Less than two weeks before France and Italy! Bah!!!!!
I am so excited!!!!!!! But also, omg. I have so much to do before this trip, what was I thinking with the timing? I have Harry Potter, I have to make 6 pies, which means first preparing the pumpkin, which takes 6 hours in and of itself. I am singing in a wedding on Saturday, followed by an RCIA dinner. Sunday I have to go to a choir concert, then go to Mass twice, once for RCIA and them again to cantor. I work Monday and Tuesday and then I am off to Auntie's house to help with Thanksgiving. I will be back on Friday and am skipping Black Friday so that I can pack for my trip, because I have a choir concert on Saturday AND on Sunday and then Mass twice, again, and am leaving on Monday. Oh, and did I mention that I have absolutely no plans for either trip yet. I will likely bring the travel books on the plane with me and voraciously read them therein, so that I will know where Versailles is. And I need to print metro maps. And figure out how to get from the Airport to the hotel and back to the airport, at the very least.
Taking vacations is stressful.
Friends, I am in need of some assistance that the interwebs is not providing. You see, I speak enough French to get directions, conjugate verbs, and be polite. And *hopefully* get through customs. My brother speaks Spanish, so I think he will be okay in Italy for sure.
I've only been through customs in Australia, where they are crazy mo-fos because it is an island...is it safe to assume that Paris and Rome are a bit more chill on a short visit from peeps with USA passports?
What Italian do we think I need for customs...or will there not be customs between Paris and Rome? What French would Brother need to get through in Paris? Or, if I just teach him to say "Je suis un touriste" and "Parlez-vous anglais?" do we think it'll be okay?
I mean, tons of Brits must come through, right?
Guidance, oh wise amies!
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
Why?!?!?!
Do you have those friends that are a huge drain on your time because they are needy and mopey and sad? And then you see them around other people and realize that you are not even a **good** friend of theirs? Because they ignore you and act superior to you when these others are around?
Lame. Annoying. There are many words to describe this, but I digress.
Well, one of this special brood has been very...needy...lately. I try to be nice, but if you are not going to tell me what is wrong but just dance around it and say "woe is me"--let's face it, this can only go on so long.
So, when at 1am this morning I get a phone call from said person, I wanted to rip my hair out in frustration. I had to be at school in 6 hours, which meant that I had to get up in 5 which meant I was sleeping! Friends, when working 40-50 hours a week, sleep is very important. Add to this the fact that I love sleep. I love sleeping so much that in College I had a designated "Sleep-in Day" on the calendar.
Luckily, I refrained from answering with "Who dares disturb my slumber," opting instead for "Listen, I hate to be a downer, but I only answered to make it stop ringing, because I want to sleep before I have to get up in 5 hours. Actually, I thought that the ringing was my alarm."
THEN HE APOLOGIZED FOR 10 MINUTES!!!!!!!!!! I not only understand, but appreciate the apology, but for the love! Just say "sorry. I can call later--or shoot you an email."
In summary: do not call me at 1am on a work night. You have been warned.
Lame. Annoying. There are many words to describe this, but I digress.
Well, one of this special brood has been very...needy...lately. I try to be nice, but if you are not going to tell me what is wrong but just dance around it and say "woe is me"--let's face it, this can only go on so long.
So, when at 1am this morning I get a phone call from said person, I wanted to rip my hair out in frustration. I had to be at school in 6 hours, which meant that I had to get up in 5 which meant I was sleeping! Friends, when working 40-50 hours a week, sleep is very important. Add to this the fact that I love sleep. I love sleeping so much that in College I had a designated "Sleep-in Day" on the calendar.
Luckily, I refrained from answering with "Who dares disturb my slumber," opting instead for "Listen, I hate to be a downer, but I only answered to make it stop ringing, because I want to sleep before I have to get up in 5 hours. Actually, I thought that the ringing was my alarm."
THEN HE APOLOGIZED FOR 10 MINUTES!!!!!!!!!! I not only understand, but appreciate the apology, but for the love! Just say "sorry. I can call later--or shoot you an email."
In summary: do not call me at 1am on a work night. You have been warned.
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
Wrong answer.
You guys! You would be so proud of me…I was such a hard-ass yesterday. I wonder if the students are starting to refer to me using nasty words. You see, JesusSchool has a stringent discipline policy. In the handbook it states that any teacher can give any student a detention for a long list of behaviors, including dress code violations, swearing, cheating, stealing, vandalizing, other standards, and “Any other behavior deemed disruptive to the learning environment” which I take o mean “Anything that annoys me.” Awesome.
