Okay, so I was recently involved in a discussion about an Associated Press article that appeared in many newspapers regarding ways to screw around with birth control to stop menstruating or at least slow it to like 4 times a year. As I read it, it sounded as though the idea had come from female doctors and nurses who realized you could skip your "green week" with no ill effects. Now, of course, with things like Depo, you can stop menstruating altogether, or with BC pills like Seasonale, you can go to only 4 times a year. The article, to me anyway, seemed to have a lot of health-related information about how it's not really necessary to bleed monthly. I processed this information with some other information I'd read recently about how women 100 years ago had far fewer periods over their lifetime because of three things -- onset was later, they were pregnant more often, and breastfeeding sometimes for years. Anyway, the basic idea is that it's not medically necessary to menstruate.
I'm not stupid. I know that LOTS of times, the medical industry declares something safe, then years later we find out otherwise. For example, taking estrogen after menopause was de rigeur until about now... Nevertheless, I can't really see why BC pills, which simulate natural hormones, would be so much worse for you than not menstruating because of pregnancy of breastfeeding. Two days ago, if someone had said to me "But don't you think this is a feminist issue?" I'd have said "Hell yes! It's empowering women to make choices about their bodies."
But then I entered this online discussion, and about 99% of the other gals seemed to think it was a feminist issue in another sense, i.e., that it was another way for men to control us and turn us into sex objects. That bleeding is what makes us women and we shouldn't give it up.
I'm totally in favor of rocking your cramping, bleeding, PMSing self. Go, badass womanhood, you know? But at the same time, what's wrong with taking charge of your body if you can? What if it's not that I want to be available to my MAN for sex 31 days a month, but I want to be available for ME? What if I am not one of those girls who has a sweet little three day period that the regular OBs take care of? What if I don't like it? Why should I have to bleed for the feminist cause? And doesn't my matched pair of X chromosomes make me a woman? How 'bout my rack? My brain? My whole everything?
Anyway, I'm just curious what you all think.
Wednesday, May 24, 2006
Monday, May 22, 2006
Kitchen!!!
Yay!!!! With the exception of a little painting to be done on the moulding and a towel rack yet to be hung (and okay, some cleaning of shelves and things), the kitchen is DONE! The linoleum is laid, moulding is in, appliances are moved back... Life is good. By the way, the picture here is the OLD linoleum. I was worried I hadn't gotten a picture of how truly horrible it was, but I found another piece. Yep, that's yellow, red, blue, and green flowery-swirly-vines on a repeating square background with, by the way, deep divots for the dirt to collect in. I HATED that linoluem. I had a nightmare the other night that I had selected the exact same stuff for the new linloeum, only with bigger flowers. Anyway, I'm delighted, so now the next projects are:
Bathroom -- paint, refinish cabinets, new grout in shower. The leftover linoleum was not enough to do the bathroom, but frankly the old stuff in there isn't that bad, so I'll probably just leave it.
Dining room -- I finally decided to scrap the tile idea (I was going to re-grout it, but after trying out my new grout tool and getting less success than your average emery board, I decided that idea sucked) and put in laminate flooring, which I have extra of in storage anyway.
Outside -- a lot of plants need trimming, I just ordered a new mailbox, the lawn needs therapy, the trim paint either needs cleaned or re-done, the gutters require cleaning...
Garage -- big time cleaning out and reorganizing.
Then before we put it on the market, I need to do a really thorough cleaning of the whole place and throw some stuff in storage so that it looks emptier in here.
Okay, I want to watch a VH1 thing on Black Sabbath and pluck my eyebrows. Par-tay.
Bathroom -- paint, refinish cabinets, new grout in shower. The leftover linoleum was not enough to do the bathroom, but frankly the old stuff in there isn't that bad, so I'll probably just leave it.
Dining room -- I finally decided to scrap the tile idea (I was going to re-grout it, but after trying out my new grout tool and getting less success than your average emery board, I decided that idea sucked) and put in laminate flooring, which I have extra of in storage anyway.
Outside -- a lot of plants need trimming, I just ordered a new mailbox, the lawn needs therapy, the trim paint either needs cleaned or re-done, the gutters require cleaning...
Garage -- big time cleaning out and reorganizing.
Then before we put it on the market, I need to do a really thorough cleaning of the whole place and throw some stuff in storage so that it looks emptier in here.
Okay, I want to watch a VH1 thing on Black Sabbath and pluck my eyebrows. Par-tay.
Situation normal...
All fouled up.
