Bubba, a product endorsement, and the Mexican National Anthem

Bubba is a little boy who ran over to me yesterday at a coffee shop, climbed up on my chair, put his arm around my neck, and leaned in to me comfortably. Just to make sure, I turned my head so he could see me and asked "Did you mistake me for someone you know?" His mom hurried over and explained, "No, he just loves women." We talked briefly, and while we did I patted Bubba on the back. After a second, I noticed he was patting me, too, on the back of the head! He got down, played in the fountain, went through a little gate, collected some rocks, then took a couple laps around the courtyard. On the first lap, he was clothed in overalls. On the second lap, no overalls, just pull-ups. On the third lap, the pull-ups are dangling off one leg and he's trying to kick them off while still running from Mom, who's hot on his nekkid little tail, explaining that "we are not in our living room."

Okay, I only do this occasionally, but I tried a new nail color the other night, and it is so good I am endorsing it for my (what, two?) female readers. It was L'Oreal Steel color. I was looking for a really obnoxious bright rasberry color, and that was just the first one I saw, but it went on smoothly, dried quickly (fast enough that even I didn't smudge it, and I am the smudge master), looks really even, and after two days (okay, one and a half), it's not chipped or worn at all. Usually, I can count on messing my nail polish up while it is still wet, and then getting a chip within the next 24 hours, so already this is an improvement. Okay, that's all.

The Bubba story reminded me of several funny stories from my school, one of which was a kid who, when asked if he went by any other name, said "You can call me Bubba." My friend replied "Are you sure, honey?" Anyway, I was thinking of all these stories, and may someday tell you about the Hummer (if you haven't heard it already, which is unlikely -- it's one of Mockula's greatest hits), the catfight behind the gym, the band teacher with the unfortunate name, and many more. But for today, it's the Mexican National Anthem.
It was the last week of my first year, and the last week is notoriously hard to deal with. You've already turned your textbooks in, the days are short, and any kid with half a brain realizes you've also finalized your grades. So one day I decide to bring my bass guitar and entertain the kids. A kid named Junior asked if he could play it. He was a sweet and trustworthy kid, so I said yes. With little hesitation, he picks out the strains of "Lowrider," by War. Having a brain fade (sometimes I feel like an absolute stroke victim -- yesterday I couldn't remember "Sturgis"), I said "Oh, wow, cool! That was great! What's that song called?" And Junior replies "I think it's, like, the Mexican National Anthem." My friend Henry loved this one, and once, when the song came on (about 4 years later) at a party, we both went "Hey, it's the Mexican National Anthem!"

The to-do list

One of my favorite Frog and Toad stories is about a to-do list. It's amazing how much stuff you can cross off and still not feel like you've done anything.

I left a message with Kaiser about my foot thing.
I created a wedding invitation list and got/requested a few more addresses from folks.
I sent an e-mail to the lady at the county office of education who I think can help me out of a bind.
I made an appointment at the county clerk's office to get MARRIED.
I contacted a friend about a carpool to a conference (just e-mailed, haven't heard back).
I called to arrange for someone to pick up my van so I can donate it.
I called our insurance lady to ask a question (left a message again).
I reserved a boat for our upcoming rafting trip.
I (finally) sent monkeygirl the last two addresses for my bachelorette party.
I ordered something secret for the reception (although everyone who reads this blog regularly already knows what it is).
I sent an e-mail to potential rafters to confirm the date & such.

Now I'm off to shower, then coffee with sora3, then pick up veggies, then ballet. Not much concrete to show for what has been a fairly busy day.

Bye all,
CM

I rule

Gimme some sugar baby.


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They got the bad guy!

The story's over at Sweetie's blog but the good news is that they hauled that dude's ass off to jail. Plus, I got to ride in the back of a police car and wave at all my neighbors. Finally, huh? I just hope he doesn't get bailed out and show up this weekend or something. Oh, our stuffed animals had some thoughts on this as well at their blog.

In other news, you know in "Monty Python's Search for the Holy Grail" how they show the hand turning the pages of the big illustrated book, and eventually a big hairy monster hand envelops the other hand? Well, in the movie that is my life, I have almost never heard the page turning to another chapter quite so loudly and obviously. It's like that moment in between CDs when you can hear the mechanism in the player changing and Paul Simon's Graceland was on and the "Myth of Fingerprints" just finished playing and now, after a brief delay, Patti Smith is starting off on "Gloria." I said goodbye to the last of my colleagues and turned in my keys. The guy causing all our problems here at home is in jail. We bought our wedding rings. I said goodbye to an old friend. So many things are changing, I'd almost believe in some kind of astrological influence. The last time my life changed so drastically was the few-month period in 1999 when I left my husband, moved in with a roommate (monkeygirl, actually) for the first time, finished my first and hardest year of grad school, quit my job to start substitute teaching, and applied for and was accepted into the intern program that got me into teaching. I also got seriously ill, which I'm beginning to be concerned that I am now. Is there a term for this, like 'sea change' or 'Saturn's return' or something? I can almost hear a Disney's Haunted Mansion sound effect -- the creak, thud, of a chapter of my life closing. But I can also hear the creak of it opening onto a new one.