A strict no-cell phone policy is also in place. Students may not use or access their cell phones anywhere on the grounds between the first warning bell and the bell for final dismissal. At all. Ever. Not during lunch, nor pass time, nor when they are in the bathroom. This is pretty clear, right?
I have been nice so far with getting back into the swing of things. For instance, I looked straight at a senior boy on the football team and said “Make sure your shirt is tucked in, because out of the corner of my eye, it looks like it’s not—lame reason for a detention.” Or, “What did you just say? ‘Cause it sounds like I might need to find that detention pad already. . .” These have been met with hastily tucked-in shirts by all of the boys around, murmerred apologies, and even a "Yes, Ma'm."
So when a student was texting in a stairwell during class yesterday, I told her to hand it over. She looked at me like I was the devil incarnate. Based on her size and attitude, she was a sophomore or junior.
Aussie-the-Enforcer: You know better. Hand it over. You can get it back from me after school.
Rule-Breaker-with-a-Cell-Phone-and-a-cocky-attitude: I’m just on my way to class.
AtE: Then you won’t need your cell phone. You can get it after school.
RBwaCPaaCA (finishing and sending text): I wasn’t even using it.
AtE: Sure looks and sounds like it. You can either pick it up after school from the library or from the office with your detention. Your choice.
RBwaCPaaCA (reading text that she just received): I have to get back to class.
AtE: Main Office with a detention it is. Name?
RBwaCPaaCA (handing over Cell Phone with a huge sigh and eye roll) : Whatever. [Exit]
Apparently, when you take a cell phone, the student cannot actually pick it up. Their mother or father must report to the office to retrieve it. If I had to get my kid's phone from the office, I would be pissed. You can't go after work, so you would have to do it in the morning. Gross. Talk about a deterrent. Hassle from a teacher, cell phone taken away, parents pissed, and a two hour detention.
At least that beezie totally deserved it.
A strict no-cell phone policy is also in place. Students may not use or access their cell phones anywhere on the grounds between the first warning bell and the bell for final dismissal. At all. Ever. Not during lunch, nor pass time, nor when they are in the bathroom. This is pretty clear, right?
I have been nice so far with getting back into the swing of things. For instance, I looked straight at a senior boy on the football team and said “Make sure your shirt is tucked in, because out of the corner of my eye, it looks like it’s not—lame reason for a detention.” Or, “What did you just say? ‘Cause it sounds like I might need to find that detention pad already. . .” These have been met with hastily tucked-in shirts by all of the boys around, murmerred apologies, and even a "Yes, Ma'm."
So when a student was texting in a stairwell during class yesterday, I told her to hand it over. She looked at me like I was the devil incarnate. Based on her size and attitude, she was a sophomore or junior.
Aussie-the-Enforcer: You know better. Hand it over. You can get it back from me after school.
Rule-Breaker-with-a-Cell-Phone-and-a-cocky-attitude: I’m just on my way to class.
AtE: Then you won’t need your cell phone. You can get it after school.
RBwaCPaaCA (finishing and sending text): I wasn’t even using it.
AtE: Sure looks and sounds like it. You can either pick it up after school from the library or from the office with your detention. Your choice.
RBwaCPaaCA (reading text that she just received): I have to get back to class.
AtE: Main Office with a detention it is. Name?
RBwaCPaaCA (handing over Cell Phone with a huge sigh and eye roll) : Whatever. [Exit]
Apparently, when you take a cell phone, the student cannot actually pick it up. Their mother or father must report to the office to retrieve it. If I had to get my kid's phone from the office, I would be pissed. You can't go after work, so you would have to do it in the morning. Gross. Talk about a deterrent. Hassle from a teacher, cell phone taken away, parents pissed, and a two hour detention.
At least that beezie totally deserved it.
Scientifically Proven
I have observed that the majority of students at JesusSchool are quite fit. I have not seen any obese children. This seemed a bit...odd...to me, considering that we in America are allegedly experiencing an obesity epidemic.
From the Journal of International Health Science, you can find the recent study "Are obese becoming idiots?":
"Huizinga et al (15) showed that low numeracy numeracy Mathematical literacy Neurology The ability to understand mathematical concepts, perform calculations and interpret and use statistical information. Cf Acalculia. skills are associated with higher BMI. Low numeracy skills and obesity are both common. Numeracy skills are used in healthy weight management to monitor caloric pertaining to heat or to calories. "
So, using this conclusion (taken from this paper:
(15.) Huizinga MM, Beech BM, Cavanaugh KL, Elasy TA, Rothman RL. Low numeracy skills are associated with higher BMI. Obesity (Silver Spring). 2008;16(8):1966-8.