Yeah, so today at school, one of the other teachers comes to me and says "The papers your 11th graders are writing have to be on TWO books from this semester, not one from this semester and one from last." I knew that, and I had told them that, and photocopied the instructions, and gone over it, but when it came down to them submitting their topics, I didn't catch it when they did it wrong. So I have to take responsibility. Unfortunately, all that means for me is that I have to apologize. For them, it means they have to re-write their papers. On the bright side (for me), when we were discussing it, one of the students said "well, is it true that you can't write on the same book for both papers?" I asked where it said that, and SURE AS SHIT, there it was in bold print. But at least WE cleared this up today. See, the 12th graders' papers were already submitted to the grader. Worst case (and fairly likely) scenario? The 12th graders' papers are not eligible for grading and they don't get a passing score in English. In that case, they can still get a full diploma if their scores are high enough in every other class. Let's hope, huh?
I felt awful about my students, but I can't imagine what the 12th grade teacher must be feeling (I brought it to his attention as soon as we discovered it). It's SO confusing -- the directions are all clearly laid out, but not on the same page. The "you can't write two papers on the same book" rule is in an entirely different section than the "this paper must be on two part 1 works" section. My god, we went to lunch together today and were just slapping our foreheads about it. We also decided we are both going to read the ENTIRE book of rules this summer and maybe re-write them in a bullet-pointed format so that it's clear.
Yeah, so today at school, one of the other teachers comes to me and says "The papers your 11th graders are writing have to be on TWO books from this semester, not one from this semester and one from last." I knew that, and I had told them that, and photocopied the instructions, and gone over it, but when it came down to them submitting their topics, I didn't catch it when they did it wrong. So I have to take responsibility. Unfortunately, all that means for me is that I have to apologize. For them, it means they have to re-write their papers. On the bright side (for me), when we were discussing it, one of the students said "well, is it true that you can't write on the same book for both papers?" I asked where it said that, and SURE AS SHIT, there it was in bold print. But at least WE cleared this up today. See, the 12th graders' papers were already submitted to the grader. Worst case (and fairly likely) scenario? The 12th graders' papers are not eligible for grading and they don't get a passing score in English. In that case, they can still get a full diploma if their scores are high enough in every other class. Let's hope, huh?
I felt awful about my students, but I can't imagine what the 12th grade teacher must be feeling (I brought it to his attention as soon as we discovered it). It's SO confusing -- the directions are all clearly laid out, but not on the same page. The "you can't write two papers on the same book" rule is in an entirely different section than the "this paper must be on two part 1 works" section. My god, we went to lunch together today and were just slapping our foreheads about it. We also decided we are both going to read the ENTIRE book of rules this summer and maybe re-write them in a bullet-pointed format so that it's clear.
Saturday, May 20, 2006
New linoleum!
Is it even finished yet? No. Was I in the kitchen taking a picture the instant my cousin said he was leaving to go to the store? Yes.
Isn't it great??? I know you wouldn't really have a basis for comparison unless you knew how completely dreadful the previous linoleum was, but I'm delighted! Yay linoleum!
The bad news this weekend is that my washer/dryer combo appears to have bitten the dust. Well, burst into flames, actually. In fact, let me just tell you now; get the full-size fire extinguisher. The little one only lasts for a few seconds. Also, have read the instructions first. I had, but otherwise I'd have been in trouble. So it looks like a new washer/dryer is in the works. Too bad, since I was hoping some of that savings would go towards other things, but what the hell. Having a side-by-side instead of the stacked dealie will look better in there, and maybe make the house look more appealing to buyers.
I've been trying not to look online at the house listings, because there are a couple things that have to get taken care of before we can even apply for a loan, but it would be REALLY, REALLY nice if we could get it done before we go to Hawaii and have good news when we return about how much we qualify for.
Isn't it great??? I know you wouldn't really have a basis for comparison unless you knew how completely dreadful the previous linoleum was, but I'm delighted! Yay linoleum!
The bad news this weekend is that my washer/dryer combo appears to have bitten the dust. Well, burst into flames, actually. In fact, let me just tell you now; get the full-size fire extinguisher. The little one only lasts for a few seconds. Also, have read the instructions first. I had, but otherwise I'd have been in trouble. So it looks like a new washer/dryer is in the works. Too bad, since I was hoping some of that savings would go towards other things, but what the hell. Having a side-by-side instead of the stacked dealie will look better in there, and maybe make the house look more appealing to buyers.
I've been trying not to look online at the house listings, because there are a couple things that have to get taken care of before we can even apply for a loan, but it would be REALLY, REALLY nice if we could get it done before we go to Hawaii and have good news when we return about how much we qualify for.
