Hypothetically Speaking...

I tended to just squeak by with B's and C's in school, unless the teacher required absolutely no work, because then I'd get an A just for being there and contributing to the conversation. I blame laziness, and the fact that when I get overwhelmed by something, I ignore it. This has caused many many hours of procrastination and paper-writing all-nighters. And sometimes it just caused many many hours of procrastination with the end result of, well, nothing to show.

This annoys a lot of people. It especially annoys the type of people who are hard workers and overachievers and who spend weeks on a paper that I only spend a night on, and we still get the same grade.

And if we don't get the same grade, I'm usually satisfied with a C or a B because I know that I didn't put shit effort into what I wrote, and that I probably deserve it, and that "Average" or "Above Average" isn't so bad when you consider there are people who actually try, but who just aren't good writers, and their hardest work merits them a C.

In college, one of my flatmates and I took the same class in which the final paper had to be a 12-page summary of everything that we had learned during the semester. After about 6 pages, I got bored with writing and decided to call it quits. No summary, no spellcheck. I figured that since I only wrote half the paper, I was deserving of a 50%. This didn't please me, but my desire to ignore what overwhelmed me outweighed my desire to actually raise my GPA. End result: I got an A with the comment, "You left some things out, but overall, great paper!" while my friend, who wrote a complete paper, got a B+.

Fast forward to this past semester, when I took my final class for my special ed certification. It was a graduate class, and I had had the professor 2 or 3 times before, and each time the syllabus included the same types of assignments which I found useless and tedious. I considered the fact that this professor was disorganized, too busy, and still wasn't sure what my name was (in a class of 12), and I decided to just not write the final paper. I got an A in the course. This is a higher grade than I received when I actually did all the work.

I'm not particularly proud of being a slacker, but something inside of me feels, oh, I don't know, sort of "nanny nanny boo boo" when I beat the system.

And if I had actually put effort into getting an education, I might have been able to come up with a phrase more sophisticated than, "nanny nanny boo boo."

I should save this for Valentine's Day...

TheBoy tells me once in awhile, usually after a couple drinks, that he wants to marry me one day. This usually causes me to hear Squints'* voice in my head going, "for-ev-ver... for-ev-ver... for-ev-ver..." because although I love him and can't imagine myself with anyone else, god, marriage is for good, and I can't think about doing anything in my life for the rest of my life. Most teachers work for about 30 years, and even that sounds like an eternity to me, and my grandparents were married for 50 years before my grandfather died, and holy shit what if we live to be 100!!!

But this morning, here I am, sipping my coffee, fooling around on my laptop, watching the Food Network, and Alex has fallen back asleep on the couch, and this happens every weekend and I love it and I can't imagine that I'd prefer any other kind of lazy Sunday morning, and especially not with anyone else.

* from The Sandlot, a movie I cannot flip past when channel surfing.

Chopping Onions Makes Me Weep

I spent most of my day yesterday in tears because of work-stuff. I don't want to get into too much detail on here, but for the most part, a parent is accusing me of causing injury to her child during a restraint, when in actuality, we were restraining him to prevent injury to himself or someone else. And fuck you Lady, because hi. Remember this?


That's where your son bit me.
Also? You forgot to pack lunch for your kid yesterday. Two already-eaten bags of chips and a Gogurt from the day before don't count.

*Sigh.*

Anyway, I'm in better spirits today. Yesterday I was all destrought and depressed and scared and all I wanted to do was sit and cry. I missed Alison's birthday party and Christine's bowling extravaganza (heehee) and I layed on my couch at watched my DVR'd episode of Grey's Anatomy and went to sleep.

I woke up today with a clearer mind, and instead of a Woe-Is-Me attitude, I've got a Fuck-You-Bitch-You-Suck-As-A-Mom-And-That's-Why-Your-Kid-
Is-In-My-Class-In-The-First-Place one.

She is not ruining my weekend.

*****

In my everlasting quest to Even Things Out between TheBoy and me (who pays for everything all the time because he knows I can't afford to), I am going to attempt to cook him dinner tonight. I'm making pork loin with rosemary, red-wine risotto with peas, and asparagus, possibly with some fresh lime juice. I have never cooked any of those things before, but it's worth a shot.

Of course, My Thing will be cancelled out by Alex's Thing tomorrow when he makes me breakfast (cheese omelette, hash browns, sausage and/or bacon, and probably some kind of bread item), and he'll still be on top.

(Heh. My Thing. Alex's Thing. He'll be on top...

Sorry. If there is one thing I've gained from my relationship with TheBoy (other than a Burberry jacket), it's to appreciate adolescent male humor.)

Update: The pork loin came out fantastically (woot woot to my meat thermometer!), and the risotto was also fantastic, even though I didn't have any wine (?!) and just used extra broth instead and it sat for awhile because I cooked it too early... The asparagus was mucho overcooked, but that was okay, because when you've got meat and carbs, do you really need veggies?

