A plea to no one in particular. Ignore it.

Ok.

I don't think I've ever really had a panic attack.

I've seen aaron have one or two in our time, and I don't think I'm experiencing that...

But I am teetering on the edge of something pretty perilous here.

I am sitting here seriously wondering how I'll make it through the day, and how I'll make it through the next day, and the day after that.


What the fuck am I going to do?

Aaron says happiness is something you choose. 

I really don't know.

Is it acceptable to hide under my desk?

Jesus christ.

I don't want to be here.  I'm such an asshole, I know, I know.  I'm a ridiculous, awful person.  I know.

and I know I can't quit.  I know.

There are so many things I know--so why do I feel so fucking lost and clueless?


whatthefuckamigoingtodo????????????????????????????????????????????????????????


oh my godohmygodohmygod.  I need to go home.  I really do.  Holy shit.  What the fuck? 


This is bananas.

It is almost comic.  Sitting here typing my internal monologue in the hopes that it will exorcise some of it.  Ha. 

Oh my god.  I can't teach a class while on the verge of tears.  helphelphelphelphelp.

Ok.  time to buck up.  Time to pull my shit together.

8th graders, like predators, can smell fear.

They thrive on exploiting vulnerabilities.

brbrbrbrbrbrbrbrbrbbrbrbrbrbrbrbrbrbrbrbrbrbrbrbbrbrbrbr.


!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

not just anybody...

the last day of my vaca was sacrificed to teacher-stuff.  And I resented it.  Today I went to work.  And I resented it.
Right now i am supposed to be doing more in the way of work obligations, and I resent it and abhor it so thoroughly that I am not doing a single bit of it.

just stressing about it and resenting it.

is there any way out?

you work so hard for something, only to find out it isn't at all what you want.

and I really haven't got another 'start over' left.

i hate worrying about sucking at a job i don't even like... worrying about losing a job I don't really want.

help.

A day late...

So, in what must surely be typical Aaron & Beth style, we could not seem to get our act together in time to cook our first Thanksgiving on Thursday.

Instead we took the pressure off it.  We popped in to say the requisite 'hello' to our families, came home and did some minor cleaning, then took the rest of the day off.  I napped.  He played Skyrim.  I was a little disappointed.  But Not so worked up that I had it in me to get up and do more cleaning, or prepare a huge meal!

So this morning we woke up, had some great sex, then proceeded to do some cleaning.  Then I played Skyrim (It was SO my turn), and he cleaned the entire kitchen, every dish and pot and pan, and it was wonderful. 

So finally, finally, it was time to make our Thanksgiving! 

We'd gone to a farmer's market for some of our harvest veggies, and to Trucchi's for the rest (Just like the pilgrims did it...)  for instance, canned cranberry sauce (just like the pilgrims...)


I was on my feet preparing a veritable vegetarian feast for hours!  And it was so much fun!  We had the harvest bake, I made a pot pie, I made a green bean casserole (first time, not sure how I felt about it ultimately.  I used fresh green-beans, contrary to the directions, and suffered because of it.  Needed alot more time in the oven...), I sauteed up some brussels sprouts with garlic and brown sugar (yum!), Had baked confetti squash stuffed with stuffing to which I added edamame for protein (just like the... yeah, joke gets old, right?).  We had pillsbury crescent rolls because they make Aaron happy, and corn and mashed potatoes (aaron made the mashed potatoes and the were rock-your-socks-off delish!); little cornbreads, apple cider (local farms), and I think... I think that's it.    We had so much food we didn't even cut into the pie.  No we'll have that as leftovers!

Plus I even threw in an almond poundcake for desert and it is perfection!  Even better with a touch of strawberry rhubarb jam!  But we decided we were much too full for much desert, so we've sampled it, loved it, and will enjoy it over the coming week.

You know what?  It was the best thanksgiving either of us have had in years.  And even though it was vegetarian?  It FELT like Thanksgiving.  We did not miss the turkey one bit!  We had a MEAL, not a collection of side dishes.  And we were happy.  And we were together, in our home, no pressure, no stress, just warmth and fun and love.  And the Reardon China, and the Wedding crystal :)  And papertowels, lol.  And most things served in the same vessel in which they were prepared.  Nobody to impress!