I come to the conclusion that JesusSchool students are obese because they possess the ability to add and subtract. So, smart kids are not fat. That means that only smart kids go to JesusSchool?
Oh, wait, maybe I should finish reading this research study...
"School performance of overweight children has been found to be inferior to normal weight children; however, the reason(s) for this link between overweight and academic performance remain unclear."
Did they really use the (s) to pluralize that? Seriously? Grammar aside, silly scientists, did you really just say that you have nothing to say? It *could* be that they are fat and stupid, just like all of the mean kids say, but it could also be that they don't care about life in general...school work or weight, or that they are naturally chubby and depressed because they are so consistently teased so they do not want to draw attention to themselves through academic performance. OR there is only correlation, not causation. This is my biggest scientific and statistical pet peeve. Just because two events or reactions are correlated does not mean that one is causing the other, or even that what is causing A is also causing B. Epic Fail, science people. Epic Fail. At least you had a catchy title.
From the Journal of International Health Science, you can find the recent study "Are obese becoming idiots?":
"Huizinga et al (15) showed that low numeracy numeracy Mathematical literacy Neurology The ability to understand mathematical concepts, perform calculations and interpret and use statistical information. Cf Acalculia. skills are associated with higher BMI. Low numeracy skills and obesity are both common. Numeracy skills are used in healthy weight management to monitor caloric pertaining to heat or to calories. "
So, using this conclusion (taken from this paper:
(15.) Huizinga MM, Beech BM, Cavanaugh KL, Elasy TA, Rothman RL. Low numeracy skills are associated with higher BMI. Obesity (Silver Spring). 2008;16(8):1966-8.
I come to the conclusion that JesusSchool students are obese because they possess the ability to add and subtract. So, smart kids are not fat. That means that only smart kids go to JesusSchool?
Oh, wait, maybe I should finish reading this research study...
"School performance of overweight children has been found to be inferior to normal weight children; however, the reason(s) for this link between overweight and academic performance remain unclear."
Did they really use the (s) to pluralize that? Seriously? Grammar aside, silly scientists, did you really just say that you have nothing to say? It *could* be that they are fat and stupid, just like all of the mean kids say, but it could also be that they don't care about life in general...school work or weight, or that they are naturally chubby and depressed because they are so consistently teased so they do not want to draw attention to themselves through academic performance. OR there is only correlation, not causation. This is my biggest scientific and statistical pet peeve. Just because two events or reactions are correlated does not mean that one is causing the other, or even that what is causing A is also causing B. Epic Fail, science people. Epic Fail. At least you had a catchy title.
Monday, October 25, 2010
Maybe it's your Masters Degree
While prepping last night for class today (yes, I am still an Awesome procrastinator), I realized that my initial plans for my class are, well, a bit high-brow.
In case you don't remember slash did not take the class that I now teach, it is lame. And easy. But, it is the best way to do things like yell at incoming Freshies about unintentional plagiarism and show them how to use big-kid databases.
A big part of the course is using quality search terms, which sometimes means using a variety. One of the exercises in the beginning of the class is pulling 3 key words from a thesis and coming up with 2 synonyms for each keyword. Easy, right?
Apparently, wrong. The class is almost over and they still do not get it. Well, to be fair, many of them do. Others, however, are the definition of awful. For example, the term "family" had the synonym "blood". Am I being ridiculous here, guys? I mean, I think it is fairly obvious that you should use "relatives". I was *not* that bad when I took the class--and I do not understand how the average grade right now is a 71%. Okay, mathematically I do because I have 1 kid who is not turning anything in, but taking that aside, average is 76%. Zawhat?
Are my expectations really that high? I mean, I am the good kind of educator that discusses common mistakes on an assignment after grading, but they are still not getting it. I cannot imagine that my expectations are too high, since I have no expectations after they plagiarized their assignment on plagiarism.
Yay for teaching strategies like diversification, I suppose, because now they get to do a worksheet on this as group work! Hurray! That means that I can plan next week while they are in class this week.
Best. teacher. EVER!
In case you don't remember slash did not take the class that I now teach, it is lame. And easy. But, it is the best way to do things like yell at incoming Freshies about unintentional plagiarism and show them how to use big-kid databases.
A big part of the course is using quality search terms, which sometimes means using a variety. One of the exercises in the beginning of the class is pulling 3 key words from a thesis and coming up with 2 synonyms for each keyword. Easy, right?
