that hates me continues to hate me, but the one that loves me continues to love me. All things remain the same there . . .

Home – I don't think I've shown the photo of the amount of crap I threw out when I cleaned the garage. In addition, there was paint on the wood floors EVERYWHERE. My poor mom and I worked our way through the house scraping a small portion of the floor at a time. I still find things that need to be done every time I walk through the house, but . . . Well, that bad boy is on the market!! It looks beautiful.(I believe my little tour proves it!) It’s a shame you can’t smell it because it smells damn good too . . . like cupcakes. Very, very expensive cupcakes. I don’t think it showed AT ALL this weekend, which totally stresses me out, but I guess I’ll try not to freak until it doesn’t show next weekend. Then look out world.

Current living arrangements – The day I was going to arrive at Mom and Dad's with the dogs in tow I realized that I had lost the keys to the storage unit that had the dog kennels in them. There was no freaking way that I was going to NOT have kennels, so I made a quick trip to the pet store to get portable kennels. Mom also made it clear that she did not want the dogs on the bed . . . the dogs were slow to appreciate the sincerity of her desire. Evidence as seen below of their intentions. Trust me, those have since changed. If I could describe the vigor with which my mother has gone after my precious dogs to show them who is master in that household, you would die from laughter. Anyone who knows my mother has of course wisely surmised that she is winning the battle. Dad is hanging in there by a thread. For some strange reason my dogs have always adored my dad. Every dog I have ever had has adored him. He ignores, speaks harshly to them, etc, but they still follow him around. No idea of why.

As a side note, last week I arranged for the dogs to be boarded for the second week so that I wouldn’t have to worry about them. I got a call on Tuesday that Buddy had kennel cough (contagious) and I needed to pick him up from school. Sigh.

In the meantime, it hasn’t actually been bad. I’ve had to work so much that I haven’t been home a lot, but I’m trying to walk the dogs when I can, clean up after myself and generally not be a pain to live with. Dad still loves the TV to be at full volume all night, but I put my IPod on and it’s not so bad. I am still praying the house sells quickly so my little menagerie can return home, but my parents are being totally gracious and I am forever grateful that they are letting us stay with them. It was also really nice when I wanted to die most of last week to get the TLC.

Boy: Oh, my. I say to you. Oh, my. The drummer is awesome. He opens the car door for me every time and waits for me to walk in front of him. He hasn’t annoyed me yet. At all. Sure, technically Saturday night was our second date, but we met at a friend’s house for dinner, I’ve been to see his band play twice, saw him at a pool party and went to his house last night to get computer help (I love, love, love that he is a drumming, computer geek!). So, we’ve seen each other a fair amount AND we talk on the phone for hours when we get talking. He moves at a turtle’s pace which makes me a little crazy, but I suppose I should be grateful that he is taking his time (read this as he is a gentlemen and moving slowly in THAT way.)

There are 100 reasons why I like him, I mean LIKE him as a person beyond the fact that I think he is really cute, and I’m totally enamored with him. No need to get all dribbly here, but I think this one has some serious staying power.

How to put it in words

WARNING: The following post is really just sad pathetic whining about an
existence that is totally and completely of my own making. I know this, I'm just
whining, cause I can.

How can I possibly put into words how utterly crappy everything is going? I take one step forward and two steps back. I am so tired I can hardly think. Just when I think I see a light at the end of the tunnel . . . it flickers and goes out. I feel like a little beat up puppy on the side of the road looking around trying to figure out who is going to kick me next. Pretty much the whole post is this whiney so you might now want to keep reading. Don't say I didn't warn you.

The list of things to do does appear to be getting shorter, but I tell you what is left on the list is a total beating, and everytime I turn around I see more that needs to be done. I can't put the house on the market until I have things like the front door looking good and, say, DOOR HANDLES on the doors. I realized two days ago that I have a corner of a kitchen cabinet that Buddy used to work on his chewing techniques. So, that has to be fixed.

So, yesterday was day 3 of long torturous meetings. I have a coworker who I swear is determined to get into power plays with me and exert her authority. I have no idea of what it is about but I know that Scooby is now gone, Blondie (who I love is in his place). So why now do I have to deal with someone new who appears to just want to jack with me?

At the end of the day I headed home. Of course I had to take a trip to Home Depot, make some exchanges, get more mulch for the backyard and that kind of thing.

I got to the parentals at about 8:30 or so. (Once the house was cleaned it was just better to not be here to keep it clean.) Mom had left me a message earlier that Dad had gone by my house and set off the alarm. Ok, no problem. Except that Dad was PISSED and vibrating with unhappiness that I had the audacity to forget to tell him the alarm had been set. So we got in a bit of a screaming match at which point I started crying. And crying. And crying.

I went to sleep crying. Clearly, I was getting close to the end. I got up early and headed out to school so that I could try to get some work done before heading to meetings again. As I sat in the morning meeting, again started spontaneous crying. Really a little creapy and kind of scary, I'm sure.

I left school at about 11:30 so I could go to the bank and get the money to pay the painter and house cleaner before heading over to a store to pay for the rest of my handyman's bill.

I left the bank and headed down Mockingbird Lane. . . wait for it. . . wait for it. . . so I don't know where my brain was, but light turns red, first car stops, second car stops, third car with driver not paying attention (yours truly) nails second car. Airbags pop, air is filled with smoke and I think, wow I'm screwed.

So, first driver et al, totally ok, second driver a little whiney, not even driving his car, P.O.S. and my car . . . evetually towed away. I have pictures, but I'm too tired to figure out how to get them over to the blog now. My diamond bracelet broke. I'm totally bummed about that, and, of course the airbags exploded and the car now sounds funny.

