Untitled.

For Joe...

2006-05-14T21:14:00.000-07:00

Shout out to Stef-a-poo-poo. He wanted a new post. So here ya go.

There are many things I am tempted to write about tonight. I have a lot on my mind. Nothing bad. Nothing melodramatic enough to blog it. I haven't yet found the right use for this thing. It's not a diary...well it shouldn't be. I am well aware that some people use it as one. God knows what some teenager has plucked out from his keyboard about me...some God awful half-truth about me..."Oh that fat bitch..." Yeah, something like that...a HALF-truth...you decide which half is which.

I could spin some tales of my own. Some classroom horror stories ranging from blatant incompetence... "Boo Radley is, like, black, right?" ..."Wrong." To what basically borders on emotional abuse...an iron man competition between me and a 15 year old mental midget with acne... "GET OUT OF MY CLASSROOM!" ..."Yeah, well it doesn't matter! It's not like I respect authority." ... "Well, goodness, %^&* that's the smartest, most perceptive thing you've said all year."

I hear that prison is hard time...grueling, back-breaking Brokeback Mountain type work... 25 years for a full pension and health insurance in the instution of education - not the big house, but the school house, isn't much better.

How was that Joe? Somewhat ranty, but that's what I'm doing right now, so that's all I got.

Back in the Saddle...

2006-02-26T18:16:00.000-08:00

So, the show opened this weekend and it's crazy. I was so nervous. I felt like a real rookie. It's weird. Ten years ago, I couldn't see myself doing anything but acting. It was what I wanted to do. Then, in college, I directed so much - before this weekend, I hadn't been on stage since I did Our Town in 2000. That was a LONG time ago. I felt like I was doing it for the first time. And, I was really intimidated...the other actors had a lot of training...and the worst was when Marie asked us for headshots...and I was like, uh..... All I had a was a picture of me and my niece. lol... So next to all of the other headshots is a random picture of Ang and I....lol

The first show was really rough...I was worried...I thought WHAT AM I DOING? But Saturday night, once I got up there, I felt like I was 16 again. I was in place. I was where I belonged.

I don't know what is going to come next, but I am keeping with the way I've been doings things. I am just waiting for something to come my way...let the cosmos make things happen...I'm up for anything.

2006...Resolutions anyone?

2006-01-01T08:39:00.000-08:00

Another lap completed, another lap begun in the race of life. Oh, sheer brilliance. Someone quick! Write that down!

I share in the complete surprise that another year has been put to rest. Yes, I own a calendar; it should not have been so shocking. It is too cliche to say that this year flew. To a certain extent, it didn't. Some of it was slow and sweet. Spring seemed like a stroll. Immediately followed by a runaway train summer that was happier than I could have ever expected given the circumstances.

Lots of lolling over was done in my 2005. I think I thought too much. Over thinking brings over analyzing brings over-self-scrutiny...I made that last one up and it works because I used a hyphen.

It was a year of surprises. I surprised myself more than anyone or anything else did. I developed a relationship with my sister that I never thought I'd have. I lived differently. I got a New Year's resolution seven whole months late. Yet, I've stuck to it. I'm happier than I've been in a really long time...which is pretty amazing given that I am generally a happy person to start. At nearing 26 I feel most like myself than I ever have. Things seem to be under control here.

With the most important New Year's resolution now a full five months old today, I have room to spare for a new resolution. At this time, I'd like to thank my friend Steve for an inspiring asskicking on Friday night. If there were to be a resolution for 2006, then he penned it on a paper napkin at the Telephone Bar in NYC over some Red Stripes and a few cigarettes. However, I think I'm leaving this year's blank.

When the ball dropped last night, I began to think about Eves past. In the ten second countdown I would usually do a fast mental recap of the year's events with footnotes of what I liked about those moments and what I would have changed. Then, with seconds to spare, I'd make a wish, visualize what I'd like to see in next year's montage. This year, however, I was dry. I saw everything that happened, but I could not muster up even the faintest image of what is to come. I wonder how I would have panicked about this in years past. Does the absence of a futuristic vision mean no future at all? Is it death? Does it mean I have lost my sense of imagination? Or of hope? A year wiser, I think that it means that 2006 will be a year that cannot be imagined. For whatever reason, it wants to drop no hints. It needs to open slowly and reveal itself when it is ready.