Excitement, adventure, high-speed chases, and tearful goodbyes.

No, really! First, a thought on my last day at my school -- the absolute hardest part is leaving all the wonderful people I work with. And none of them know my blog address, so you know I'm not just saying it to be nice. I really wanted to talk to each of them personally to say goodbye, and I tried, but didn't manage to hit quite everyone. It was really bittersweet. Everyone said totally undeserved nice shit about me, like how hard it was going to be to replace me. I made a special point of thanking all of the support staff people -- the counselors, attendance lady, custodians, administrative assistant. I don't know what it's like in other fields, but in teaching, those people are the ones who make EVERYTHING go. Potential teachers out there (Zoombaba, listen up), these are the people to be nice to. I'm serious.

Also, we had our promotion ceremony today, and while it was really nice to see my current students in the ceremony, it was absolutely touching and astounding to see two of my students from my very first year of teaching who graduated from high school on Tuesday. One of them was a constant thorn in my side. I loved her and sometimes was utterly frustrated by her. She made me mad. She questioned everything and never gave in on anything, even when she was wrong. We butted heads a lot, but still I had a really deep affection for her. She is going to Cal Poly in the fall to study biology so she can become a pediatrician, the dream she had five years ago when I first asked her what she wanted to be when she grew up. Writing this right now is the third time I've teared up over it.
And one last thing on the promotion ceremony. I wish 13 year old girls could look around objectively and see how utterly nice and attractive and lovely and respectful they look when they dress appropriately for the occasion and their age. The ones in floral sundresses, pants and blazers, knee-length skirts and blouses -- they just look so sweet and nice. The ones in the skirts that barely cover their asses, the stiletto heels they can't walk in . . . not so much. There's a time to dress like that -- when you're an adult in a dance club looking for nookie. Not at 8th grade graduation. Oh well, nothing you can do, right?

Okay, now on to the adventure and high speed chases . . .

So yesterday I'm driving home in my rental car (if you're just tuning in, my Matrix was stolen from work on the 6th) from Trader Joe's, and just a couple blocks from home, I see a Matrix hogging the road up ahead. As I pass it, I look at the driver (looking for the face of stupid as usual) and it's my scuzzy two-doors-down neighbor! I turn my head as I pass him to look at the license plate, and it's MINE! It's MY CAR!
Since I'm nearly home, I rush in and call the cops. I'm all ready to be like "He's heading northbound on 58th . . ." when the dispatcher basically tells me to shove off, that they can't do anything unless I find it parked somewhere. I'm like "so, I saw my neighbor driving my car two minutes ago and I can tell you exactly where, and you're not interested?" Yep.

So I make gazpacho. Angry, cut into little tiny pieces with a knife gazpacho. Furious gazpacho. And sweetie, bless his heart for being angry too, keeps popping back into the room to make sure I'm right about everything I've told him. Pop: "And it was light blue?" Pop: "And did it have the fuzzy dice?" Pop: "ANd the police said they couldn't do anything?" Pop: "And it was that guy from the house down the street?" Pop: "And it was a blue Matrix?" Finally, I flipped a little. Something to the tune of "I'M REALLY PISSED OFF AND WOULD APPRECIATE IT IF YOU WOULD QUIT ASKING ME THESE THINGS AND YES I'M SURE IT'S MY CAR BECAUSE IT HAD MY FREAKING LICENSE PLATES ON IT."

I ate the angry gazpacho, then went to the dryer to get my dance clothes, which were still wet. I turned to sweetie and said "Do you want to go for a drive and see if we can find it parked somewhere?"

We drove through the worst parts of town for about 3/4 of an hour (and I definitely found the worst parts of town -- we were circled overhead by a helicopter and passed about 15 cop cars while driving). I finally decided to take one swing past a little shopping complex in our neighborhood (there's a dive bar in there), and spotted him on the road. Reza called the cops and we followed him. Now, I lied about the high speed part. He was stuck behind a slow-moving truck hauling a camper for a few blocks, then he passed it and I stayed behind it so he wouldn't figure out I was following him. He drove . . . wait for it . . . right back to our neighborhood! He parked around the corner and walked to his mom's house. We parked our rental car in the garage and waited by the Matrix for the police. It took a while for the cops to get there, and by the time they got to the mom's house, he and his buddy had taken off in a van (they probably figured out what was going on). I stowed the car in a secret hidy-spot, and set the wheels of revenge in motion. Speaking of which, if you would like the car theif and house burglar's name, date of birth, social security number, driver's license number, or address, please feel free to e-mail or comment below. I will make sure all requests are answered in a timely fashion.

