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.