On raspberries, weird teachers, and my "due date"

Zadie is blowing raspberries these days (the Bronx cheer). If you haven't seen an infant, especially an extremely cute one, do this, then you are missing out. There is little cuter than a tiny tongue poking out in order to make rude noises. I love it. I tried to get video but she wasn't cooperating.

A new Spanish teacher proved herself to be way behind the times today. Apparently she's giving lessons on how to read card catalogs, like, from libraries. Like twenty years ago. The librarian happened to be there and told her they didn't use those -- that most libraries used the computer now. She said "well, there are some libraries that still use them." He answered "I hope not." Next I understand that she'll be teaching the students how to crank-start a Model A. In Spanish.

We were invited to dinner at a teacher friend's house. I've never met anyone so happy to be getting divorced. He feels free to play the piano again, have dinner parties, and, apparently, get baked after dinner. I really like this guy (who won't get a blog nickname, for fear someone might recognize him), but he is undoubtedly odd, fiercely pounding the posters on the wall n passionate displays of affection, skipping to the piano to pound out little snippets of song... We had a nice time, though -- a lovely dinner in a cute house with effusive company.

On a downer note, I was asked AGAIN when I was due. He backed out of it by saying he misunderstood an announcement at the first staff meeting (the principal was congratulating those of us who had recently had babies or were expecting, and he did sort of mix them up). But that's it, dude: as soon as I get paid next, I'm joining Weight Watchers again. I don't mean to make excuses for myself, but the booby drugs from Vanuatu (that make me have more breastmilk) are also appetite stimulants, and most of the women on them have trouble losing weight until they quit. Still, I have to try.

Okay, off to play with the punkinhead.