Anyone? Anyone?

Are any of you subscribers to Netflix? I want to add some people to my "Friends" so I can spy on what people are watching... If you are, please email me your info and I'll send you a request!

Back from Beantown

Alex and I went to Boston this past weekend to visit his brother. It was too short, but it was fun, save the whole "getting there" part, in which:

• I was yelled at by a security officer as I walked through the metal detector; I was actually accused of killing the man by forgetting to take my outerwear off (Jess, in the airport, with the Burberry scarf!)
  
• our flight was delayed an hour
• the gate was changed and so the guy at the desk told us we had missed the flight altogether ("Oops! Looks like you two kids have missed your flight! Har har!") (we missed a flight to Boston, but not our flight to Boston)
• the lady at the gate check-in told our entire flight that if we didn't hurry the fuck up and put our shit away when we got on the plane, they were going to cancel the flight altogether, you motherfuckers (because somehow the fact that they were late to start with meant that we had to rush)
• we were only privy to an "Express Beverage Service," which basically meant that we got no tiny packets of airline snack mix (which now includes bbq soy nuts instead of peanuts to save those with peanut allergies, and bytheway thanks for considering those of us with soy allergies), and that they just ran down the isle with a shaken up can of soda and sprayed it at us as we held our mouths open (and shut our eyes)

Once we were there, though, it was good times all around. I found it funny that Boston is kind of like a characature of itself: there are actually stores with names like, "Beantown Motors" and the place in the mall food court where I bought my lunch was called "Boston Chowda." But most of all, it was nice and relaxing and we got to eat and drink and shop, and really, what more can you expect from a nice weekend away from home?

The flight home was much more relaxing, too. It was less crowded, which meant that Alex and I could have a seat between us and his broad shoulders weren't invading my space and crushing me against the seat or pushing me into the isle to get my elbows banged by the beverage cart. And also we got a whole soda and two packets of airline deathmix!

*****

Grocery store quirks: I empty my items onto the belt in the order/grouping in which I'd like them bagged. I get annoyed when the cashier doesn't scan like-things together, and so they appear separately on my receipt (ex. yogurt, yogurt, yogurt, string cheese, yogurt).

Recent fortune cookie opened while sharing a side of the booth with Alex*: Stop searching forever; happiness is just next to you.

* No, we're not that corny-- his dad and brother were sitting across from us.

Suds

There is only one thing I don't like about my apartment, and that is the lack of washer and dryer. I hardly did my laundry at my parents' house, because god forbid I walk up and down the 12 stairs a couple times. But now it's even worse, because not only do I have to walk up and down 12-or-so stairs, I also have to walk outside, around to the side of the building, unlock the laundry room door, and *gasp* pay $1.25 per teeny-tiny washerloadfull... plus drying. It's annoying, and I always feel like that "I forgot to add the fabric softener!" commercial.

So I'm leaving for Boston tomorrow*, and here I am, at almost 8pm, just starting my laundry because I have absolutely nothing to wear. Not even underwear. I went through all the comfy stuff, through the thongs, and today I had to go with none. That's how I know it's time.

I think I will one day cause my aide to have a heart attack. She has a special schedule for her laundry: 24-year-old son's work clothes on Monday, whites on Tuesday, colors on Wednesday, etc., until Saturday when she does all of her ironing at once. (She gasps in disbelief when I mention things like, "I had no more clean underwear today so I had to wear a thong." I kept the whole Freebird incident to myself.) Of course, this might just be because I gave her a little TMI, but anyways I admire her commitment to a pristine house, and actual clean clothes that she didn't just spray with Febreze and run through the "Fluff" cycle. Speaking of which, I miss the Fluff cycle, but the absence of one made me purchase a new iron, which I put a lot of research into before buying and absolutely love. You know. As far as irons go.

* Please don't burgle me when I'm gone...

*****

I got take-out Mexican for dinner (like from a real restaurant, not Taco Bell) and I am terribly disappointed. That might be because I waited an hour before eating it and now it's all cold, or it might be because I don't like enchiladas, and yet I keep ordering them anyway. Either way, I'm annoyed that they didn't throw in the usual chips and salsa, because along with the soup, which was pretty good, that would have made a nice meal. Note to self: Next time, just order soup and a half quesadilla.

*****

I was kicked in the shin today by a student. It still hurts, and there's a nice little bruise there.

*****

Crayola Jelly Beans? Not as "feel like a kid again" as they seem they'd be. Jelly Belly still reigns supreme.

*****

I fell asleep last night during the president's address. Not only is he a moron, he is boring and a poor speaker. I prefer the Today Show's summary and commentary any day.

I always feel like somebody's waaaatching me...

I got to work today with a welcoming email,

Jessica, I will be observing you during reading today. See you then.