On the phone for an hour sweating as the really, really nice lady with Farmers took my report and then stayed on the phone as we called 5 different Enterprise rent a cars and the tow company. (I pretty much cried through all of this too.)

So to the rent a car place and then to Service King where my lovely service person reinterates what the Farmers lady said which is due to the damage that appears to have occurred a claims adjustor will look at the car and then determine if it will be considered totaled. I, of course, can't afford for the car to be totaled because I don't have any money, and I sure as shit won't qualify for any loan. Spectacular.

Headed back down to Dallas to take care of my debts, back to school to get some stuff done (Yeah, I guess I could take it as a positive that I missed the afternoon meetings, but I bet I get punished for that some how) and then back to my house to work, water and wait for Lorenzo the painter to meet me. He said he would be here between 7:00 and 7:30. . . I'm betting that he doesn't show on time.

Cause that is the way that my life is going right now. Ok, that's about all I got. Still tired beyond all recognition. Only now I have added my entire body is completely sore. It was sore before the accident so it is hard to tell how much of it was just from everything I've been doing, and how much is new. There is a ton that needs to happen before school starts on Monday. There is ton that needs to happen before I put the house on the market (obviously not today as I had hoped). And I am nothing but a mass of exposed nerves and I am standing dangerously close to the cliffs of insanity.

Oh, and I can't really bear to talk to anyone because I just want to start crying. That's just a fun little sidebar to my existence.

Why must my life be a cosmic joke?

T24 and counting until school starts in the morning. I am not as far along on house prep as I would have liked, but I am much farther along than I thought I would be at this time last week. I'm still hypervenilating, just not quite as much.

I rented the power washer and I think the house looks better. But I also did the back deck, and it looks FANTASTIC . . . well, except for the 5 ft side board that I apparently forgot to do. oops. It was a hellofa work out. Totally tired by the end of the day, I went to bed by 7pm and slept until almost 7am.

Friday was an interesting day. M & D came and helped some more (Bless their poor worn out hearts.) Dad worked on the closet door that wouldn't shut because of the new threshold. He stained the many new thresholds in the house and did various other odd jobs. Late in the day, he turned his eye to the kitchen. I had bought a new faucet for the kitchen, and D said he thought he could install it. The bad news is that about half way through he commented that he had forgotten how limber one needed to be to do plumbing. Water started dripping heavily onto his face (and hearing aids) . . . then he started feeling sick.

In the end, I called roto rooter out and got them to install it because there was a lake forming in the bottom of the cabinet. I had to trade out the faucet and we won't even discuss how much the $50.00 faucet cost to install. Yikes. Totally should have been a plumber!!

I had a date Friday evening, so I started getting ready at about the same time my sorry ass phone started screwing up. It was in a perpetual "hot sync" to the computer although it wasn't connected to the computer. I was going online trying to trouble shoot etc doing everything I could.

Before the drummer had even arrived to pick me up, the phone was totally dead.

Ah, but the drummer. He doesn't have a cell phone, and I'm not that sure he's a technofiend even if he is in the technology biz. Hmmmm I say. Luckily he has all sorts of other characteristics to redeem him. (For one, he seems to really like my dogs which does make him a standout compared to most of you yahoos.) We had a really nice time, and the date lasted about 6 hours. Suffice it to say I was very tired in the morning. No next date scheduled, but I am hopeful . . .

I also had a painter coming, a SOD installation scheduled, my parents were swinging by and I had no phone. Auuuuggghhhh.

Luckily I could twitter big sis on the computer and she then called the parents to let them know what was up. I just had to pray no one else was calling to confirm before arriving. Especially because in the end I lost all messages left for me between Friday evening and Saturday at about noon.

I went out to get the phone worked on as soon as I could, of course, as you would expect, phone no go. When I arrived they needed to see my driver's license. Had I remembered to get it out of the other purse from the night before? No, of course not. So, I had to go all the way home to get it and then go back. In the meantime, they don't even sell the battery to this phone any more, and the guy was pretty confident that it was the phone itself that was messed up because they have a history. As we all know, I hate that phone with a passion, so I wasn't suprised by the info.

I am mildly sick to my stomach at getting the new phone before I sold the house, but the thought of getting a cheaper phone just to turn around and get this one 2 months later didn't seem much smarter. So, on the upside, spending money made my stomach hurt. That's new and different.

Back on the farm, the painters almost immediately informed D that I needed to buy more paint (never mind that the guy that gave me the bid said he would buy any extra paint that was needeed) so I had to go to Home Depot. Because of that I missed the window to get to the bank to get the money to pay the painters. Luckily they didn't ask for the money yesterday, but I'll hae to work that into the schedule for Monday.

The SOD got laid, but it turns out there wasn't enough, so I'm going to call the guy and ask WTF how did it get so off and then I've got to try to figure out how to make it look less obvious.

The painter I hired didn't actually do the painting, two of his lackeys did. But they didn't get everything done that they were supposed to do, and now I'm really worried about the paint being dry etc when the cleaning is done on Tuesday.

My friend is coming over today, and she'll spend the night and go to Convocation tomorrow from my house, so after church my plan is to go through the house carefully figuring out exactly what I have left to do.

OH and I still need to
lay the stepping stones in the backyard,
buy paint to touch up the master bedroom (what, another trip to Home Depot?! oh goody),
do laundry,
take stuff to the parental's house,
call the electrician (I have a light fixture in the dining room to hang),
get all of my stuff to go to the dump to the curb,
clean the blinds
and make another trip to storage although there is NO room, so I'm not sure of how that will work.)

I'm tired just looking at the list. Especially since it really all has to be done today. No time for blogging people. Gotta go.