Now I'm slow cooking leftover veggies in veggie broth and heavy cream to make a delicious autumn bisque.  It smells like gastronomical divinity.

I may add some rosemary on top and let it sloooooooowwwwww cook overnight.

And, when we were digested a little bit, we celebrated our private thanksgiving with a sound fucking all around.  Fucking fabulous.  I was rewarded very generously for my domesticity today.  Positive orgasmic reinforcement!

So.  Happy Thanksgiving.  While many spent today in the thrall of consumer madness, standing in lines and shopping for the best bargain, I was at home, relaxed, happy, healthy, harmonious. 

Hope you all found joy and happiness in your holidays as well!

:)

Wonderful Wednesday

Woke up early with the intention  of playing the new videogame before Aaron could get to it, but as I sat down in the gaming chair I had a powerful urge to write some scenes I'd been thinking about before bed. I got one done.  One started.  Not sure if they have any sizzle or value, but at least they are written!  SO much of my stuff lately has been theoretical.  Ideas bouncing around in my head and dying out beore they ever get recorded.

I miss being able to write whenever.

I still have a love\hate relationship with my writing, and sorta wish I would 'piss or get off the pot' as my mother would say...  but what can I do?  This is the longest any one idea has captivated me this long.  And imagine if I branched out and wrote about other families and problems?  It could be infinite.  Like my addiction to the sims used to be... heyyyyyy...

Aaron and I have committed to having our very own thanksgiving tomorrow.  This will be the first one we've had together alone as a couple.  I am excited.  But the fist thing we have to do is tackle this incredibly daunting amount of cleaning!

We now have more than a passing investment, though.  We went to the farmer's market (it is fucking freezing out for a farmer's market, incidentally)  and picket up a good amount of harvest-y vegetable for a heftier sum than I'd been anticipating.  But the clerk was so friendly and thoroughly vegetarian and helpful that there just couldn't be that moment of: "Howthefuck much?  Um, no.  We're putting half this shit back!" 

Nope.  Instead I swallowed by blank surprise, commented on how many wonderful vegetarian cookbooks she had, and then she OFFERED TO LET US BORROW SOME.  Wild.  I fucking adore local business.

So.  On the menu?

Still tentative.  But here are the officially-decided-upon items:

~Harvest Bake~

Butternut squash, turnip, parsnip, carrot, red potato, and sweet potato baked with rosemary. (and shallots if you have 'em.  I fogot about them and Aaron doesn't care for them, so whatever.) It is my absolute fave, and the leftovers can be stewed in vegetable broth, pureed, and mixed with some heavy cream to make the BEST autumn bisque!

~Stuffed Confetti Squash~

We usually do acorn squash, but this confetti squash is roughly the same shape and size, and was at the farmer's market!  We'll stuff it with, well, stuffing (pepperidge farms makes a stuffing that blessedly contains no amount of chicken stock, chicken fat, chicken bones, or chicken powder.  Chicken powder?  True story.  Try reading the back of your stuffing bags/boxes.  Thanks for powdering the chicken--I really hate it when it's chicken lumps...) that has been fortified with either a bean or maybe edamame... something to give it protein.

Other than that I'm a little up in the air.  I could do a veggie pot-pie, which is yummy.  I also purchased spinach and green beans, for the, well, the green-ness.  But no clue on what I'm going to do with them.  I might go mid-western and try a greenbean casserole!   Oh, and we bought a can of corn and some pillsbury crescent rolls to sate Aaron's pining for his grandmother's.

We will no miss sitting through our family's dinners.  Quoth Aaron:  "I can't tell you how psyched I am about this opting out of thanksgiving thing."  He told me a yesterday.  "I wish we could opt out of more!"  You should have seen the honest glee in his expression.  Priceless.

Tu-Friday...

Oh, Tu-Friday, how I love thee.  I love that you mean my weekend is already at hand! I also kinda love that you sound vaguely vegetarian.  And sassy, like tutti-fruitti gum!

I love love love love love that my work day is almost over!

Amen Amen Amen.

Someone told me at the beginning of the year that if I made it to thanksgiving that I'd make it through the year.  We shall see.  Another person held the carrot a little further out--at Christmas break.