Apparently, wrong. The class is almost over and they still do not get it. Well, to be fair, many of them do. Others, however, are the definition of awful. For example, the term "family" had the synonym "blood". Am I being ridiculous here, guys? I mean, I think it is fairly obvious that you should use "relatives". I was *not* that bad when I took the class--and I do not understand how the average grade right now is a 71%. Okay, mathematically I do because I have 1 kid who is not turning anything in, but taking that aside, average is 76%. Zawhat?
Are my expectations really that high? I mean, I am the good kind of educator that discusses common mistakes on an assignment after grading, but they are still not getting it. I cannot imagine that my expectations are too high, since I have no expectations after they plagiarized their assignment on plagiarism.
Yay for teaching strategies like diversification, I suppose, because now they get to do a worksheet on this as group work! Hurray! That means that I can plan next week while they are in class this week.
Best. teacher. EVER!
Saturday, October 23, 2010
Young Love
Okay.....so I have it on good authority (my own observations) that Singin' Red likes the new teacher at work. It's kind of cute, although I think that she has resigned herself to never getting married or really dating anyone. But I think they are actually kind of cute together. He teaches science and coaches football, so he's kind of stockier, but still normal guy stature. Plus, he is super quiet. Singin' Red is def. a talker and well....she is a singer...the juxtaposition is perfect!!!!!!!!
Is it out of place for me to ask her if she really does like him? Can I ask him if he likes her? I am NOT a good match-maker. Although, I do not think that I would eff it up like Emma...or "Cher"
Is it out of place for me to ask her if she really does like him? Can I ask him if he likes her? I am NOT a good match-maker. Although, I do not think that I would eff it up like Emma...or "Cher"
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Bad Life Choice
God is punishing me today. Actually, I can’t really say that. I deserve it. No, not even “I deserve it” is appropriate, because that implies that God is in fact punishing me, which He is not. If we’re being honest, I brought this on myself. Today is a result of a bad life choice.
According to Urban Dictionary, bad life choices do not exist. Way to fail me, Urban Dictionary. Just when I thought we were friends. The alternate and apparently preferred term is “bad life decision,” defined thusly:
A decision that results in regretful mornings and bruised knees. A bad life decision is any hilarious decision committed under the influence of drugs, alcohol, or diner food. The term is often shortened to its acronym BLD.
This alternate term does not properly reflect the weight of the bad life choice, reducing the occurrence, instead, to hilarity. Being a good librarian, I attempted an alternate search statement: poor life choice. Again, to no avail. Why, Urban Dictionary, do you hate me? This, I will actually blame on Urban Dictionary, anthropomorphizing the site into an entity capable of hatred. This hatred is currently directed at me for reasons unknown, as commonly Urban Dictionary and I are besties. They email me every day! Back to the point, “poor life decision” is defined as:
Any choice made by an individual which results in shame, remorse, guilt, embarrassment, harassment, and other related feelings/consequences. These decisions tend to be hastily made and are usually pre-meditated, often with the understanding that negative feelings and ruined reputations are soon to follow. These poor life decisions (also often referred to as "PLD's") are elected for the sole purpose of self-gratification, attention, sexual pleasure, or to cure boredom. Often, these decisions involve sexual-based interactions with relative strangers and tend to result in morning-after stories of seemingly good ideas gone awry. Note: Alcoholic beverage consumption tends to increase the rate of PLD occurrences.
You see, premeditation is not a determining factor in a bad life choice. Bad life choices just happen and then you have to deal with the fallout. The bad life choice does not present itself as a poor decision, but escalation, a change in circumstances, or unforeseen complications in carrying out an activity or plan that, until this turning point, seemed perfectly normal and logical. These are sometimes comical, but are generally mild to moderate instances of misfortune. These pale in comparison to the Epic Fail, though are along the same line. The progression is as follows in the Fail Scale:
Fail ---> Bad Life Choice ---> Epic Fail
So now, my well-versed in the ways of failure in relation to choices friends, you can see how Urban Dictionary failing me only adds to the fail that is my day.
Friends, I will hold you in suspense any longer. I know that you are reading rapidly, skimming, even, to discover what sort of situation KFH got into this time. You may even be rolling your eyes, as you ask yourself “what did Aussie do?”
My bad life choice was going to the bar with Noa on a school night. Before you become outraged at this revelation of the subject matter of this post. I mean, going to the bar on a school night is not inherently bad. This is why it is a bad life choice. The original plan was to leave the bar at 11, drive Noa home, be in bed by midnight. And of course, I would not get drunk. Easy, right? Very do-able.