Thursday, May 18, 2006
Out with a bang... er...
Well, the original big plan was to have the band go out with a bang - a bunch of shows, a couple new songs, recording all our stuff... But it kind of looks like we've gone out with a whimper and a nice dinner. I have mixed feelings about it. In one sense, we kind of don't have a band anyway. I mean, I made sure I was available pretty much every Sunday at noon for the last 5 months, and we've practiced, oh, four times? We haven't had a show since last year, and frankly, we kind of got downgraded from regular gigs at the Distillery to the occasional deal at some trashy dive in Roseville. On the other hand, it was so fun to have that as part of my identity. I never usually brought it up, but lots of people would go "Oh, Mockula's in a band," or "how's the band?" and then the people around would be like "what's the name? Oh that's rad!" Or they'd be scandalized, which was just as good. I was Mockula, and I was in a band called The Gynas, and that was cool, and now I'm not anymore. Hmm.
There are two up sides, though. First, I have so much going on now that I didn't have when we started the band, back when I was 25 (ouch!). For example, drummergirl is in a much better relationship (like, a billion times better), has graduated from college, has a grown-up job, has a cute place downtown, and is happily involved in martial arts again. Gynagirl has moved up and up in her career and is making fat money. She has a beautiful nephew who is very attached to her. Her kitty family has increased threefold. She's getting ready to go on the European vacation of a lifetime. I've gotten a teaching credential and an MA. I've gotten married to the best guy ever. I own my own home. Knock wood, we're starting our own family soon. I'm really satisfied in my job. Everything's so much better in so many ways.
And the other up side is, I don't feel obligated to do musical stuff, but if I wanted to, I could try to get better at playing the bass for real. I can continue learning guitar. I can call up Underclass and see if they still want me to sing with them on a track... I don't know, there are all kinds of opportunities. Anyway, it's been a little bittersweet thinking of it for the last day or so.
By the way, I finished "A Long Way Down," by Nick Hornby. I liked it. Not as much as "About a Boy," but way more than "How to Be Good." I'll have to decide where it falls between "High Fidelity" and "Songboook." I was only okay on the football one. I got a little teary at a few points near the end, but I've just been teary lately anyway. I think he does a better job voicing young American rock and rollers and teenaged British punks than he does with middle-aged TV personalities or women whose children have disabilities, but whatever. Overall I quite liked it.
I also totally forgot to tell you that I finished the latest Salman Rushdie, "Shalimar the Clown." I really super-liked that one, actually. It was a great book, and I highly recommend it. Rushdie has an incredible way of making everything lead inexorably to its inevitable end. I'm a pretty fast reader, and I read for content, but with Rushdie, sometimes he has such a striking way of putting a sentence together that I would stop and read it again and contemplate it for a minute. He puts stories together in the way John Irving does, so that it's tragic, but hopeful, and everyone is linked from the beginning, but you only slowly begin to understand, and even the good guys are bad guys and the bad guys are good guys, because everyone has a past. I don't know, it's cool. Besides "The Satanic Verses," it's the only one I've read. I'll probably pick up "Midnight's Children" soon, but I have an ever growing and shrinking shelf of stuff to read, never mind the magazines...
Okay, bye y'all.
There are two up sides, though. First, I have so much going on now that I didn't have when we started the band, back when I was 25 (ouch!). For example, drummergirl is in a much better relationship (like, a billion times better), has graduated from college, has a grown-up job, has a cute place downtown, and is happily involved in martial arts again. Gynagirl has moved up and up in her career and is making fat money. She has a beautiful nephew who is very attached to her. Her kitty family has increased threefold. She's getting ready to go on the European vacation of a lifetime. I've gotten a teaching credential and an MA. I've gotten married to the best guy ever. I own my own home. Knock wood, we're starting our own family soon. I'm really satisfied in my job. Everything's so much better in so many ways.
And the other up side is, I don't feel obligated to do musical stuff, but if I wanted to, I could try to get better at playing the bass for real. I can continue learning guitar. I can call up Underclass and see if they still want me to sing with them on a track... I don't know, there are all kinds of opportunities. Anyway, it's been a little bittersweet thinking of it for the last day or so.
By the way, I finished "A Long Way Down," by Nick Hornby. I liked it. Not as much as "About a Boy," but way more than "How to Be Good." I'll have to decide where it falls between "High Fidelity" and "Songboook." I was only okay on the football one. I got a little teary at a few points near the end, but I've just been teary lately anyway. I think he does a better job voicing young American rock and rollers and teenaged British punks than he does with middle-aged TV personalities or women whose children have disabilities, but whatever. Overall I quite liked it.