In 2005, I learned patience. In 2006, I shall learn to put patience to practice.

Happy New Year.

True Loves...

2005-10-29T20:42:00.000-07:00

I have two. Counting Crows and Ben Folds. All roads seem to lead back to them. Lately, it's been Crows. One song in particular. It's a rare one - "Barely Out of Tuesday" --- here's my favorite verse.

And all this distance aint going to bring you to me
what's the point of all this patience
its not your nature
you just keep what you need
and you got some pictures of me

Hmmmmm...I don't know. I just can listen to that over and over. I love how he can be so cryptic.

I'll be back onto Ben next week when I see him for the fourth time in 3 months...thinking about quitting teaching to become a groupie.

We'll see....

A Dinner Conversation with My Parents

2005-10-17T10:51:00.000-07:00

Setting: Sevilla Spain Restaurant in Parsippany, NJ. Last night.

Characters: MOM, my mother. DAD, my father. STEF, my sister. ME, me. ANGELINA, my niece. WAITER.

MOM: So last night we talking...
ME: Who's we?
MOM: Daddy and me.
STEF: Oh...
DAD: We've made a decision.
MOM: We want another one.
ME: Another what?
MOM and DAD gesture towards ANGELINA.
ME: Uh...
STEF: Well....
ME: Uh...
MOM: What do you think?
STEF: I think that's impossible right now seeing as Jason is busy sleeping with my ex-friend...
ME: And, I'm sorta missing a vital part of the equation...
DAD: We know. But we have an idea...
MOM: Yes, when Jason comes next to see the baby...
STEF: I steal his sperm?
MOM: Well, let's face it...the only good thing he's ever done is...
DAD: procreate.
MOM: Artificial insemination.
ME: Enough.
DAD: What?
ME: Enough! This is getting bizarre.
MOM: We're just being honest about our feelings.
ME: You want one of your daughters to steal the sperm of her exfiance and you want me to have a child out wedlock.
STEF: Are you guys on drugs?
ME: Most of my friends parents would kill them if they got pregnant...and you're requesting that I do so?
WAITER: Can I get you something to drink?
ME: A pitcher of sangeria.
STEF: Make that two.

******This conversation is true. Completely, entirely true.

I Think I'm Getting Old.

2005-10-11T22:02:00.000-07:00

I think I'm getting old. Seriously, I am. Well, forget seriously - LITERALLY I am. This isn't some sort of midlife crisis sorta post either. I can actually form a thesis regarding this problem. Because it is a scientific/philosophical issue, I shall phrase my thesis in a manner that would be appreciated by certain college professors whose name might rhyme with Farry Smaas...who also repeatedly reduced my grade on his papers because I refused to go against my many years of education to never write a FORMULAIC thesis that sounds something like this, "In the following essay I will prove that Farry Smaas is a phony asshole who wishes that his name actually rhymes with Farry Smudini."

And so, my essay...

I am getting old. In this essay I will prove that I am getting old through the following reasons: I am now a full 10 years older than my students, I was embarrassed to go into Hollister, and I found a long, random hair growing out of my neck today.

I am now a full 10 years older than my students. They were born in 1990 and 1991. I find that to be frightening. My difference in age is consistently accentuated by the fact that they do not understand my many references to OJ Simpson and Jeffrey Dommer. Therefore, I am getting old.

I was embarrassed to go into Hollister. I tried doing this last weekend with my sister, who is, I can honestly say, more hip than most people, including me, will EVER be. I was there to buy her clothes for her birthday (which was in July) (Why am I buying her clothes now, you wonder? Because, in addition to getting old, I am getting poor...but that's for another essay). Upon arriving at the store, we noticed that there were two stairs that led to the entrance, but my niece and her stroller made entrance via the stairs an impossibility. We had to open the "window doors" and squeeze past a display to get into Hollister. This was when I began feeling old. The clientele was 10 years or more younger than us. We left. Upon exiting Hollister, my sister looked at me and we had the following exchange:

Stef: Uh.
Me: I...uh...
Stef: Right?
Me: I know.
Stef: Like 12 or 13 at most.
Me: I know.
Stef: Where were their mothers?
Me: We're getting old. (Then, I walked away to investigate a white Jerzey sweat shirt with an iron on puppy and sunflower applique that caught my eye.)

