felt

go forth and procure this book: American Wife

American Wife: A Novel (New York Times Notable Books)

Curtis Sittenfeld

God, it's so hot here in Virginia.  It's a wet heat.  sopping.  humid.  I go from the air conditioned car to the house and I can feel the sweat starting in my hair and dripping down to join the sweat on my face and soon top of the head to small of the back, it ain't pretty.  This is the time of the year that blow drying my hair is not an option, the sweat beats the blow dryer by about 5-1.  Already, I've found myself lying on the hard wood floor directly in front of the a/c vent on 72 degrees, just so I can get my bra on.  (that's a nice visual)

I don't know when the profuse sweating started.  I always had upper lip and nose sweat.  slowly, it has encroached over my entire head.  it's disgusting.  embarrassing.  mortifying.

Bob's grandfather has his 90th birthday coming up in two weeks, in R.I., it will be a real classy affair-pig roast and tables in a garage, but already I'm wondering what I am going to do about the sweat.  Hat's actually make it worse.  People stare.  Technically these are my "people" so politeness would seem to say...let it ride.  But no, there will be pointing and laughing and lots of stares. 

One year, when on vacation in New England, I actually walked around with a towel on my head, like a turban.  It was a LOOK let me tell you.

I'm currently considering strategically placed ice packs.  Anyone have an alternative? And no, the alternative cannot be not attending.  I must attend.

language alert.  I will be using foul language in this post, if you can't stomach it...you've been warned.

Ok, I work in a preschool.  Mike Rowe should come and spend the day because it IS the world's dirtiest job.  I thought flying spit, snot, and wiping butts was bad enough, until the day that my whole class revealed that at recess they put worms in their pockets and had been sitting criss cross applesauce for 20 minutes (that's "indian style" to all you non-pc types).  It was basically worm sludge at that point.

Now, preschool ended last week.  However this week, we are closing down our classrooms because those "damn kids from vacation bible school and boy scouts" use our rooms.  My director basically wants our stuff behind Fort Knox like defenses, with booby traps and false openings.  But, I digress.

Unless you've been living under a rock, you all know about the hoo ha of swine flu.  Now, we basically just bathe ourselves in purell every day, and shove tissues at the kids constantly, but not until AFTER the kids have left for the summer, does said director come up with this brilliant thought.  BEGINNING TOMORROW WE WILL BE DISINFECTING EVERY ITEM THAT THE KIDS TOUCHED THIS YEAR. Which to me, would have been a sensible precaution to do, oh, every FRIDAY, not at the END OF THE FREAKING YEAR!  Lysol the suckers down at least.  But no, NOW it's rubber gloves and bleach and "simple green" (FULL STRENGTH, oh the horror!) and since it's pouring this week here, towels in the classroom to dry off each peg, puzzle peice, lego block, plastic horse. etc.  And, just to make sure we're doing it correctly, we have to do it IN FRONT OF CRAZY DIRECTOR who basically is just supervising and criticizing at this point.  NOT HELPING, nooooo, just watching and commenting (ooh, there's a smudge there, and ooh I see crayon on the bottom of that, etc.)

So, two or three more days of this and then...sweet freedom, I'm outta there.  I might need to be exorcised after this week.

Hey, there was hardly any language at all in this post!

Chocolate

The struggle with food began in earnest for me when I went away during college to England for a half semester.  I had a room, with a bed, a three tiered shelf and a desk.  I was lonely, cold, wet, scared, and insecure.  Luckily, one block down was a convenience store.  Now, England is not known for it's culinary delights, however, in terms of junk food, I'd probably place it at number one.  Every day, I stocked my little shelf full of junk.  I'd arrange it and inventory it and replace what had been eaten.  Most of it was sugar, cadbury chocolate and the occasional salty bag of crisps.  Every evening, I'd drown the bad feelings with snacks and milky, sugary tea.  hob nobs, prawn crisps, golden crumble (which I think is actually an Australian thing).

Well, I came home and tried to mend my ways.  However, since I was a homebody, I became a closet eater.  At night.  In the kitchen.  Before anyone else was around.  Back at college, I hoarded food in my room.  Finally, after my mom died, my metabolism caught up with me and the weight "stuck" around long enough for me to go on rigorous diets, lose the weight, and then eat in oblivion again.