The kids today were fascinated puzzled and appalled that I wouldn't be partaking in turkey this Thanksgiving.  They find the choice to be vegetarian so bizarre!

"Don't you miss chicken?!"  The exclaim, disbelieving that anyone could willingly give up the delicious bird.  "It tastes sooooo good!"

I sigh and shrug and smile. 

And tell them that I LOVE mashed potatoes.  We all agree on that.

Ms. Reardon gets hate grafitti...

Yes indeed.

On the inside cover of one of the copies of the novel we're reading.  I discovered it today while instructing students on where to turn for their book numbers, as today was finally sign out day for the novels.

It reads as follows:

Mrs. Reardon

sucks

Big dicks

and is a

fat ass

Bitch

I have written it out as it appears in scrawled pencil.  And doesn't it almost read like poetry?

I was shocked and amused when first I beheld it.

Then I thought about it.

And.

I think no truer hate grafitti has yet been written about me!

I do indeed suck big dick (yum); I have a beautifully large curvaceous posterior (love!), and who among us has not been know to be a bitch?

So, overall, I think I'm not too terribly upset at the little gesture of rebellion.  I have my suspicions on who is responsible.  But nothing will come of it.

Except... except I may frame this for posterity.

I'm a sentimental gal ;)

Miss Reardon pines...

The hours after I posted weren't as bad as that first one.  I learned about a few things that seem like they might be really valuable!  And fun.

But in the end, I have mixed feelings.  I got 6 PDPs, which, I dunno, are something a teacher is tasked with aquiring for some reason or another.  Anyhow, I got some of those-for free-- which I gather is a boon. 

Professional development.

For a profession about which I am luke-warm right now.  Tepid at best.

My heart wants OUT!

My head knows I need to stay and keep chipping away at it.

Aaron says I've never had any job very long and that this is my normal pattern.  He tells me that I hate working.  ANY job, and always try to find a way out, always begin to look at alternatives.  He thinks I generally end up liking my jobs after this phase of push-back and wanderlust.

We'll see.

I have found myself resenting how much time and energy and creativity goes into this bullshit career.  I think to myself:  If only this placeholder career didn't take up so much of my fucking time, perhaps I'd have time to train/prepare for my next one! 

See, I've pretty much decided that I don't want to be a teacher forever.  At least not this kind of teacher.  Maybe if I were a drama teacher, or maybe if I were a college professor (where at least I could curse like a sailor and not be afraid of mentioning anything at all remotely sexual...again, I'd be a theatre professor, so it'd be impossible not to discuss the most basic human motivation after hunger...).

But not this.  Not this bizarre in-between of elementary school teacher and high-school teacher.  Not this job that simultaneously requires that I be a molly-coddler and a whip-cracker.

And btw, my biggest fear when I was in high-school (besides unwanted pregnancy) was becoming a teacher... especially a fucking english teacher.  Weren't all your english teachers bananas?  Mine were.  Crazy, unhinged, fruitloops, and very very often bitches royale!

Aaron affectionately tells me that I'm the perfect kind of crazy to be a middle school english teacher.  He thinks its great and that the kids must love me.  I'm not so sure.  And it freaks me out that I might have been 'destined' or whatever, to be this...

I want to work in the entertainment industry.  I don't want to be an actor--I left that for a whole host of reasons.  It wasn't just:  have something to fall back on.  There was something about being an actor that felt so... haphazard.  So much of that career is out of your hands.  Up to the fates.  The whims and arbitrary decisions of strangers.  I didn not like the powerlessness I felt, even at my most empowered.

I left acting for many reasons and it is a door I've pretty well shut forever.  In fact, I'm a little tired of teaching middle school drama too.  Drama alltogether!  (not altogether, because that would be an exciting way to teach drama!  eww, but not to middleschoolers, yuck.  How about them college kids, though?? yeahhhhhh..... anyway....)

I want to be someone more in the director's realm.  But I'm not ready to spearhead anything.  Or be in charge of too many other people.  But I want a job in the creative arts industry.  And I'd like to not be responsible for anyon'es learning for a while.

I mean.  I was looking at the NEA and other arts + education organizations and wondering if maybe I'd be best talking about arts education, rather than actually doing it.  But I'd feel like a fraud.  You know?  Designing lessons I'd never have to implement personally?  What an asshole!