Therefore, I am getting old.

While looking in the mirror today I spotted a hair growing out of my neck. I noticed the hair. I never thought it could actually be GROWING out of my neck. I went to brush it away, but it did not move. It stayed. It was anchored tightly to my pore. It actually required removal by tweezer. This would be an occurrence chiefly experience by little old ladies. Therefore, I am getting old.

I am getting old because I am ten years older than my sister, I can't go into Hollister, and because I found a hair growing out of my neck. Therefore, I am getting old.

SO THERE FARRY! YOU MAGICIAN WANNA BE! GO BE WITH YOUR FRIZZY HAIRED WIFE AND LEARN HOW TO WRITE A REAL THESIS!!!!

Feeling political

2005-08-23T20:12:00.000-07:00

1. Anthony Weiner will not win the mayoral race in NYC because he looks to much like Jim McGreevey and his last name, for God's sake, is WEINER...how many paralells must one draw here???

2. ABC is debuting a drama this fall about a woman president....hmmmmmm....I wonder why????

3. I don't like to talk politics with friends. However, I am just going to say this because I feel like some of my friends are grossly misinformed. And, try to hear this without bias, just fact. Cathy Sheehan has already met with President Bush. Her son is one of many fallen heroes who pledged their life for the safety of ours. He was a volunteer. He enlisted. He joined on his own accord. There are, however, many benefits to enlisting as he did. A free education being one of these benefits. One must, therefore, understand that one cannot have the benefits without fulfilling his or her duty. Maybe he never thought he'd go to war, but that's not the point. Doing as he did is a risk. Lots of people do it. Granted not all end up in Iraq, but it's part of the deal. --- Cindy, we feel for your loss. The entire country shoulders your burden, but your son's death is not one person's doing. Move on.

I hate titles.

2005-08-18T19:13:00.000-07:00

I didnt want a title. And, I might not even use punctuation today...so there. Yeah, that's right - an ENGLISH teacher not wanting to use proper punctuation. I'm tired. So sue me.

I havent written in a while. Being a lunch day can be exhausting. I didn't know how exhausting it can be. I like being a lunch lady - perhaps too much. If my parents, who are my bosses, could afford me, I'd make it my career. But, I dont know how long I'd last.

Being a lunch lady is a lot different than being a teacher. I dont have to get in front of a class of whiny kids and teach them about stuff that I love but that they hate. I dont assign homework. I dont have to grade any papers. I dont have to talk to their parents when they are failing. I dont have to yell at them to stop talking.

But then again being a lunch lady is a lot like being a teacher. I sit at a counter and have to hear adults whine about how we dont sell enough stuff for lunch --- Let me explain. I work in a cafe-a-closet (like a cafeteria only it's just an old converted store room that's on the same walk in level as the underground parking garage, need I say more?). I do not have a stove. I do not have an oven. I have a sink and a fridge. Any food that comes in is made my mother and sister at the real cafeteria next door. And yet - YET!!! We have: sandwiches (6 different kinds), a full salad bar (with stuff on it like POACHED FRIGGIN SALMON!!!), rolls, bagels, muffins, HOMEMADE soup, yogurt, chips, candy, jello, fruit, fruit salad, pudding, yogurt smoothies, ETC ETC... and these WHINY people complain that we dont have enough to eat. They say things like, "Is the pasta fagioli good?" And they say fa-jol-ee not fa-zool like someone would who KNOWS what the hell they're talking about. And I say, "Yes." And they say, "Oh, you're just saying that cause you work here." And I say, "No, I'm saying that because my mother made it and I've been eating it almost every Friday night for the last 25 years, asshole." I usually omit the asshole part, but when it said aloud, I kinda mutter it as to diffuse any further conflict. I don't assign homework here, yet I find myself doing homework for this job. I make all kinds of nifty signs for the soup of the day and the specials. I put the soup signs on the front door, on the crock pot, and on the counter and people will still ask "What's the soup today?" I don't have to talk to their parents, but I'm tempted to talk to their bosses. This one guy grabbed a fork and began TASTING STUFF OFF THE SALAD BAR!! I was like HEY BUDDY! ARE YOU RETARDED??? And tell them to stop talking? Sorta... I've got another guy who complains EVERY DAY that we charge tax. So finally I looked at him and said, "Do you pay tax when go to the grocery store? How about in a restaurant? Wouldn't the IRS be mad if YOU didn't pay YOUR taxes? Well, they hold us to the same standards." ASSHOLE. Grrr. SHUT UP!