Why burden you with this tonight?  I'm hungry.  I've been doing fabulously compulsively well on this round of calorie counting and journalling.  But, today, I've been starving all day.  I've been trying to work out what emotional thing I'm trying to force down with food (albeit diet food) but haven't gotten it yet.  I was hoping this would help. 

Maybe it's the end of the school year.  Maybe it's the unkown of next year.  Maybe it's the long, long summer in front of me.  Who knows?  Anxiety however, is lurking about.

So, my calories consumed, I'll be having a big glass of water and retiring with some mind numbing t.v.

wow.  what a year!  Preschool (with kids) is done.  We have two or three days of packing, sanitizing, and inventory-taking then we'll really be done.  I've missed blogging, but felt like if I started up again, I wouldn't be able to keep up with it, but I'm going to try.

I'm going to attempt to fill in the last year in short bursts.  Working backwards.  The crazy thing is that I am once again on the weight loss wagon.  JUST like last year.  Today I'm frustrated to think...I'm losing the same 20 freaking pounds every year!  This year, though, I've gotten a nutritionist and I'm using "sparkpeople.com" which is amazing and you should totatlly check it out if you are at all interested in tracking your nutrition, exercise, or calories.

Also, similar to last year, I've gotten a new job.   In September, I'll be teaching severe special needs for the local public school system.  I'm really excited for this.  The past year teaching preschool with the disastrous director did have a good side...I felt "the fire" for working with kids who have needs, that aren't being addressed.  So, I'll be addressing their needs and mine starting in the fall.  Full time, five days a week.  With relatively the same schedule as my girls, so that will be a plus.  AND, of course, there's that little thing...money.  ALL my pay won't go to therapy bills now, some might actually come back to me and let me have a little more freedom in that department.

So, to wrap up.  I'll leave you for now with my favorite new blog www.cakewrecks.blogspot.com .  I also am enjoying www.bookswim.com, which is like netflix for books (no more late dues for me ladies!), and my passion for the REAL HOUSEWIVES of New York and New Jersey (California and Atlanta...unwatchable) and a blast from the past...Golden Girls.  Man, Bea Arthur was the best. 

Well, both the therapist AND the shrink have agreed.  I need to make an appointment with the cardiologist.  I have had a thu-thump-thump for about 10 years now.  Until my daughter was born (when I had high blood pressure and gestational diabetes) it was only when I got really anxious and all the docs said, anxiety is causing an adrenaline rush...yada, yada, yada.  Since Lola was born, when I exercise, especially at the beginning of a session I sometimes get a thu-WHUMP-thump, which then goes away.  So, of course, my mind immediately goes to chest cracking open heart surgery where they implant a baboon heart and I am given six weeks to live (same old story, different disease).  They even mentioned the 24 hour monitor (I'm familiar with that Ava wore one when she was a week old b/c of a fast heart rate, but it was ok.)

So, I'm stomping my feet like a baby because I'm scared.

I did just finish hula hooping, lots of sweat but no thumps.

I guess I'll be eating less fried foods, and more broiled food. 

(insert mental picture of me holding my head in my hands, and wiping the sweat from my brow)  you got it.

Snowy here today, so I'm making portugese kale soup, which my neighbor's grandma used to make when I lived in Massachusetts.  I have no idea how I got this recipe into my head, but it's stuck there.  She was also famous for fried bologna, something I've never made.  I guess she was famous for any kind of processed meat product.  hmmmm. 

Into a large stock pot put:

1 chopped onion about fist sized

5 large red potatoes cut up in bite sized chunks (I leave the skin on)

olive oil to coat

then add:

1 very large can or 2 regular size cans of red kidney beans

1 package of kielbasa or smoked turkey kielbasa (sausage) Chop it however you wish.  (Sometimes I use only half and put the rest in a quiche.  You could also throw it in some tomato sauce for pasta or grill it.)

and 1 package fresh or frozen kale, I've also used chopped collard greens.  Works great.

then immediately add:

1 large can of chicken stock and about 8 cups of water.

Simmer for a few hours.  Season.  Serve with crusty bread.  Yum.