And I'm really intrigued with the idea of educational gaming.  Well.  Not entirely true.  I'm intrigued with the idea of gaming, and getting into the gaming industry, and I guess I figure since I have all this educational background, that's how I might be able to find an 'in'.

But this is all moot.

Because I have a job.  And It's the one I need to be doing.  For a long, long, long, long, time.

The way I'm losing precious hours of my life...

I am sitting at a technology conference, bored out of my mind. 

This particular presentation is basically telling me how to do a google search.  In excrutiating detail.  Exceptionally slowly and with no charisma whatsoever...

Sigh.

At least it was free.....................................................................................................

FML

Have A Magical Day!

I have a crush on the dunkin donuts girl.

She isn't there every single day, which makes her all the more precious to me.  She is by far the most adorable and also the most effective take-out window clerk i have ever experience.

She had dark reddish\brown curls that are always a bit on the frizzy side.  She's got a dusting of light freckles over perpetually rosy cheeks--the kid you just know a grandmother pinched vigorously and often.

She's perky, but not in a disingenuous way; her spunkiness is infectious!  her smile is contagious!  Her warmth is enveloping!  Her laughter is uplifting!

And the best part? 

Where most people would tell me to have a good one, or have a nice day?  This girl says, and I tell you with all sincerity that it is neither facetious nor is it too saccharine; she tells me:  "Have a magical day!"

I can hear her genuine, light-hearted upward inflection now as I write this. 

sighhhhhhhhhhhhh. 

Oh sweet Dunkin Donuts girl.  I adore you. 

Thanks for making those mornings so fabulously splendid.  Dare I say: Magical?

Miss Reardon calls home...

Making phone calls home to tell parents that their kids are fuckholes is one of the more stressful and less enjoyable parts of my new career.

And this is why I am sitting here with Bailey's in my cocoa.

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh.

Self-medicating and taking the edge off; how the Irish have rolled since the invention of spirits...

Amen.

Faith and begorrah!

Ohmygod, shoes.

Things I want to say 'thank you' for!

Every now and then, like a flower blooming in a barren field, like a treasure glinting in the muck, there come things into my life for which I am grateful.  Little silly things that make me unreasonably happy.

Always, thank heavens, always there are mu\y friends and loved ones.  I do not deserve their continued support and love, but there it is; to buoy me, to anchor me, to wrap me up and keep me safe.  They mean everything to me, and I am eternally and undyingly grateful.

But this post isn't about the big things; its about the little things that make my day, or week, or month.

For instance.  THANK YOU to Savers thrift store, for giving me all my most favorite pairs of shoes!  Holy Moly!  I used to avoid buying shoes at thrift stores because my friend Jeff had all these dire supoerstitions that he got from his very traditional Italian grandmother.  One of them was about walking in a dead man's shoes, and I guess at a thrift store you never do know, right?

But times change.  Have you SEEN the price of brand new shoes?  Plus, as a vegetarian I refuse to support the leather industry, so I'm forced into buying synthetics, which is fine by me, except that synthetic materials ain't no match for leather, so they wear out at an astonishingly quick rate, but the shoes are still SUPER expensive!

At Savers I can get shoes for less than $7, not worry about whether they're leather or not (we have a rule about secon-hand stuff.  We're not supporting the industry, and we're being greeeeen!)--I still try to avoid leather, but often there's no real way to know!  Ok, so at $7 or less I can feel free to buy on a whim, you know?!  Because say they don't work out, turns out they don't quite fit right when I get them home, or that they fall apart after a couple months, or that they are actually a little too zany even for me when the sobriety of the next day hits me (this RARELY happens, I assure you, but even I, on occasion, have suffered buyer's remorse), WHO THE FUCK CARES?  Because guess what?  They cost me like $5.50.  No big loss!

So shopping for shoes at savers can be a freeing experience! 

Sure, sure, it can also be a frustrating one.  I mean, there's only ever, you know, just the ONE pair of things.  At a real store if you see a cute shoe but it isn't displayed on the shelves in your size there's always a chance they have one somewhere.  OR you could check the website and such.   At a thrift store?  No such luck.  A seven is a seven is a seven, so suck it, size nines!  I mean once in a while you'll hit thrift store gold and they will have been donated a whole LOT of some style of shoe, and it is like HEAVEN.  But this is rare.  I don't know what these shoe companies are that donate entire LOTS of shoes, but keep up the stelaar charity work, folks!

