Vacation

One of the great things about working in a school is school vacation. (One of the sucky things about being an ed. tech. is that it is unpaid...) This week, I'm trying to kill too many birds with one stone, I think. Driving to Boston tonight to see Dana (and have a passable pint of Guinness), Connecticut tomorrow for Annmarie's birthday, and then into the big City for a couple days. I'm pretty excited - I've never been to New York. Empire State Building, Times Square, Central Park, Bloomingdales....it's gonna be great. We're going to try and get tickets for Wicked, but I think it's a longshot.

In other news, I'm oddly resigned to the fact that there will be no NHL this year. I think my life has been so hectic over the past few months that I haven't had time to notice the absence of my favorite sport. Or pro hockey, anyway. I've been watching quite a bit of college hockey...go BLUE! At any rate, Chad and Shawn brought this site to my attention today, and I have to say, why the hell not? It's not as if it is the NHL trophy...it is a trophy that happens to be awarded to NHL teams. Also? I love the Stanley Cup wedding cake. Maybe my future husband will be a hockey fan...

Congratulations Vim and Joe!!

Valentine's Day

Only in Maine...would one's Valentine's Day involve a frozen driveway, a 4x4 truck getting stuck in said driveway, a winch, a tree across the road, a dead battery (because of the winch), and the truly Maine word "dooryard". (As in, "I hate this f-ing dooryard in the winter.")

Shmeg-kicking!

As I write this, there is bright blue sky outside the window, but big, fat flakes of snow are mysteriously floating around in the air. Interesting.

One of the most satisfying things about the winter months, particularly the later winter months when everything is all dirty and slushy is kicking off that frozen snow/mud/ice buildup that accumulates behind your tires on the running boards. I think shmeg is the appropriate word to use here. I walked out of the bank yesterday after depositing my meagre check and noticed that the old mercury sable had some pretty serious shmeg issues. I kicked at it and watched with an immense feeling of gratification as it fell to the snowy parking lot and broke apart. I drove off feeling much better about myself.

I also went to mass last night, as I missed Ash Wednesday services. Father Mower immediately capitalized on the guilt factor associated with my non-ashy forehead this week by announcing before mass that the three Ash Wednesday services were very well attended, indeed. For the Lenten season, the church has been cleared out of anything even remotely suggesting a festive mood. The overall effect is dark wood, dimly lit chandeliers (although we might just be trying to save on the energy bill), and a pretty severe swath of purple cloth behind every statue. Three shades of purple behind the crucifix. Needless to say, I was feeling quite somber as mass began.

And then I looked at the music. It was completely in Latin; dark, monotonous medieval chants our music director dug out of some crumbling European abbey. Music such as our normally happy little parish has never seen before. What with all the...darkness in the church and everyone singing in a dead language, I had to sporadically reassure myself that this was indeed the year 2005. Well done on creating the mood, music guy. I was feeling the pain of the forty days and nights in the desert. Or maybe it was the pain of four days without cheese. Thank god I didn't give up Cherry Coke!

And lastly, I'll leave you kids with a conundrum. When one's ex-boyfriend (with whom one is still friends but has not been romantically involved with for quite some time) asks one over to his house on 'Monday night' (also Valentine's Day) for dinner, champagne, hot tub and possibly a little PBR, what is one expected to think?

Talk amongst yourselves and get back to me, because I'm at a loss here.