Have we met? This is why it was a bad life choice: it is originally just fine and dandy until an outside force intervenes, creating a poor situation that I was too drunk to react to. You see, Gardella’s has half off all drinks on Wednesday nights. HALF OFF!!!!!!!! Very exciting for the dedicated alcoholic on a budget. Plus, they come in Ball Jars. Ball. That is just baller. I mean, they say “Ball” on them. It validates my being. Still not a bad life choice.
The bad life choice happened when I was suddenly drunk. I did not realize that the Ball jar, being the “Tall” option was so big. Typically a tall beer is 12-14 ounces, so they are a standard beer and a half. The Ball jars are 16 ounces, which I discovered after the second tall hit me and Noa had ordered another round while I was in the Loo. No big deal. It’s only 10:40…we’ll get done with these and then kip out and ball our way home.
So, when we left the bar at 11:30 feeling pretty awesome, we decided to stumble into a second bar. Come the exit from said second establishment at the idiotic hour of 1am, I had made a bad life choice. I have to leave the house at 7am to get to work, which means getting up at 6:15 to shower and get ready. Lack of sleep in and of itself would be just fine and tolerable, excepting that I was drunk. So, after driving Noa home, I didn’t get home until 2:20ish, when I promptly got into my jammies, snuggled up with Pookey and fell sound asleep before my head hit the pillow.
I don’t know if you have experienced this cruel aspect of alcohol-related sleep deprivation, so allow me to explain, in realistic detail, my morning. When you wake up too soon after a night of drinking, it is difficult to move because you are so tired, never mind that it is the pitch dark of the six o’clock hour. I prefer to wake up to a post-noon sun after a night of too many drinks. Plus, my house was super cold. Lame. So, you are stumbling in the dark and, let’s face it, you are tired and everybody is less than sure-footed in the groggy first steps of any cold and dark morning. Then you experience the deciding step that does not land anywhere near where you planned or anticipated. You have to stop because it is spiny or disorienting. As you hunker down to steady or perhaps reach out for a nearby door frame or piece of furniture, your mind is processing that you are not just tired, but still drunk. Now your morning becomes a major problem. You have two choices: call in “sick” and go back to bed or man-up and get your ass into that shower.
While the warm (or hot) water of the shower feels soothing, it is a hidden curse. You see, the still drunk mind does not fully realize pain until that pain is eased and then comes back. This is the torture of the still drunk body ache shower. You have two options: hurry the F up and get out quickly, or take the slowest shower in the history of mankind in an attempt to prevent further unnecessary pain and to find the perfect position where everything feels fine. I have been told that sitting on a milk crate works well. I do not have a milk crate, so I cannot report firsthand on this finding. I have, however, been still drunk and thrown up in the shower. This is the only instance where I have called in sick and gone back to bed when alcohol was involved. I am quite proud of this fact.
World mildly or moderately spinning, not able to move very quickly or efficiently, you are a perfectly timed morning routine’s worst nightmare. Of course, your concept of time is way off, so you probably spent too long in the shower. To make matters worse, standard morning activities tend to be done in a slightly jumbled order. Any thoughts come from a vague shadow of the thought process, as though through a murky fog or veil. Luckily, the rote memory and ingrained necessities are seldom neglected. This is how I managed to place in the left earring after I placed the right, and what I attribute my clean teeth and presence of deodorant to.
On such a work day after a night of drinking, it is important to avoid displaying common signals of alcohol-related shenanigans in front of co-workers. Of course, most things can be attributed to a long week or a poor night’s sleep—both of which are typically true. Unmistakable indicators, however, should be avoided at all costs. This is why, as much as all I wanted to do this morning was drink a gallon of water in one pull, I sipped from my water bottle while amicably conversing with a co-worker. Other things to avoid include giving the sense that you are dizzy or fatigued. Interestingly enough, your brain is not capable of engaging in REM sleep while there is alcohol in your system, which is what causes the drowsy, fatigued symptom. The other big one is coordination and dizziness. You need a plan. You need to know where you are going, how you are going to get there and then do it. This means walking with purpose, but not rushed, and then sitting down when you get there. Do not grip a wall or make a big deal about a klutz move—they will know and it will be your ass. Luckily, I did not suffer from dizziness post-shower, so I did not have to deal with this, because I have been on my feet and walking around all day. Good times.