I also totally forgot to tell you that I finished the latest Salman Rushdie, "Shalimar the Clown." I really super-liked that one, actually. It was a great book, and I highly recommend it. Rushdie has an incredible way of making everything lead inexorably to its inevitable end. I'm a pretty fast reader, and I read for content, but with Rushdie, sometimes he has such a striking way of putting a sentence together that I would stop and read it again and contemplate it for a minute. He puts stories together in the way John Irving does, so that it's tragic, but hopeful, and everyone is linked from the beginning, but you only slowly begin to understand, and even the good guys are bad guys and the bad guys are good guys, because everyone has a past. I don't know, it's cool. Besides "The Satanic Verses," it's the only one I've read. I'll probably pick up "Midnight's Children" soon, but I have an ever growing and shrinking shelf of stuff to read, never mind the magazines...
Okay, bye y'all.
Friday, May 12, 2006
Xiaolin mullet, next door, Rockin' the casbah
Okay, I keep forgetting to tell you about the gym teacher here with the serious Asian Mullet. It looks like the one at right, only dark brown and work in a braid. Also, the top may be a bit more of a flat top.
The next door neighbor finally pulled his head out of his ass and came down $40k in price. Maybe now someone will buy it.
Last night I hung out with my friend Annalisa, which was fun. We decided to try the new place next to Tapa the World, which is Middle-Eastern in food, theme, and decor. They had some yummy-sounding stuff, including what we had, which was the Chi Chi en Fuego or something like that -- basically a cheese with quince paste flambeed. It was really good, even better than the Greek version I've had. They also had a selection of yummy-looking drinks. Although a series of odd coincidences made me think that my sweetie was going to think that meeting with Annalisa was really "meeting with Annalisa," as in, a euphemism for something tawdry.
To wit: First, I forgot my wedding ring at home -- it was hot when I got home from school and my hands were swollen, so I took my rings off and left them on the bathroom counter, which I rarely do. Then after ballet, I was taking my clothes to the bathroom to change, and when I got in there, I didn't have my chonies. I came back out and discovered them lying in the middle of the room, but no one had noticed! I snatched them up and decided to freeball it (or whatever -- go commando). Then in the parking lot, I changed my mind and quickly threw them on (no one was around!). But then I saw the bow on the inside and realized I was putting them on inside-out, but it was too late! I was committed. So I returned home with no rings on and my panties inside-out. Of course, Sweetie was asleep. He probably wouldn't have noticed anyway.
The next door neighbor finally pulled his head out of his ass and came down $40k in price. Maybe now someone will buy it.
Last night I hung out with my friend Annalisa, which was fun. We decided to try the new place next to Tapa the World, which is Middle-Eastern in food, theme, and decor. They had some yummy-sounding stuff, including what we had, which was the Chi Chi en Fuego or something like that -- basically a cheese with quince paste flambeed. It was really good, even better than the Greek version I've had. They also had a selection of yummy-looking drinks. Although a series of odd coincidences made me think that my sweetie was going to think that meeting with Annalisa was really "meeting with Annalisa," as in, a euphemism for something tawdry.
To wit: First, I forgot my wedding ring at home -- it was hot when I got home from school and my hands were swollen, so I took my rings off and left them on the bathroom counter, which I rarely do. Then after ballet, I was taking my clothes to the bathroom to change, and when I got in there, I didn't have my chonies. I came back out and discovered them lying in the middle of the room, but no one had noticed! I snatched them up and decided to freeball it (or whatever -- go commando). Then in the parking lot, I changed my mind and quickly threw them on (no one was around!). But then I saw the bow on the inside and realized I was putting them on inside-out, but it was too late! I was committed. So I returned home with no rings on and my panties inside-out. Of course, Sweetie was asleep. He probably wouldn't have noticed anyway.
Wednesday, May 10, 2006
Free beer, hot nights, irreverent jewelery.
That makes it sound much more exciting than it is. We had a crisper drawer entirely full of beer, because we have periodic dinner parties or party parties. What happens is that people bring a six pack of beer, then drink four and go home. So we have 2 Orange Blossom Cream Ales, 2 MGDs (possible dating back to Gynagirl's PBD days), 2 Sierra Nevadas, 2 ... well, you get the idea. So I took a grocery bag of beer over to our Harley Davidson neighbors and we chatted. I've done a lot more to the interior of my house than they have, but their backyard looks great!