Unfortunately, this is not a high priority for the police, so even though I can hand THEM all that information and several bags of evidence from the car, they can't dust the car for prints until Tuesday, and they couldn't come out for four hours today after I SAW him enter the house. It's like "Hello, here is the name and location of a criminal who is wanted for a couple felonies. Oh, you're busy? Terribly sorry to bother you . . ."

I also can't get the locks changed until next week even though he still has a key. I bought a super-The Club and am going to limit my trips for the next few days. I also am e-mailing all the information I've gathered to the detective. Plus, there's gonna be some fucking WRATH towards that den of hillbillies. I won't do anything illegal, don't worry (I turned down the offer of my step-sister's thug friends), but I will sure as HELL call the cops every time they're fighting in the streets, call the code enforcement people every time they're place looks like shit (all the time), call about the building they did without a permit, call this asshole's probation or parole officer . . . heck, I already told the officer that came out yesterday that the teenage kid who lives there sells pot. I'm kind of hoping they're behind in their taxes, too. I've got people . . .

Also, I'm pissed about my insurance company. They wouldn't pay to re-key the car, and said they'd deal with it if it got stolen. Well, are they going to pay now? Probably not.

Wow

This has been some week. Today is the last real day of school. Tomorrow is the promotion ceremony, so I read their names and stuff, but after they go home at around ten, I'm done, too. I still have to pack a little more and check out, but nothing serious. I cleaned out my desk and computer today. I think I've left the next teacher fairly well stocked without leaving them with a roomful of junk (which happened to me when I first started, then again when I moved rooms). Friday technically we have to check in, but usually I'm ahead of the game enough that all I do that day is turn in my keys.

I'm really going to miss the people I work with, but at the same time I already know I'm going to be working with some very cool people at my new job, too.

I'm getting married in three weeks and two days! There's really no comparison between this time and last time, but I still think about how tortured I felt, how concerned, how many people said "Well, you know you can just call it off," but I didn't really feel like I could. I feel so at ease about my impending nuptuals, like it is just the right thing to do at the right time.

I found out that another couple of friends of mine are having a baby, and I'm very excited for them.

I've been losing sleep over a decision I made earlier this week, not because it was a bad decision (it wasn't) but because I know someone else is hurting over it, and for that I'm sorry.

I'm still getting used to being ever-vigilant with the security system, the deadbolts, etc. Sweetie is extremely anxious about the whole thing, and I wish there were some way I could calm him. The reality of it is, we are doing all the right things to keep our home safe, but if something happens (hell, it could be an act of god, too), then it happens and there's not much we can do to prevent it, so we might as well live our lives at some peace.

I'm worried about money, even though EVERYONE says not to be. It's just that I really wanted to get a new air conditioner, but can't do that and a new car, which it looks like I will need. I am going to try to get the absolute best car deal I can, but with that on my credit, I probably won't be able to afford the AC for a while. And we're not going to spend a ton on the reception, but I had planned to spend my savings on that, not on the downpayment for a car. I also may not take a $500 class I was planning on this summer, not because of the money, but more because of the time. Between a conference I'm going to, three weeks of summer school, fixing up the house, and reception planning, I just don't want to add another time committment. Okay, now that all that's off my chest, I have to run a few errands around here.

Take care, all.
CM

Picture thingy.

I am not that type of gal either...

I stole this from G3 (with permission). I seem to be the only one to have done this over on his livejournal , so I hope some more people take me up on it.

1. think of the first word that comes to mind when you think of me.
2. go to http://images.google.com/ and search for that word.
3. reply to this post with one of the pictures on the first page of results (don't tell me the word).
4. put this in your own blog so that I can do the same. (optional)

Also, you are probably not as dumb as I am, but if you are, here's how to post the picture: type in (<)img src="thepicture'swebaddress"(>) but take out the parentheses. It totally worked, dude. I had to ask.

Don't feel much like writing,

but ought you let y'all know I'm not dead. Anyway, there are 6 days left of school, I found out that I do get to go to the conference in Asilomar (yay!), I'm getting married in a month and two days, and there's plenty of other good news, too. That's what I want to focus on.
I made a yummy batch of hummus yesterday (I use less oil and more garlic than most, because that's how I like it), and the other night I made myself a pretty hair thing for the wedding. I spent $17 and still have beads left, and I think mine's every bit as nice as the ones I saw on the web for $85 and up. Gotta go, meeting time.