Back from the Midwest

The BF and I went to my brother's house for a big, fat, Greek Thanksgiving and had an amazing time! Mom flew in with one of my nieces from California, an added bonus, and it was wonderful to see everyone! My brother's in-laws are a great group of people and the BF made quite a hit. In fact, he spent nearly all of Thanksgiving evening surrounded by the locals who were fascinated by his every word. The trip wasn't perfect, however. We flew back Saturday morning, both of us suffering from food poisoning. (I'm sure that it was the sausage brought by one of the cousins.) It made for an uncomfortable flight back. When we got to Cincinnati, where we transfered to another plane, we decided to see if we could get put on an earlier flight. The minute we got off the plane the BF realized that he was too sick to carry his bags alone. He asked one of the agents for one of the wheelchairs sitting nearby. However, he opened with, "Um, I've been poisoned and..." at which point I interrupted and said, "FOOD poisoning! FOOD poisoning!" We wheeled the bags over to the service counter where, fortunately, the two gay boys on the job were very helpful. We arrived home and spent yesterday recovering. We're both feeling much better today and are just happy to be home instead of on the road. Despite the uggy-tummy I had a great time with the family. I really don't get to seen enough of them and don't have any immediate plans to see them again. Clearly, this is something I have to fix.

BebeMoche's Cupcakes Still Yummy, Even As Day-Olds!

Of course, the empty wrappers which the BF leaves on the kitchen counters better not last a day!

Speaking of the crazies...

Today I had one of those subway rides which remind me to never leave the apartment without my iPod. Coming home from my haircut (it's super cute, btw), I was sitting there reading the back of the advent calendars I'd bought my nephews. Some random guy comes in and squeezes in between me and the cute woman next to me. First he starts to try to talk with her, but she was smart enough to keep her iPod on full blast... either that or she pretended to be deaf or French or whatever. Anyhow, he turns to me and starts with "How you doin'?" Totally defenseless and giving anyone the benefit of the doubt, I tell him I'm good, how's he. He's fine, so I'm steering clear of the New York assholes? Well, I don't find that New York has an exceptional amount of assholes, really. Well, he feels sometimes like he's walking around with a neon sign that says "Fuck Me" on it. That's too bad, it shouldn't be like that, is he from New York? No, he's from Cleveland. Does he ever think of going back? Well, his whole family wants him back home, his mom, his aunt, his cousins, his brother... I have to interrupt and tell him that it's my stop. He hopes that God blesses me and I tell him to take it easy. I leave, even though it's really not my stop. The stop I normally take is one further on. But it's only an extra couple of blocks to walk it home, all the time thinking about how desperate this guy must be to spill out as he was beginning to to a complete stranger. Doesn't he have friends to talk to? Co-workers? A therapist? Has he alienated everyone around him? And yet, despite the fact that there is this part of me that wants to listen and make him feel better, the stronger and smarter part of me tells me to run as fast as possible. I don't know the rest of his story, but if experience has taught me anything, it's how to recognize an emotional black hole. I hope him the best, but I can't help him.

oh dear, oh dear, oh dear...

Gentle Readers,

BebeMoche has gone mad! Please write to her and help her understand that I only denied the baking of the cupcakes! I do so fear for her sanity. I believe the the fugly slut... I mean, the poor dear in need of support who steals her desk, has pushed her too far. Oh BebeMoche, I fear for you the deluge of comments you will soon be receiving on your blog! I hope it doesn't overwhelm your bandwidth!

Libel!

BebeMoche's story about me inspiring her malevolent poetry about her "coworker" this afternoon is nothing but a vicious lie! Okay, so maybe I WAS at her apartment this afternoon... and maybe I WAS present while stories about a certain "coworker" were being told... and maybe, just maybe I did let slip a word or two about the character of a type of person, in a global sense, who might be so misguided as to try to steal a chair or whatever. But the absolute truth of the matter, despite whatever BebeMoche might otherwise try to have you believe, is that I only WATCHED as SHE made the cupcakes! (And I got to lick the bowl! Yum!)

Busy Indeed!

I've been remiss in blogging lately, primarily since the last couple of weeks have been grading and parent/teacher conferencing. It's always an interesting time meeting the parents of my students. I form impressions about my students' personalities from the way they are in class and I know that I don't have the full picture. So it's always interesting to meet the parents and see just how much one student's eyes match his father's, how another acts just like her mother. Then again, sometimes it's not so much fun. I have one student in my ninth grade who takes some work. I taught him two years ago and he was intelligent, needing attention, already tall for his age, all of which added up to him being something of a smartass. I didn't teach him last year and this year he's mellowed quite a bit. He's still somewhat snarky, but he's also much like my brothers... I guess that I just get him. Anyhow, when last I met his parents his father kept implying that I was sugar-coating my summartion of his son's behavior and character, that I was somehow protecting him. I was as tactful as I possibly could be with him and said something along the lines of "I'm trying to give you an honest assessment, I don't think that it's the right thing to go looking for reasons to fault your son." I was trying to imply that he was looking only at the bad and not at the good, a point I think he got. This year we met a second time and, once again, my student's father was certain that I had given his son a better grade than he deserved. It bothered me some that he was implying that I'd lied, that my grading was dishonest and unfair. But what really bothers me is that my student's father has already decided that his son is horrible and worthless, no matter what anybody tells him. It disturbs me that this is the primary belief this man holds about his son, that this is what my student is going to have engraved on his psyche, that this is the picture he's forming/formed of himself. And then there's just the fact that the father's a fugly dick and I just don't like him. Fortunately, most of the parents were wonderful and it was overall a good experience.

I got home at almost eight in the evening exhausted. The BF completed a MAJOR milestone in his project so he felt like doing something fun. Turns out that the new Harry Potter film opened at midnight so we went for the showing. I wasn't crazy about the first two films, but I enjoy fantasy so I go to see them. They are spectacular visually and I love the way that they create an entire world. However, the plots and characters are mind-numbingly boring. The third was the first one I liked, really, and I went hoping that they were on a roll. No such luck. Also, the theater was packed with a strange-ass crowd. I mean, I realize that we went with the fanatics, but they clapped at the opening notes of the theme song! Seriously, I was blown away by their foolishness. At one point someone dies and during the eulogy someone near us was bawling. It wasn't even a really central or even a recurring character and they totally lost it! It's a freekin' guilty pleasure, not cinematic art! Anyhow, the Goblet of Fire is nothing special. Fun to look at, tragically lame otherwise. And I got only about three hours of sleep before I had to get up for the day-long faculty meeting and other excess bullshit for today. Ho hum.

OMG!

Okay, so it's been forever and a day since I last posted. Got kind of wrapped up in a bunch of other BS but this link has broken me out of the funk. Now, first of all, let me say that there is a part of me that sympathizes greatly with the young man involved, I remember a time when I would lip-synch to music myself... even perform in the shower. However, what follows is not for the weak of stomach. (I personally do not know how bad it gets, I shut the viewer window moments into the performance.) Enjoy!