But overall I'd say the exciting finds far outweigh the frustrations.  Little risk, lots of reward.  I now have savers to thank for all my current favorites: 

The Black Wedge heels that are both stylish and comfortable like a mawfuckah!  I wear those bitches to WORK!  ALL DAY!  And they don't hurt a bit!  (another bonus for thrift store shoes: someone else has already done the hard work of breaking them in for me!  Thanks, shoe slave.  It makes me feel like a pampered princess to imagine petty servants walking up and down for the purpose of giving my tootsies a better ride!)

This is the basic idea, but mine have much cuter detailing.  But look at that height!!

The New Dark Red wedges with the gentlest red&cream herringbone trim that feel very reminiscent of the black ones, only even more adorable because of the hint of sophisticated color, and the button off to the side.  Oh, they'z so frickin cute!

Legit.  How frickin' cute are these?!?!?!?

A few other styling bitches, that I had trouble finding images for, but you know they cute.  The following pics are close analogues for some of my fave finds at savers...

Shimmering Zebra Shoes!  Yay!

Sequined Flats! Sassafrass!

Fuckin Fire-Engine Red Penny Loafers, Bitch!

TWEED Shoes?!?!  Yup. And Mine are even cuter because there's more orange tones, and theres this little flower on them... So London, So Fun!

PLUS one of my all time favorite pairs.  My Neon Yellow Flats.  Seriously.  These babies are Safety-yellow.  Simple, yet statement-making!  People never fail to notice the little flash of day-glow peeping out from 'neath my cuff hem.  They're conversation starters, they bring joy to people's faces, they are simple, comfortable, silly, and satisfying!  I have over-worn them sadly, so they are getting pretty scuffed and ragged.  I bought them, like, a year ago with my friend, who picked up a matching pair in Neon Pink!  And if she's not wearing them, she could send them my way for some LOVE! :)

Goddamned Glorious.

I Absolutely adore the whimsy, the happenstance, the absolute serendipity of finding second hand shoes you adore!   

Thank You Savers!

Pleasant Polly?

WOW.  Sinus pressure headache like a mothafucking freight train right now.  Ho-ly-SHIT.  I'm not the nasal allergy type, and my colds don't usually take this miserable form, so I am... whoa.  I pretty much wanna rip my face off right now.  I keep trying to massage the sinuses, but I need some real reflief!  looks like I'll be stopping by CVS on way home (a trek i plan on making as soon as fucking possible!  No staying until 6pm today!)

So if they could call a vote of confidence on me right now at work, I'm pretty sure i'd be ousted.  You know, people are always like: 'Oh, ask lots of questions!  People love it when you ask questions!"  But I'm beginning to suspect that my initial instinct was correct in this matter:  Asking too many questions makes your bosses doubt your competency.

I shoulda been sticking to the old stage adage: Fake it till you make it! 

Instead I have been frank about my concerns, my inadequacies, my lack of preparation for this gig, and now I'm being very very  VERY closely monitored. 

As if I didn't already want to quit!

Christ.

Oh, and anyone want any cats?  I'm about at the end of my patience with these boys.  I have NEVER given up a pet before, but I am pretty much over having them at this point.

I will never never never never get another cat.

If I had my way, we'd never get another pet.  Period.

Well.  Ok, we haven't ever had a dog.  Maybe we'll get a nice dog someday.

We're not having kids.  Unless there's some freak accident or twist of fate.  So maybe a dog.  Might be nice.


My fucking head/face!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

i am not a pleasant polly right now!

I was supposed to stay late and enter all my grades into the computer portal for term one.  Nopes.  I am going the FUCK home as soon as fucking possible.

Oh, and CVS on the way.

Absolutely.

Indubitably.

Creative Writing, Doctor!

Ok.

No.  It isn't 'ok'.  I say "ok" alot.  And it couldn't be further from the truth.

I am not OK.

Something, nay, many things are really wrong with me.

And instead of wanting to get better, I would honestly rather throw in the towel.

Survival instinct is supposed to be innate.  intrinsic.  inherent.