Fuck.

So I'm unprepared, my aide is out sick, which sets my kids off anyway, and wouldn't it HAVE to be today that Diego* came in without his meds.

I guess the lesson went okay, if you don't consider the fact that Diego spent the whole time humming, antagonizing other kids, throwing things off his desk, refusing to do work, and giving me dirty looks.

Although those might also be the reasons that my observer, the assistant principal, took him out of my classroom in the middle of the freaking lesson.

I'm not sure if this reflects poorly on me, after all, he knows what kind of kids I teach. But god, I've been stressing about the approch of this observation for over a month, and now that it's over I'm still not relaxed about it.

And hi? To top off a day that just got shittier after that, I got a phone call from the reading coach that a new student moved into district and is considered a "non-reader" and that I'll be getting him. Awesome, because I definitely want to add another desk/air missile in my classroom.

Needing a beer, but not wanting to drink alone.

* I know this isn't in keeping with my whole [Standout characteristic]Kid naming system for my students, but really, this name fits him best.

*****

For the past two days, all I can hear is my neighbor, out on her balcony, smoking and coughing. The coughing is not typical, but god, you'd think a person would smoke a little less when hocking up a lung, for viral reasons or otherwise. And also? Because it's annoying to her neighbors.

1 Tequilla, 2 Tequilla, 3 Tequilla, Floor!

I woke up at 6 o'clock Sunday morning naked and face-down on the bathroom floor. I'm not sure quite what time I went in there, but my best estimate is sometime between 1 and 2.

That's what a few glass of wine will do to me.

I wonder if I will ever come to an age where, at the middle of Glass Two, I say to myself, "Self, you know that if you drink another after this one, you will wind up naked and face-down on the bathroom floor, so stop when you hit the bottom."

The Threat of the Hangover always seems to stay with me for a few weeks, and then somehow it gets forgotten again. New Year's Eve, for example, I hardly drank at all. I even asked for a cup of coffee because I knew I had started early and still had a couple hours to go.

Saturday night though, I did not have such foresight. We went to a country club for TheBoy's Work Party, and around Glass Four, Alex encouraged me to go up and DanceAttack his boss, who hates to dance, and consequently summoned his wife to come over and save him. (Note: Boss has told Alex that if he ever breaks up with me, he is fired.)

Also? We left the party at 11:30, and hit a bar with FriendandWife for another drink.

Fast Forward to Bathroom Floor, because I'm fuzzy on all the details in-between. (I am picturing Wayne and Garth doing that "dodododo dodododo!" Dream Sequence thing...)

*****

Around 11, Alex left to get stuff for breakfast, and he returned with roses and candy to make me feel better, and he made me an omelette and hash browns and a crossant.

I could get used to this. Almost makes the Hangover worth it...

Welcome the new year... Bond style!

At least, that's what we did.

This New Year's Eve was spent at the Continental Mid-Town in Philly with Christine and HerBoy, and if I do say so myself, it was an awesome time. Check out the evidence (aka sub-quality camera-phone taken picture):



Yes, friends, those are go-go girls you are seeing. Alex and Tony enjoyed them immensely, while Christine and I just felt that they weren't so cute in the face, and that the gold body paint didn't do them any favors. But whatev.

I'll tell you though, the very best part of my weekend was that I got to spend the whole thing with TheBoy. Usually, Alex only gets off on Thursdays and Sundays, which obviously does not match up with my schedule. Match that with the fact that on most nights he is working until 9:30, and my bedtime of Between 10 and 11, and we don't see each other all that much. This week, however, he was off his regular Sunday, PLUS today, and so we've pretty much been playing House since Saturday night. I found out that TheBoy makes a wicked good cheese omelette, and also that spending so much time with him makes it even harder to watch him go home.

Last Year's Resolutions:

• lose weight (or "get healthy," as some of you might pretend that is the real reason for eating better foods and exercising, and not the fact that you want your ass to look better in jeans)
• talk less about myself and listen more about others (in other words, I will always make sure to turn any comment made by any person into something about myself, and be sure to always respond to people with, "That reminds me of the time I..." and "Oh yeah, that happened to me once and..."
• do my capstone project by May so that I can really actually get my reallyreal pieceofpaper Master's degree
• stop living with my parents (because, really, what is more attractive and admirable than a 25-year-old living with Mom and Dad?)
• like guys with whom I am compatible and who show an interest in me, and will not choose the ones who keep me guessing as to their feelings for me and I will not turn into Crazy Girl while trying to be aloof and pretend like I don't care

I guess two out of five is okay, but two out of four would be better.

This year:

• The weight thing, as always was and as will probably always be
• Read at least 1 book per month
• Put more effort into my job (i.e. turn in my lesson plans on time, stick with those plans, stay around after the kids leave and prepare for the next day so I'm not running around like a headless chicken for 6 hours)
• Capstone