Well, two weeks ago it was raining nearly non-stop. A week ago it was spring. Today it is summer. Yep, it was over 100 degrees when I got into my car after work, my sunglasses burned the side of my face, and my gum was melty. I held out on using the car AC until I was on the way to ballet, but then I needed it. Dude, it was 94 degrees!
I got a bracelet over the weekend. I was in a game store with the boys (the boys, in this case, were Sweetie, Toltec 1, and Toltec fils 1 and 2). Anyway, they have some novelty stuff in there, and I found those rubber band Livestrong-type bracelets that had stuff on them I liked -- Nihilism (I got it for sweetie), Irony (for me), Despair, Carnivore, all the 7 deadly sins. Hey, how often can you get a literary device on a bracelet, and have it be sort of accurate, too? I, however, at least have the decency to feel guilty about it when someone asks what's on there. Sweetie thinks it's funny. My .40 on the dollar went to some guy who lives in his parents' basement rather than to cancer research, but... but... it's purple!
Well, two weeks ago it was raining nearly non-stop. A week ago it was spring. Today it is summer. Yep, it was over 100 degrees when I got into my car after work, my sunglasses burned the side of my face, and my gum was melty. I held out on using the car AC until I was on the way to ballet, but then I needed it. Dude, it was 94 degrees!
I got a bracelet over the weekend. I was in a game store with the boys (the boys, in this case, were Sweetie, Toltec 1, and Toltec fils 1 and 2). Anyway, they have some novelty stuff in there, and I found those rubber band Livestrong-type bracelets that had stuff on them I liked -- Nihilism (I got it for sweetie), Irony (for me), Despair, Carnivore, all the 7 deadly sins. Hey, how often can you get a literary device on a bracelet, and have it be sort of accurate, too? I, however, at least have the decency to feel guilty about it when someone asks what's on there. Sweetie thinks it's funny. My .40 on the dollar went to some guy who lives in his parents' basement rather than to cancer research, but... but... it's purple!
Oh goodness
I am one of the few, the proud... one of those folks whose jobs don't allow us to pee at will. Like actors while on stage. Like football players during a game. Like... who else can't go potty when they need to? Sweatshop workers? GOD, I HAVE TO PEE!! 9 minutes until class is over...
Tuesday, May 09, 2006
Cranky-headed
I'm not really that cranky, but I've sure been acting like it. I chewed out the IB kids big-time yesterday for a combination of not proofreading their papers (half the class) and not turning their papers in (the other half.) The kid I have decided is most likely to poison my water bottle today is the kid on whose paper I created a faux outline of his paper with comments like the following:
"The axolotls are buried alive and I felt like I was buried alive while reading this book." His was also the only paper on which I wrote "Arghh!!" and instead of using the traditional 'delete' editing mark, I crossed through it repeatedly and with a vengeance. He deserved it, though. He wrote "...the author is easily capable of bringing the lucky reader into their surreal experiences during the war." Lucky reader! How fucking glib is that?! I crossed out lucky with, let's see, approximately eleven cross-hatchings.
At lunch I found myself yelling "Freshmen! No yelling!"
And I am actually cranky about the $5 I spent in December to order candy for this kid's fundrasier. I'm certain that I ordered peanut-butter chocolate things, and he brought me a "Smiley-Lolligram" instead, saying that he had lost his order form, but he was "sure" that was what I ordered. Ingredeients: Sugar, Corn Syrup, Artificial Flavors, Citric Acid, Titanium Dioxide, FD&C Red #40, Blue #1, Yellow #5. 153 calories, 37 grams of sugar. It has a smiley-face on it, but the eyes are kind of smooshed. It comes with its own envelope and card. I'm considering sending it to someone I don't like. Possibly the kid who sold it to me.
Incidentally, as I was reading the ingredients, another kid asked be about it and I told him the little story and he said, "I remember that; I was in here that day at lunch. You did order chocolate. He's playing you!" I know -- imagine me ordering something that's NOT chocolate. C'mon.
"The axolotls are buried alive and I felt like I was buried alive while reading this book." His was also the only paper on which I wrote "Arghh!!" and instead of using the traditional 'delete' editing mark, I crossed through it repeatedly and with a vengeance. He deserved it, though. He wrote "...the author is easily capable of bringing the lucky reader into their surreal experiences during the war." Lucky reader! How fucking glib is that?! I crossed out lucky with, let's see, approximately eleven cross-hatchings.
At lunch I found myself yelling "Freshmen! No yelling!"