I have a fundamental defect.

And every time I try to point this out to myself I get even more disgusted and spiral even further into self-loathing.

And I don't want to be,  nor can I really afford to be on pills for this for the rest of my natural life.

So.

What to do?

Aaron thinks he might study to be a paleontologist. 

I spent part of this evening looking at writing degrees accross the country.  It was exciting, thinking about changing my life.

And then I remembered that I've had my go.  I've paid and am struggling to make payments on those years, those semesters, those course loads of self indulgence.  I don't get to go to fucking WRITING school!  Am I insane?!?!  Yes.  I believe we've established that soemthing is seriously mal-formed in here. 

It is his turn.  and good heavens above, the man has earned it.  I don't give a fuck if he wants to go back to school for african drumming.  What he wants he will get.  And I will work myself into the ground-god willing- to give it to him.

I do not get to go back to school to pursue yet another ridiculous, self-indulgent, self-aggrandizing, self-delusional pipe-dream.

My sentence for those wasted years is doing what I'm doing.  Struggling to make my square peg fit into the round hole.  Black hole.  sink hole.

For as long as he needs.

I just worry that I won't be able to hold up my end of the bargain.

That I'll surrender to the darker things before I get the chance to fulfill my sacred obligation.  I owe him everything.

I wish it hadn't happened like this.

I really wish it had all been different.

Sometimes I wish we'd never met.

That's how much I love him.

Can oyu imagine me submitting my writing for admittance into a PHD program in creative writing?

The thought is enough to douse even the most persistent little flame of hope.

I suppose I could do what I did to pass my creative writing course in college... submit Aaron's work instead of my own and have adulation poured upon me...

He really is ridiculously talented.

If it weren't for me, for my debt, for my anchoring him here, he could go anywhere, be anything, and be a world-changer.

I know he sees it differently. 

He says my vision is warped because of this peculiar sickness of mine.

I say his vision is clouded by some shadow of a girl he fell in love with years ago.

She doesn't exist now.

She hasn't for some time.

He's fighting for her, but she's nothing more than memory.

The woman in her place is a pale comparison.  A sham.  A fraud. 

And I feel so guilty that everyone keeps looking for that girl.

Anyway.  A PhD in creative writing?  What a ridiculous thing to have a doctoral program for.

A Gamer-iffic holiday!

Things that I did in the name of sanity/self-indulgence/self-therapy yesterday:


Woke up super early and dragged the hubs to SAVERS for their Veteran's Day half-off sale!  I got some cute stuff, not as much as last time, but still.  Plus a couple pairs of shoes I like too, and Aaron got some good stuff :)

Got Mary Lou's coffee on the way!  TREAT!

Returned home from savers and tried stuff on because I was not putting myself through the bullshit of the Savers veteren's day half-off sale dressing room Nazi and her bullshit out-of-control dressing room attitude problem, rules, and restrictions.  Nope nope nope.  THere's only so much a quick-blooded Irish can take, and I was already at my absolute limit with the fucking shoppers, no way was I gunna suffer through that dripping cuntsicle.  Could I have saved money had I tried things on in store and eliminated items that did not fit or did not look as good on my body as they did on the rack?  sure thing.  But remember, we're talking a half-off sale at a deep-discount thrift store.  So, all told I probably would have saved 10-15 buckaroos.  Me not having a toatal-fucking-breakdown and ripping the dressingroom Nazi's hair out over deep-discount thrift store merch?  Priceless.

Discovered that one item of clothing turned Aaron on very, very much and had an amazing morning of fun in the bed. 

Then a nap.  a long, long, hearty, healthy, pleasant, worry-free nap.  Sated, satisfied, sexified, splendiferous nap.  We both needed it.  It has been a long few weeks.  Our bodies very much appreciated the recuperation!

Awoke in a cuddly, cozy, cherished sort of mood and basked in it.

Showered.  An as-long-as-I-feel-like-it shower, because I didn't have to rush to work, and I wasn't fall-down-tired and about to stumble into bed.

Departed for an eveing of games at my brother's, but on the way stopped at muthafucking gamestop to buy myself a new, BRAND NEW goddamned video game.  A luxury.