You've been warned.  Read at your own risk!  Last week, I started taking fish oil and flax seed oil capsules.  On Sunday.  On Monday morning, I went to work and peed and literally knocked myself off my feet.  The smell!  Good Lord, what happened in here?  The kids aren't even here yet and this place smells horrible!  Like old coffee grounds and something dead.  ugh.  On Wednesday, I came home and thought, "holy shit" the cat peed in my bed...and it smells like.... old coffee grounds and a dead fish?  wait a minute...have you ever tried to smell your own crotch while standing up?  nice mental image...well, I got a faint odor of ... yup, old coffee grounds and fish.  completely disgusting.  So, for the past two days, I've been wearing a scented panty liner and that seems to be helping, plus my body seems to be getting used to the capsules, so less stink.

Why would anyone submit to this?  Well, supposedly, these pills are MIRACLE workers, I tell you.  They help depression (got that) high blood pressure (occasionally got that, especially at the doctors, where they check those things, heart palpitations (yup, got those) and joint paint (when riding my bike)...so we'll see.  It's also supposed to help with abdominal fat (definitely got that).  I would smell like a decaying dog if I could melt away some abdominal fat. 

In other news of aging and body decay, I broke a tooth during snack time at preschool on a freaking animal cracker!  A back tooth, which apparently was being held together by about 16 different fillings.  So, they ground it down, ground the area around my tooth to little shredded bits of bloody gum and jammed an ill fitting temporary up there.  I come home and immediately start the "what if it's going to hurt later, it IS hurting, it IS later, and bingo the phone rings.  Can I come back in now, they forgot something.  Uh oh, so back in I go, they pry off the temporary, scrape off all the cement, OUCH, more novocaine, than take a wonderful impression where I swear all my teeth felt like they were being hauled out at the end and then jammed that temporary BACK in.

Now I have a nice ulcer in my gums.  lovely. 

So, why do I have tons of "baby fat" around my middle and have grandma teeth at the same time?  I am a delight to live with right now.

A freaking delight!

However, it is snowing, so hopefully tomorrow I can post pics of that.

If you've read this at all...you'll know...I am a doctor PHO (phobic).  I used to know a woman who wouldn't go to the dentist and I thought she was loony.   Well, look who's loony now!  My last woman's yearly was six years ago after an excruciating pregnancy, which had lots of half assed medical intervention. So, on Friday, after weeks and weeks and weeks of talk therapy, EMDR (don't ask), visualization, and positive thoughts I went to the doctor.  She did not pronounce me dead on arrival.  She did not feel anything unusual.  She didn't see anything unusual in my blood tests, other than that I have unbefreakinglievalbe good levels of cholesterol.  Which hands down proves, that diet does not have jack shit to do with cholesterol.  Anyway.  I made it.  out.  alive.  With a prescription for a mammogram (next step) and for the dermatologist (moles, rosacea, etc.)

So, both my therapists said I need to celebrate.  Something just for myself.  and I can't think of anything except for a pedicure, but since no one sees my toes right now, I'm thinking not.  So, anyone got a good idea for a celebration that does not involve a tattoo?

I've posted a LOT, some would say ad nauseum, about my hopeless job situation and my current boss.  Well, one of the teachers had a small "invitation only" luncheon recently, which was lovely, but it quickly went from polite inquiries, to questions, to gossip, to slander, all the way down to tears.  At one point, I posed the following question.  Here we are, five very intelligent and competent grown-ass women who are scared to death of one other woman.  Why?  The quick answer comes down to the fact that she's the boss, and we don't have an HR department to go to.  We don't even have a board representative from the church to come down and sit in on meetings (which i think should happen).  Everyone voiced their fears of "not getting a good referral" WHEN (not if) they leave.  I was really mad.  It was like tearing blinders off the others to get everyone to realize that we don't need a referral from her, we need referrals from each other, from the parents whose children we are teaching, or from the other professionals who come in and out of our classrooms.

We decided to start small, and bring up one item for discussion per staff meeting.  I asked the group to e mail me their one item. I think we are up to about 25 now.  This ship is sinking.  I KNOW I'm not the only one out there who works for someone completely incompetent.  I question whether she has some memory issues.  I question whether she has a heart!  Why are we so afriad of conflict?  She's reduced me to tears a number of times, and it's a horrible feeling!  Does she realize this?  Does she feel bad?  Should I care?

Recently I've been getting a lot of outside affirmations about my skills as a special educator and that I should be working someplace where those skills will be utilized.  Which has improved my confidence.  However, is it going to take someone going bat-shit insane on this woman for everyone to get their heads around the fact that she's an incompetent, inappropriate leader?