And I am actually cranky about the $5 I spent in December to order candy for this kid's fundrasier. I'm certain that I ordered peanut-butter chocolate things, and he brought me a "Smiley-Lolligram" instead, saying that he had lost his order form, but he was "sure" that was what I ordered. Ingredeients: Sugar, Corn Syrup, Artificial Flavors, Citric Acid, Titanium Dioxide, FD&C Red #40, Blue #1, Yellow #5. 153 calories, 37 grams of sugar. It has a smiley-face on it, but the eyes are kind of smooshed. It comes with its own envelope and card. I'm considering sending it to someone I don't like. Possibly the kid who sold it to me.
Incidentally, as I was reading the ingredients, another kid asked be about it and I told him the little story and he said, "I remember that; I was in here that day at lunch. You did order chocolate. He's playing you!" I know -- imagine me ordering something that's NOT chocolate. C'mon.
Friday, May 05, 2006
The chocolate cake theory of aging
When you are a child, you can't eat chocolate cake for breakfast because they won't let you.
When you are a young adult, out on your own, you can eat chocolate cake for breakfast!
When you are older, you don't eat chocolate cake for breakfast anymore because it's not good for you.
This is my theory. Stay tuned for another 50 years or so to see if I amend it to include the elderly. I'm thinking you might get to eat chocolate cake for breakfast again because who the hell cares, you're gonna die anyway! Or possibly because you have dementia and don't know what time of the day it is. But that's kind of sad...
When you are a young adult, out on your own, you can eat chocolate cake for breakfast!
When you are older, you don't eat chocolate cake for breakfast anymore because it's not good for you.
This is my theory. Stay tuned for another 50 years or so to see if I amend it to include the elderly. I'm thinking you might get to eat chocolate cake for breakfast again because who the hell cares, you're gonna die anyway! Or possibly because you have dementia and don't know what time of the day it is. But that's kind of sad...
A day at school...
Yesterday at school we had to spend 2 hours outdoors with the freshmen while the sophomores and juniors took exams. I learned several things.
1: Even Zyrtec will not stand up to THAT much allergen exposure. I might as well have rolled around in new-mown grass.
2: Contrary to my prior beliefs, I CAN still hula hoop. I had been trying it in the aisles of Target with my heavy coat on and the tag still on the hoop. But with a real hoop in appropriate dress and with enough space, I can keep one up. The secret is not worrying about whether you look like an idiot.
3: I can also still jump rope. I thought about trying double dutch, but they seemed like they had a line going. Plus, I was in a dress.
4: I have puny arms. I know already that my arm strength is not great, but I cannot do even ONE pull-up, nor can I swing on the monkey bars from one to the next, as I could with ease when I was twelve. I am weaker than when I was twelve.
5: Apparently the similarity between my dad and me has either faded with time and age. People used to say all the time how much we looked alike, but not anymore. What do you think? That's us above.
1: Even Zyrtec will not stand up to THAT much allergen exposure. I might as well have rolled around in new-mown grass.
2: Contrary to my prior beliefs, I CAN still hula hoop. I had been trying it in the aisles of Target with my heavy coat on and the tag still on the hoop. But with a real hoop in appropriate dress and with enough space, I can keep one up. The secret is not worrying about whether you look like an idiot.
3: I can also still jump rope. I thought about trying double dutch, but they seemed like they had a line going. Plus, I was in a dress.
4: I have puny arms. I know already that my arm strength is not great, but I cannot do even ONE pull-up, nor can I swing on the monkey bars from one to the next, as I could with ease when I was twelve. I am weaker than when I was twelve.
5: Apparently the similarity between my dad and me has either faded with time and age. People used to say all the time how much we looked alike, but not anymore. What do you think? That's us above.
Wednesday, May 03, 2006
Ode to Dr. Pham
I owe it all to you, dear Doctor Pham,
What I feel, and how, today, I am.
I only made the desperate phone call
You, June Pham, take credit for it all.
Just earlier today I was congested,
and now I find myself content, well-rested.
You see, my allergies do take their toll;
over my brain they constantly steamroll.
No, not simply my eyes, my ears, my nose --
my allergies affect me scalp to toes.
My nose was red, drip-dropping like a drain.
My head was pounding, sounding like a train.
But now, my eyes are clear, my nose is dry.
Now, because of Dr. Pham, Oh I,
I have a scrip for Zyrtec, and a bottle
and now my husband need no longer coddle
my whiny ass. Oh no, she called it in,
and hours later -- “Let the sun shine in!”
I had a bottle in my hand. Its label
nearly knocked me underneath the table!
For there, to my surprise, the count was numbered:
not ten, like last year, but ONE HUNDRED!