Had my sister-in-law's delicious cooking-- last night she went with vegetarian chili and cornbread and it was mouthwatering, filling, and comforting!  Played with my neices until it was time for their bed times.  Had a fun night of convo and games with my brother and sister-in-law.  In fact!  We played CRANIUM TURBO EDITION, which we'd picked up for 5 fucking dollars at savers, and it was mint-- never even been opened.  This game would easily retail for fifty dollars, and we got it for 5.  It was super fun.  A definite improvement on the fun of cranium.  It moves faster, it has more hilarious categories-- our favorite was the one where you have to move your partner like a marionette to get them to guess the secret word on the card (hula dancer, playing guitar, florist...)  Hilarity ensued!

Came home, immediately checked out this online starwars MMORPG that I was selected to fucking BETA TEST (WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOT!!!!!!); also started my new xbox video game with much enthusiasms.  After playing that for a chunk of time I went back to the MMORPG whilst aaron dozed dreamily on the couch.

Discovered when my cell alarm went off that it was 4:30 in the AM.  They warned me MMORPGs are to gamers what booze and crack are to addicts, and holy hell are they right.  Where the fuck did that time go?? 

Decided to take a two-hour nap to get powered up for a day of laundry, cleaning, grading, lesson-planning, and hopefully more gaming??!!??!!??!!

Aaron and I have decided to head to the laundromat, as we're so behind in the laundry sitch that it makes more sense to attack it on all cylinders.  The dinky double-decker apartment sized washer here at our building will not suffice.  So when I sign off we shall depart for a good chunk of time.

It is actually more fun than you'd think when you're with someone you enjoy hanging out with, and when it was your choice to go, rather than the only option you have for doing laundry (I've lived that wretched hell and will never take an in-house washer and dryer for granted ever ever again).

So!

Enjoy your saturday.  I'mma do my best to both enjoy myself AND be productive.  When laundry's done there's still dishes, and bullshit, and organization, and a bathroom that I would be ashamed to let a hobo use... it never seems to end and it never seems to get much better.

And I warned myself that I wouldn't be allowed to do a thanksgiving here if we didn't get this place in order.  It is starting to look lik that's gunna be the case, which makes me sadpants.

But!  Off to the laundromat!

Huzzah! (my new video game is all medieval-ly) and may the force be with us (the MMORPG is starwars!)

Federal Holiday

I needed this day.

And am milking it for all it is worth...

What I did today/what I am doing

Let's see: 

I forgot to vote today.

I want to quit my job.

I indulged in hours of sub-par and fantasy-based television shows

I had a peanut butter & strawberry rhubarb jelly sandwich when I got home.

I became surly and grumpy when my husband did not wish to try the new place down the street.

I became irascible (in a passive agressive waspy way) when said restaurant failed to provide an online menu and when the woman on the phone kept listing delicious chicken dishes that they had available AFTER I explained that I was a vegetarian...

I am now awaiting fresh-baked cookies.

And I shall watch the new show Suburgatory with my husband, and we shall marvel at the sexual chemistry betwixt Jeremy Sisto (yeah) and the hot little redhead that is playing his 15 year old daughter.  And I will wish that I had the balls to make my stuff into a showtime original.  And I will want to quit my job some more.  Even harder than I already do.

The Night Ms. Reardon decided she was done with therapy for a while...

I'd deluded myself into forgetting that saying about Irish Catholics being immune to psychotherapy.

I remember it now.

With a wry twist of the lips, I remember it now.

When I think about a garden hose in the exhaust, I remember the saying.

When I stay until I'm the last living person in the building, and realize that staying all night will not buy me anything but more disappointment--I remember the saying.

When, tomorrow, I cancel my weekly appointments, I'll be thinking of the saying. 

With a wry twist of my lips, I'll be thinking of that saying.

And whenever it is that I commit myself to the inevitable course of action, The one that sings a siren song too sweet to close my heart against--

When that day or evening or small hour of the pre-dawn comes?

I'll remember what they say about the Irish and psychotherapy.

I'll remember the truth beneath the jest--

With a wry twist in my smile.

Gah!

So how's my promise to write something everyday?

Not so hot, huh?

I'll try harder.

The battle to stay sane, stay on top of things, and stay ....

I can't even form cogent thoughts.

see you soon?