Please don't get me wrong, I like my job, but some people are just plain stupid.

Ughsters.

2005-07-18T17:21:00.000-07:00

This entry shall hereby be referred to as ughsters because, well, that's how I feel right now. UGH. Big huge UGH.

Without getting into too much detail, some things in life just plain suck. Here you are - happy little so-and-so going about your life, doing the right thing, minding your own business and BAM! Life fucking slams you in the ass. Like, "Hey there, buddy! Don't get so comfy!" Your fiance (not mine...not that I have one...not that I want one necessarily...I am perfectly content with my unengaged self right now, even though all of my friends are getting married - it's going around like the fucking plague...ANYWAY!!!) walks out on you or our boss fires you (after rehiring you...not me either) and you're left feeling like all was for naught. Like, what the fuck? Why work so hard and get shit on in the end???

I don't know...I can't help but feel like that's not the case. Perhaps it's the optimist in me (yes, optimist...I am one...even though my friends try to tell me I'm not...I still, optimistically, believe in my optimism and, in an act of optimistic defiance, feel obligated to go forth through life from hereon out spreading this optimism which I feel whole-heartedly) but I believe that everything happens for a reason. I know, it sounds like a lame way to explain away all of life's fuck-ups, but if for no other reason than having a shitty way to explain away such fuck-ups, I like it. And, I do believe it to be true. In the end, the finance will pay (hopefully with a shit load of STDs and a 25 to life term) and the boss will get what he deserves (for lack of a better punishment - a shitload of STDs...).

Karma comes around. However, sometimes karma takes its time. And I may be an optimist, but I am certainly NOT patient. So, I am resorting to an old Italian curse. Here's how it's done: You write someone's name on a piece of paper and put it in your freezer. It guarantees something bad will happen to them (see the STD wishes above). Yeah, so there! Don't fuck with Italian folklore!

Anyway, I have to run...there's this walk-in freezer I want to look at and I have to get Staples before they close...I need some poster board...............for the freezer.

NJ Parkway

2005-07-03T22:17:00.000-07:00

Marie, Guy, and I ventured down the NJ Parkway to Joe Stef-a-poo-poo's graduation party in Brick, NJ. A normal 1 hour long drive took a whopping 3 hours. I tried to explain away the congestion to my out of towner friends..."Yikes, 4th of July traffic sucks, right?"..."Oh, uh, the traffic pattern changes must have these drivers confused!!"..."Out of towners can't drive!!...Uh...I mean...how 'bout some music?" After 2 1/2 hours of bumper to bumper boredom, the traffic vanished but what was left? A rigor-mortis-induced deer on the grass next to the left lane...HAVE THESE PEOPLE NEVER SEEN A DEAD DEER!?!?!? This is New Jersey, idiots. On my way to work I pass several dead deer and the New Jersey Commission of Dead Animal Removal isn't real quick on the pick ups. So, I kinda get close the road kill... "Mornin' Millie!"..."How's it hangin' Hank?" -- a week can go by before my dead, dear, deer friends are removed. It's not like seeing a dead deer is something special. I've seen more unique roadkill...dogs, cats...So, what's the big freakin' deal???? JUST DRIVE.

They Made Me Do It

2005-07-02T20:13:00.000-07:00

I was out to dinner with some college friends last week and they were telling me to get one of these blogs. I listened. I'm not sure why - a lack of individualism...zero power over peer pressure...a need for someone read about the boring ongoings of my suburban existence. Regardless, here 'tis. I think the standard protocol is to write about my day.

Today I went to beach. By summer's end I'd like to be so dark that strangers might mistake me for some exotic model who is visiting America for the summer... They will take pictures of me, but only my teeth will show up in the prints. This evening I joined my friends for a night on the town...in Montville... usually there is no"on the town" in a town such as Montville, but 4th of July weekend is an exception. People you haven't seen (or wanted to see) in ages fill the athletic fields of MTHS to watch the fire works. Thankfully, our taxes here in Mo-ville are so high that we can fund a glittery pyrotechnic display for a cool 1/2 mil. And folks, they were worth every penny. God Bless America.