And where I expected to see Refills: None
God bless her, there it was -- Refills: One.
Oh, fuck, dude, I’m SOO happy. I swear, last year I got ten pills, so I had to carefully ration them, and only take my Zyrtec on days when I was really suffering. They were like emergency allergy pills. Maybe she’s new. I don’t ever go to the doctor, so after my last guy retired, I haven’t been in to meet the new doctor yet. I bet she’s like my age, and hasn’t been in the profession long enough to realize you’re supposed to carefully mete out the expensive medication and try to convince me to use Flonase or Claritin (I might as well snort Pez and tongue Tic Tacs for all the good those do).
Yay!!!!!
What I feel, and how, today, I am.
I only made the desperate phone call
You, June Pham, take credit for it all.
Just earlier today I was congested,
and now I find myself content, well-rested.
You see, my allergies do take their toll;
over my brain they constantly steamroll.
No, not simply my eyes, my ears, my nose --
my allergies affect me scalp to toes.
My nose was red, drip-dropping like a drain.
My head was pounding, sounding like a train.
But now, my eyes are clear, my nose is dry.
Now, because of Dr. Pham, Oh I,
I have a scrip for Zyrtec, and a bottle
and now my husband need no longer coddle
my whiny ass. Oh no, she called it in,
and hours later -- “Let the sun shine in!”
I had a bottle in my hand. Its label
nearly knocked me underneath the table!
For there, to my surprise, the count was numbered:
not ten, like last year, but ONE HUNDRED!
And where I expected to see Refills: None
God bless her, there it was -- Refills: One.
Oh, fuck, dude, I’m SOO happy. I swear, last year I got ten pills, so I had to carefully ration them, and only take my Zyrtec on days when I was really suffering. They were like emergency allergy pills. Maybe she’s new. I don’t ever go to the doctor, so after my last guy retired, I haven’t been in to meet the new doctor yet. I bet she’s like my age, and hasn’t been in the profession long enough to realize you’re supposed to carefully mete out the expensive medication and try to convince me to use Flonase or Claritin (I might as well snort Pez and tongue Tic Tacs for all the good those do).
Yay!!!!!
So bored
Oh my god, it's only day 2 of 6 days of testing, and I'm bored nigh on to death. Even after the 2 hours of silence, we still have over four hours of block classes, during which you can't do much because the kids are both exhausted and wired from testing, which is a strange combo, let me tell you. Anyway, just checking in and abusing my Flickr power.
Tuesday, May 02, 2006
Bilingual.
It is really interesting to listen to truly bilingual speakers -- those who are fluent in both languages. The students in my SUV on the trip were are Hmong, and almost all of their conversations were conducted in half of each language. It went like this (with "H" substituted for any clumsy attempt at representing the sound of the language):
1: Hey, when you were talking to John, HHHHHHH? HHH.
2: No, 'cause HHHH But then I said HHHHHH.
3: HHHH, yeah, and HHHH I was like "anyway."
2: Did you HHHHHH? HH after class on Tuesday. Then Mr. Corey HHHHHH.
3: Nuh Uh!! Ha ha ha ha! HHHH
1: Hey, when you were talking to John, HHHHHHH? HHH.
2: No, 'cause HHHH But then I said HHHHHH.
3: HHHH, yeah, and HHHH I was like "anyway."
2: Did you HHHHHH? HH after class on Tuesday. Then Mr. Corey HHHHHH.
3: Nuh Uh!! Ha ha ha ha! HHHH
Monday, May 01, 2006
Oh my aching... what now?
I was sort of narrating this blog post to myself as I drove home from Yosemite. Today I'm hardly sore at all, but on the drive home, it was as though I could hear various parts of my body trying to get my attention:
Knee: Ahem. Oh, um, excuse me. Just a little, well, never mind. I'm okay, don't worry about me.
Back: [Looks morose, hoping I'll notice and ask what's wrong.]
Calves: Hey, watch it, jackass! [Only when I actually flex or extend them. They're only mildly annoyed, as they feel this way several times a month after a particularly strenuous yoga or ballet class.]
Achilles tendon: AUUUGGGGHHHH!!! Whew, I'm okay. [Several minutes pass.] AUUUUGGGGHHH!!!
Instep: I'm just going to cramp up here, but it won't be painful. I just want to remind you that I've been working, too. Little throbbing coming your way...
Knee: Oh my! Oh, heh, nothing, don't mind me.
Back: [Pouts a little.]
Calves: HEY!