This Aussie Exploit was definitely on the fail scale. It is too serious to be a general Fail. Fails contain a purely comic element. It is also not the gravity or stuff of legends to achieve the Epic Fail. “How is this not an epic fail?” you might ask. “Surely, this is an epic post about an equally Epic Fail.” My friends, an Epic Fail would have included me parking on the sidewalk or perhaps me forgetting to set my alarm. Skipping work because I was too drunk to set my alarm and get my ass out of bed would be an Epic Fail.
This is by far my longest blog post ever. It should count as two! I hope that you enjoyed every word.
Clearly, I should not drink with Noa on a school night. . .bad life choice.
According to Urban Dictionary, bad life choices do not exist. Way to fail me, Urban Dictionary. Just when I thought we were friends. The alternate and apparently preferred term is “bad life decision,” defined thusly:
A decision that results in regretful mornings and bruised knees. A bad life decision is any hilarious decision committed under the influence of drugs, alcohol, or diner food. The term is often shortened to its acronym BLD.
This alternate term does not properly reflect the weight of the bad life choice, reducing the occurrence, instead, to hilarity. Being a good librarian, I attempted an alternate search statement: poor life choice. Again, to no avail. Why, Urban Dictionary, do you hate me? This, I will actually blame on Urban Dictionary, anthropomorphizing the site into an entity capable of hatred. This hatred is currently directed at me for reasons unknown, as commonly Urban Dictionary and I are besties. They email me every day! Back to the point, “poor life decision” is defined as:
Any choice made by an individual which results in shame, remorse, guilt, embarrassment, harassment, and other related feelings/consequences. These decisions tend to be hastily made and are usually pre-meditated, often with the understanding that negative feelings and ruined reputations are soon to follow. These poor life decisions (also often referred to as "PLD's") are elected for the sole purpose of self-gratification, attention, sexual pleasure, or to cure boredom. Often, these decisions involve sexual-based interactions with relative strangers and tend to result in morning-after stories of seemingly good ideas gone awry. Note: Alcoholic beverage consumption tends to increase the rate of PLD occurrences.
You see, premeditation is not a determining factor in a bad life choice. Bad life choices just happen and then you have to deal with the fallout. The bad life choice does not present itself as a poor decision, but escalation, a change in circumstances, or unforeseen complications in carrying out an activity or plan that, until this turning point, seemed perfectly normal and logical. These are sometimes comical, but are generally mild to moderate instances of misfortune. These pale in comparison to the Epic Fail, though are along the same line. The progression is as follows in the Fail Scale:
Fail ---> Bad Life Choice ---> Epic Fail
So now, my well-versed in the ways of failure in relation to choices friends, you can see how Urban Dictionary failing me only adds to the fail that is my day.
Friends, I will hold you in suspense any longer. I know that you are reading rapidly, skimming, even, to discover what sort of situation KFH got into this time. You may even be rolling your eyes, as you ask yourself “what did Aussie do?”
My bad life choice was going to the bar with Noa on a school night. Before you become outraged at this revelation of the subject matter of this post. I mean, going to the bar on a school night is not inherently bad. This is why it is a bad life choice. The original plan was to leave the bar at 11, drive Noa home, be in bed by midnight. And of course, I would not get drunk. Easy, right? Very do-able.
Have we met? This is why it was a bad life choice: it is originally just fine and dandy until an outside force intervenes, creating a poor situation that I was too drunk to react to. You see, Gardella’s has half off all drinks on Wednesday nights. HALF OFF!!!!!!!! Very exciting for the dedicated alcoholic on a budget. Plus, they come in Ball Jars. Ball. That is just baller. I mean, they say “Ball” on them. It validates my being. Still not a bad life choice.
The bad life choice happened when I was suddenly drunk. I did not realize that the Ball jar, being the “Tall” option was so big. Typically a tall beer is 12-14 ounces, so they are a standard beer and a half. The Ball jars are 16 ounces, which I discovered after the second tall hit me and Noa had ordered another round while I was in the Loo. No big deal. It’s only 10:40…we’ll get done with these and then kip out and ball our way home.
So, when we left the bar at 11:30 feeling pretty awesome, we decided to stumble into a second bar. Come the exit from said second establishment at the idiotic hour of 1am, I had made a bad life choice. I have to leave the house at 7am to get to work, which means getting up at 6:15 to shower and get ready. Lack of sleep in and of itself would be just fine and tolerable, excepting that I was drunk. So, after driving Noa home, I didn’t get home until 2:20ish, when I promptly got into my jammies, snuggled up with Pookey and fell sound asleep before my head hit the pillow.
