Wednesday, February 21, 2007

Better late than never

Only a couple of weeks after being tagged by Shawnee, here's the world's most popular meme: Six Weird Things About Me. You've been waiting. I know you have.

1. I hurt myself. On accident. All. The. Time. I wrote a whole blog about all the times I'd been to the emergency room on my last blog address, and now I can't find it, so suffice it to say that at last count I'd been to at least 12 different emergency rooms in at least 10 different cities. Only some of which I lived in. I've fallen down hills, sprained ankles, stuck myself with scissors, slipped on ice, hit my head, come down with mysterious or unusual ailments. And yet I've never broken a single bone. Go figure.

2. I am almost never early. I am rarely late. I am almost always exactly (as in 1 or 2 minutes on either side) on time. Even when driving long distances, I somehow manage to pinpoint arrival times. Now, that might have something to do with my willingness to break the sound barrier when driving, but...

3. Birds hate me. I've never met a pet bird that didn't bite me or shriek at me or try to kick their shit at me. Seriously. I lived with two love birds (they were my roommate's) and if I walked by their cage, they would fly to the bottom and quite literally kick their *shit* at me.

4. I love Magnum P.I. I don't mean I love Tom Selleck. He's ok as an actor, I guess, but I've never thought he was the hottest thing going or anything. There's just something about the show that I adore. The intrigue, the semi-serial storyline (especially in the later seasons), the cheesiness - whatever it is, I love it.

5. I almost always remain friends with my ex-boyfriends. I don't mean "on friendly terms" or friends-with-benefits-until-we-get-each-other-out-of-our-systems or any other perversion of the word "friend". One of my very closest friends is an ex. I went out to dinner last night with another ex. Another one used to fly from Oklahoma to Georgia to visit me. This has gone on since high school, through college and into my (nominally) adult life. Can't explain it...just happens.

There you go.

Tuesday, February 20, 2007


Heat. As in the condition my kitten is in. Is this how mothers feel when they're daughters hit puberty? "But she's not old enough!! Just yesterday she was a baby..."

In this case, she's only 7 months old, but apparently that's plenty fast enough. She doesn't go outdoors, so pregnancy isn't a danger, but homicide is. The next time she wakes me up at 4 AM with horrible groaning meaow that she's making, I just might kill her.

I promise to follow all the memes that have been sent to me recently soon, soon, soon. Coaching track is kicking my butt right now...

Monday, February 05, 2007

Why February Has Not Been Great

This post could also be titled Why I Have Not Completed the Meme That Shawnee Tagged Me With.

Or simply Why I Am Exhausted.

But I digress.

Thursday, February 1st. Arrive at school 7:45 AM. Shit. Late for meeting with parents about student who refuses to do work. Sit and listen to parents argue about whether it would be better for me to phone or email to track said student's progress. Rush to 1st period class. Continue to have fairly normal but hectic day, including a well-intentioned but not as effective-as-I'd-hoped review game for below-level Algebra I students. Suffer disapproving looks from the special ed teacher who collaborates with me in that class. Go to track practice. 40 degree weather, girls who are late and/or complain and/or refuse to run entire workout. Wonder what possesses girls who have little interest in running to go out for TRACK. Come home and collapse exhausted on couch.

Friday, February 2nd. Arrive at school 8:20 AM. Shit. Late. 10 minutes before class, students are waiting at door to classroom. Open email to find slightly reprimanding letter from school bookkeeper asking where track fundraising monies are. Spend ENTIRE planning period running around school reminding girls that these monies are due. Go to track practice. See February 1. Work gate at freshman basketball game, sitting by a door which opens periodically to let in arctic blast. Head home at 7 PM, hoping to catch movie with friend. Enter house to find said house has been broken into. Call 911, find out what is missing. Am at first broken-hearted, thinking all heirloom jewelry is gone, but am then relieved to find it dropped on floor. Realize this means that I actually *came home while thieves were in house*. Freak out a little about this. Fight with Sprint over stolen cell phone.

Saturday, February 3rd. Try to straighten out new account at bank to make up for stolen checks. Fail. Hurry home to meet friend who will board up broken in back door and cable guy who is supposed to fix intermittent cable problem. Cable guy fails miserably. Friend succeeds. Rush to store to purchase new cell phone and fixin's for chili cook-off taking place next day.

Sunday, February 4th. Fix chili. Forget to fix matching blue-cheese cornbread until last minute. Curse self for being stupid. Find out cell phone number has been messed up by Sprint. Curse Sprint. Go to Super-Bowl Party, drink too many beers, win 3rd place in chili cook-off. Take home big wooden spoon as prize. Realize I forgot all about grading papers, and grades are due Monday. Grade feverishly until eyes cross. Collapse into bed, leaving all chili paraphernalia on counter to congeal nicely.

Monday, February 5th. Arrive at school 7:50 AM. Shit. Not as early as I'd meant to. Feverishly enter grades. Yell at classes because grades are so bad. During planning, rush to bank to try to take care of account. Fail. Rush to middle school to do various stuff. Rush back to high school to teach rest of classes and yell at kids. Go to track practice. See Feb 1 and Feb 2, but subtract 10 degrees. Rush back to bank. Finally succeed at changing account. Go to Sprint store. Fail to resolve phone issue. Curse. Drive to rural school, getting lost along the way, for mandatory track rules meeting. Curse slow-talking country leader of said meeting for stretching a 20 minute meeting into 45 minutes. Miss dinner date for sushi with friends. Come home, too tired to care, change into pajamas and sit in front of computer for mindless entertainment.

And one more thing. It's my birthday in 45 minutes.