Achilles tendon: . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .AAAAUUUUUUGGGGHHHHH!!!!!!
Seriously, everything else was just a little sore, but my right achilles tendon was occasionally sending this crazy shooting pain in two directions. It was the kind of thing that almost made me cuss, and I actually had to take some deep breaths to keep myself collected in front of the kids. You don't want to be driving down a steep, winding incline and go "ACK! Motherfucker! Jesus Cocksucking H Christ!" with six sweet little Hmong kids in the back. But had they NOT been in there...
Actually, although almost everything is better today, my instep is still cramping. Not painfully, it's just tensing up. Weird. It's like when you have one of those muscle twitches.
Knee: Ahem. Oh, um, excuse me. Just a little, well, never mind. I'm okay, don't worry about me.
Back: [Looks morose, hoping I'll notice and ask what's wrong.]
Calves: Hey, watch it, jackass! [Only when I actually flex or extend them. They're only mildly annoyed, as they feel this way several times a month after a particularly strenuous yoga or ballet class.]
Achilles tendon: AUUUGGGGHHHH!!! Whew, I'm okay. [Several minutes pass.] AUUUUGGGGHHH!!!
Instep: I'm just going to cramp up here, but it won't be painful. I just want to remind you that I've been working, too. Little throbbing coming your way...
Knee: Oh my! Oh, heh, nothing, don't mind me.
Back: [Pouts a little.]
Calves: HEY!
Achilles tendon: . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .AAAAUUUUUUGGGGHHHHH!!!!!!
Seriously, everything else was just a little sore, but my right achilles tendon was occasionally sending this crazy shooting pain in two directions. It was the kind of thing that almost made me cuss, and I actually had to take some deep breaths to keep myself collected in front of the kids. You don't want to be driving down a steep, winding incline and go "ACK! Motherfucker! Jesus Cocksucking H Christ!" with six sweet little Hmong kids in the back. But had they NOT been in there...
Actually, although almost everything is better today, my instep is still cramping. Not painfully, it's just tensing up. Weird. It's like when you have one of those muscle twitches.
Night Hike
I almost totally forgot that Thursday evening we went on a night hike. We didn't use flashlights, just the starlight and what little ambient light there was. At times, I really couldn't see a thing, and it would be quite a surprise to step into a marshy patch. There was a real possibility of losing our way, too. I'm sure that at one point we were off the actual path, because we were going in groups of three with space between each group, and if you lost sight of the group ahead of you, there was no way to know which way to go. It was exciting. I was also able to spot the big dipper, which I'm usually bad at. On the way back, we learned about "talking signposts." The first group would wait at a crossroads until the next group showed up, then take off, and the second group would wait for the third group and so on. That way, whenever you came to a crossroads, there was always someone to tell you which way to go. I got to talk at length with one of the parents, who had actual mountaineering experience and has climbed Shasta, McKinley, and Whitney. He also taught us techniques for saving our muscles on uphill climbs.
Cinnamon
Tee hee! I'm kind of enjoying not having my own photos. Mine wouldn't be this good anyway! This is like what I saw Saturday night, except from farther away and on a Dumpster. But apparently Cinnamon was 4-500 pounds and not very friendly. I liked watching him walk; he moved kind of like a mountain lion, all muscular and sinewy. It was quite graceful, actually. I was surprised that he climbed the ladder backwards rather than jumping off or something. Very dexterous.
Merced Grove
I have no idea who this kid is, since I'm still stealing random people's photos from Flickr, but this is in Merced Grove, and there was about that much snow on the ground when we hiked through it. We had a lot of fun measuring the giant sequoias and having snowball fights. Some of my students had never before touched snow. It was really cool to be with them when they did for the first time. Trust me that they lost NO time figuring out how to make snowballs. They even made a tiny snowman!
Half Dome
We didn't actually go anywhere near Half Dome, but we didn't have to -- you can see it from every main road in the valley. It's strange to have such a familiar landmark always visible. It's like, you're eating a sandwich, and there's Half Dome. It's really impressive.
Nevada Falls
We saw the falls from this viewpoint once, but a little earlier on in our hike, we actually had a better view, which is not available on Flickr apparently. We were across a little valley from the bottom of the falls.
vernal falls
Okay, this is one of the views we got. This is what we saw from the bottom of the long set of misty stairs. We sat and ate lunch on a huge slab of warm rock overlooking the rushing water at the top of this, which is actually not nearly as impressive a view, although it does give you a nice close-up of the rushing water, which is an unusually clear lime-green color. It was only about .8 miles to this vista, but it was almost another mile to the top.
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