Frustration

I am trying to get things sorted out today (another snow day) that I couldn't otherwise get done on an 8-5 workday with only a 20 minute break. I know I still owe UCF some money for the two somewhat lackluster courses I took from them last semster. I go online to look at my account, and it tells me that those two classes cost me $6,817.88. That's 3,408.94 per class or 1136.31 per credit. For a glorified state school. Who apparently have their heads up their arses. And because I was involved in a grant program with partially paid my tuition, and I have to pay them back as well, my account is so screwed up, the woman I FINALLY got to talk to after like 15 minutes of menus told me that she couldn't help me understand what was going on, and I would have to call her supervisor who would be in from 8:30 - 4 all next week. "Or," she adds helpfully, "you can come on down here and get a copy of your records so you can look at it and figure it out for yourself." Well, no, bitch, I can't, as I am a couple thousand miles away from your strip-mall state. And, as I have a job in which I barely get bathroom breaks, let alone time to call and navigate through all your bullshit so I can talk to your supervisor who may or may not have any idea what to say to me, I think you'll have to give me some other options.

I hate UCF. Didn't like them much while I was there, either. And now I have the added insult of a fucked up account and a payment plan I can barely keep up with. Bitches.

Snow Day!

Even though we have February vacation next week, I was more than ready for a snow day. Yesterday was very trying, and I have been coming down with this sick yuck grossness that everyone in my extended family has been dealing with over the past couple weeks. Sore throat, fever, etc. Ugh.

But more about yesterday. It was one of those PMS days, only I'm not PMSing. Murphy's law was in full effect. There was a moderate crisis with kids at school, which was equally interesting and frustrating, because unlike other crisis situations I've been in, it didn't involve anything physical - it was all emotional, which, I've found, I have no idea how to deal with. By the end of the day, I'd muddled my way though it, but I still feel that I could've handled it a lot better. So then I drove to Bangor for a doctor's appointment - which sucked. I was this guy's last appointment of the day, and it was crystal clear that he just wanted to get out of there. I had to keep asking him questions just to keep him in the room. I counted three separate times when he moved to the door and actually had his hand on the knob before I was done talking. Ridiculous. I had just skipped my after-school tutoring, driven an hour to see him and he couldn't give me the time of day. And, as it turns out, he was out-of-network. Dick.

So then I try to go to the bank (in Maine, the only Bank of America is in Bangor), and they closed at 4. So now I have no money. Well, I have the money, but not in a liquid form, which really does me no good, as MBNA doesn't accept payroll checks. So I'm pissed. And late on my Visa payment.

At this point, I was probably starting to get this fever and didn't know it, because on the drive home, I decompressed a little and started thinking about how I should just go to Dennehy's for a pint. How nice it would be to just go there and relax in the little cozy corner, sink into the blue cushioned seats and just people watch. It would be warm, and I would have a nice pint of Guinness, and I could just stay there for a few hours and just be and not worry about the emotionally disturbed or snotty doctors or my impending cold. After a few miles of this planning(all quite in earnest), I realized that in fact, Dennehy's was in Cork, and my only options for a drink (none of them relaxing) were a Chinese restaurant, a dirty redneck bar or a pool hall. I ended up choosing the Chinese place, where they took pity on me and dusted off the Jameson's bottle.

Today is better, but I still want my pint at Dennehy's. It's been too long.


And Austin was booted off Project Runway! Shocking! I'm so addicted to this show...

Let's call this a week, shall we?

Thank god almighty tomorrow is Friday. For some reason, school has been getting to me this week. I was just a smidgen away from losing it in the special ed room today. I just had one of those feelings around 1:15 - you know, like I have to remove myself from this situation right-the-fuck-now-before-I-hurt-someone. I went to the teacher's room and made myself a cup of green tea. I actually counted to ten on the way back to the room. Then I stood outside the room with my tea and counted to ten again.

After that, the afternooon went much more smoothly. I am so much looking forward to the weekend. I think my honeymoon period with the whole employment thing is over. A good friends once said, "Unemployment is dangerous for your mental health." And he was right. Don't get me wrong, I am SOOO glad that my life is making sense to me again, but man. This week, employment was dangerous to my mental health. And my blood/alcohol level.

And by the way. I have also discovered this week that I lost my multiplication tables somewhere along the last fifteen years. Seriously. Can anyone else say their times tables? From memory? Quick, what's 6 x 8? 8 x 7? 12 x 11?