I don’t know if you have experienced this cruel aspect of alcohol-related sleep deprivation, so allow me to explain, in realistic detail, my morning. When you wake up too soon after a night of drinking, it is difficult to move because you are so tired, never mind that it is the pitch dark of the six o’clock hour. I prefer to wake up to a post-noon sun after a night of too many drinks. Plus, my house was super cold. Lame. So, you are stumbling in the dark and, let’s face it, you are tired and everybody is less than sure-footed in the groggy first steps of any cold and dark morning. Then you experience the deciding step that does not land anywhere near where you planned or anticipated. You have to stop because it is spiny or disorienting. As you hunker down to steady or perhaps reach out for a nearby door frame or piece of furniture, your mind is processing that you are not just tired, but still drunk. Now your morning becomes a major problem. You have two choices: call in “sick” and go back to bed or man-up and get your ass into that shower.
While the warm (or hot) water of the shower feels soothing, it is a hidden curse. You see, the still drunk mind does not fully realize pain until that pain is eased and then comes back. This is the torture of the still drunk body ache shower. You have two options: hurry the F up and get out quickly, or take the slowest shower in the history of mankind in an attempt to prevent further unnecessary pain and to find the perfect position where everything feels fine. I have been told that sitting on a milk crate works well. I do not have a milk crate, so I cannot report firsthand on this finding. I have, however, been still drunk and thrown up in the shower. This is the only instance where I have called in sick and gone back to bed when alcohol was involved. I am quite proud of this fact.
World mildly or moderately spinning, not able to move very quickly or efficiently, you are a perfectly timed morning routine’s worst nightmare. Of course, your concept of time is way off, so you probably spent too long in the shower. To make matters worse, standard morning activities tend to be done in a slightly jumbled order. Any thoughts come from a vague shadow of the thought process, as though through a murky fog or veil. Luckily, the rote memory and ingrained necessities are seldom neglected. This is how I managed to place in the left earring after I placed the right, and what I attribute my clean teeth and presence of deodorant to.
On such a work day after a night of drinking, it is important to avoid displaying common signals of alcohol-related shenanigans in front of co-workers. Of course, most things can be attributed to a long week or a poor night’s sleep—both of which are typically true. Unmistakable indicators, however, should be avoided at all costs. This is why, as much as all I wanted to do this morning was drink a gallon of water in one pull, I sipped from my water bottle while amicably conversing with a co-worker. Other things to avoid include giving the sense that you are dizzy or fatigued. Interestingly enough, your brain is not capable of engaging in REM sleep while there is alcohol in your system, which is what causes the drowsy, fatigued symptom. The other big one is coordination and dizziness. You need a plan. You need to know where you are going, how you are going to get there and then do it. This means walking with purpose, but not rushed, and then sitting down when you get there. Do not grip a wall or make a big deal about a klutz move—they will know and it will be your ass. Luckily, I did not suffer from dizziness post-shower, so I did not have to deal with this, because I have been on my feet and walking around all day. Good times.
This Aussie Exploit was definitely on the fail scale. It is too serious to be a general Fail. Fails contain a purely comic element. It is also not the gravity or stuff of legends to achieve the Epic Fail. “How is this not an epic fail?” you might ask. “Surely, this is an epic post about an equally Epic Fail.” My friends, an Epic Fail would have included me parking on the sidewalk or perhaps me forgetting to set my alarm. Skipping work because I was too drunk to set my alarm and get my ass out of bed would be an Epic Fail.
This is by far my longest blog post ever. It should count as two! I hope that you enjoyed every word.
Clearly, I should not drink with Noa on a school night. . .bad life choice.
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
Three in a row!
I was really, really tired yesterday. So tired that I slept for 12 hours last night. "But Aussie," my concerned friends say, "How ever did you manage that?" Well, friends, I hate to admit it, but I went to bed at 6pm for a nap after a long day of work, meetings and antihistamines making me drowsy and then I never woke up for dinner. It's like some sort of self-inflicted punishment of lameness.
In other news, I just found out that one of my favorite students--she comes into the library all of the time, eats her lunch up here and is super nice and funny and social and gives me her Oreo's from her lunch because she doesn't want them--drives here from an hour away. An HOUR AWAY! Why? She got kicked out of her last school and her mom decided that she needed to get back on the moral path. Ugh. But she is so nice! I do not understand.
For your enjoyment, this is a MMMono-inspired video. I really miss having cable, because I could watch educational yet adorable animals ALL. THE. TIME! It was awesome. Now, not so much. . . until YouTube helped me out. Bwahahahahaahaha *cough* ha.
In other news, I just found out that one of my favorite students--she comes into the library all of the time, eats her lunch up here and is super nice and funny and social and gives me her Oreo's from her lunch because she doesn't want them--drives here from an hour away. An HOUR AWAY! Why? She got kicked out of her last school and her mom decided that she needed to get back on the moral path. Ugh. But she is so nice! I do not understand.
For your enjoyment, this is a MMMono-inspired video. I really miss having cable, because I could watch educational yet adorable animals ALL. THE. TIME! It was awesome. Now, not so much. . . until YouTube helped me out. Bwahahahahaahaha *cough* ha.
Monday, October 18, 2010
Water, water. Cool and clean comes running on down.
When I was in fifth grade, we did student lead prayer services on days that we did not have church...so every day excepting Wednesday. I'm sure we did this in some shape or form every year I was in Catholic grade school, but this year sticks with me the most because I had an AWESOME fifth grade teacher. So, we would pick the music and who would read and who would do whatever...it was pretty standard, I think. Early in the year, our teacher introduced us to this song called "Water" which for some reason has been stuck in my head all day. It goes like this (yes, i even remember the tune):
Water, water.
Cool and clean comes running on down
Water, water!
Bubble up out of the ground.
Water, water.
Stormy seas that batter the coast.
Water, Water!
It's the thing that matters the most.
Come rain upon us,
the waters from the heavens
Just like with Moses in the desert!
Water, water...
and then I foget the other verses, but it is presumably something about Jesus.
You are probably asking yourself, or even aloud as though I can hear you, "Why are you wasting a few and far between blog posting on this? I am outraged!!!!!!!!!" Feel free to editorialize on the number of exclamation points to appropriately express your own level of outrage.
You see, friends, I have had this song stuck in my head, and then I read this article.
This makes me think:
1. I really want to see that movie again. Remember when we saw it together, Toi and Mono?
2. This cannot be a coincidence that I remember a song about water from 14 years ago and the world is going into a water crisis with water thieves.
Hmmm.
Water, water.
Cool and clean comes running on down
Water, water!
Bubble up out of the ground.
Water, water.
Stormy seas that batter the coast.
Water, Water!
It's the thing that matters the most.
Come rain upon us,
the waters from the heavens
Just like with Moses in the desert!
Water, water...
and then I foget the other verses, but it is presumably something about Jesus.
You are probably asking yourself, or even aloud as though I can hear you, "Why are you wasting a few and far between blog posting on this? I am outraged!!!!!!!!!" Feel free to editorialize on the number of exclamation points to appropriately express your own level of outrage.
You see, friends, I have had this song stuck in my head, and then I read this article.
This makes me think:
1. I really want to see that movie again. Remember when we saw it together, Toi and Mono?
2. This cannot be a coincidence that I remember a song about water from 14 years ago and the world is going into a water crisis with water thieves.
Hmmm.
Sunday, October 17, 2010
Prodigal
How can a month go by so fast? Well, for starters, I have been insanely busy. I get to work before 7 and leave around 4:30. I am teaching 2 classes at alma matter and I have two choirs! I feel like an adult!
Downsides:
1. I do not have the time to post--in fact, I only just got caught-up on your postings!
2. I have not had any time to find an apartment. Which is actually okay, because I do not have the time to, you know, move.
Today was exciting...I was downtown at 7:30 to be ready to sing the National Anthem of Canada and the USA at the Marathon. Good times. Then I sang at mass. The Schola is shockingly promising this year. As in, we were fabulous before, but now I am just all kinds of excited about the choir's potential...if we did this well the first time out, I am very, very super excited for Christmas and tennebrae and other Jesus-y words.
I feel like an old lady these days. I fight to stay up past 9pm. Very lame.
The Vegan thing is going well. San Chez is possibly my favorite stop. Although, I do miss being able to go out for pancakes.
That's all for now, I suppose.
Downsides:
1. I do not have the time to post--in fact, I only just got caught-up on your postings!
2. I have not had any time to find an apartment. Which is actually okay, because I do not have the time to, you know, move.
Today was exciting...I was downtown at 7:30 to be ready to sing the National Anthem of Canada and the USA at the Marathon. Good times. Then I sang at mass. The Schola is shockingly promising this year. As in, we were fabulous before, but now I am just all kinds of excited about the choir's potential...if we did this well the first time out, I am very, very super excited for Christmas and tennebrae and other Jesus-y words.
I feel like an old lady these days. I fight to stay up past 9pm. Very lame.
The Vegan thing is going well. San Chez is possibly my favorite stop. Although, I do miss being able to go out for pancakes.
That's all for now, I suppose.
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