Niece Brookie

In the middle of June, one enjoys looking at snow.  

Did this in Photoshop, with scanned Black & White photos shot with a Chinon manual film camera and developed in the darkroom at school.

Made it into a puzzle for niece, and it'll get here the day AFTER her 3rd birthday!

Did it...

My mid-life crisis! 

Bloggers' Block

DAMN.   The proverbial block has hit my brain.

It all started when I got 7 orders for autographed books to mail overseas.  I've autographed 3 books so far, and I had no troubles.  Then suddenly, everything I wold draft seemed contrite and stupid.  Delani has to think of something WONDERFUL and EARTH SHATTERING to sign on her books, doesn't she?

Then, something absolutely exciting happened and took away all my remaining brain cells. I began a draft of the entry "Clear as Mud" about 2 weeks ago, but then the bloggers' block got so severe that I couldn't even finish that entry.  I hope to do so soon. 

So, this entry is mainly for Christopher and the two R's -- the only people with permission to read this third in the Thresholds trilogy.  Love ya all, and hope to be back up to speed in a couple weeks.  School will finally be over and we'll see if Delani gets her groove back.



 

The Highway to Hell

Living Vicariously

Having a moment of self-actualization -- that split second where you know why you were placed on this earth.

It happened last night, at Son #1's high school Spring musicale. He played Jack (of Jack and the Beanstalk fame) in "Into the Woods" and he kicked it. I am the proudest mamma on the planet because my boy can SING!

  So, evidently, I was born to breed a talented child so that I could live vicariously through him.  I was always just semi-talented, but this kid is way talented.  I suppose all stage mothers think this way; but I'm glad he surpassed me in talent and drive -- because his future is my ticket out of a bleak retirement! 

In this play, Jack is a dim-witted character until he saves the day.  The first act is all true to the Grimm Brothers' fairy tales, including Cinderella's evil step mother chopping off the toes and heels of her daughters so the slipper will fit.  But the second act was dark, with the message, "Be careful what you wish for."  Lots of death and sexual references, which I found to be fun.

Can't wait for his senior year and beyond.  Should be a fun ride.

Via: Online Schools

I am a published author.

Got the letter and the first-run author's copy of Thresholds and Other Ruminations last week.  It's taken me this long to come down from the cloud I've been perched on.

I shared my copy with folks who are important at work:  the English Department.  We are all very cool people, and we know how to properly use our swear words.  I also shared it with Loree the psych teacher and Miggs the French teacher, and I asked them all to keep it on the DL. 

We shall see.  I also programmed that First Amendment Lawyer into my phone, in the event they summons me to the HR office at 3:20 again.  Actually, Gurnie said to never go to a meeting without representation...so I won't this next time.

I keep wanting to come clean with my Principal so he isn't shocked when he finds out.  I want him to know that I didn't publish this to stick it to him...but to help other teachers and people who might have similar phobias and issues.  I wanted to honor my former and present students for being the troopers that they are.   I wanted to speak my mind in the present tense.

*sigh*

Funny how such a good thing could become such a bad thing.  I need my job now.  I can't afford to pursue my doctoral dream quite yet, and we just got a new house mortgage because of our sudden fire tragedy.

It was the best of times; it was the worst of times.

The Shake Down

Evidently, when you claim a total loss, it becomes a red flag to the IRS that  you want to be audited.  So, we are NOT getting that chunk of change back after all.  Hubby read the 2009 tax code front to back, and we decided it would not be to our benefit to even mention the fire in our taxes. 

So, let the living on the edge commence:  never having enough money to buy shit you want, and sometimes not even having enough money to get what you need.  Oh well, it's the story of my life so why should it change just because I'm nearly a half century old?

Careful For What You Wish

God.  She works in mysterious ways. 

 Apparently, when you lose everything in a fire, Uncle Sam has a heart.  We will be getting a nice chunk of change back in a couple weeks; once everything shakes out. 

Enough where I can get that iPad, that mo-ped AND pay the final payment on the first Thresholds.

Let the adventure begin.

Da Bombshell

I want a $499 (or more) Apple iPad.  No longer do I simply desire an iPhone.  I want the motherlode.

Speaking of mothers, mine has an obsession with small technology gadgets also.  We want tiny things that go beep and light up and store factlets about our busy lives.

 Steve Jobs and the iPad Intro in Jan. of 2010

Blatant promotion for Apple, so I expect a check in the mail, Steve.

Speaking of checks...our appointment with the tax accountant is inn 3 hours and hubby is searching frantically through our paperwork.  We hope to get a nice refund to augment the check we AREN'T getting from the family member who embezzled from us.

We need more money more money more money.  We have NOTHING in savings, and we need a basement finished, a garage, a sun porch and a deck built.  Hmmmmmmmm.  Dreams.  We have dreams.

We also have bills.  Medical bills resulted in a hike in premiums for the little guy.  Figures, fucking insurance companies and big business that rules the world.

OK.  I am a consumer and I am a bitcher.  I can have it my way.  

If I Grow Up

I wanna be Dr. Ruth, plain and simple.  Except I wanna take advantage of the Internet and sit on my ass spreading the wealth.  Wealth = knowledge of one's own sexuality and healthy relationships therein.

I want the world to love more and hate less.  Is that so wrong?

Spring Break: Training the Humans

As I sit and hammer on the keyboard, Gordon sleeps between my feet on the floor.  The 8-week-old bundle of cuteness can shit on my foot, literally, and I will praise him for NOT shitting on the carpet. 

Actually, as I typed that, Gordon woke up and whimpered, so I took him outside immediately.  The little puggle pooped immediately!  Talk about PRAISE!  Good dog!  Way to go Gordon!

So it's officially Spring Break, where we have a week to train ourselves as to the needs of this new baby we have willingly brought into our household.  A $300 bundle of joy joy joy joy down in our hearts. 

Meet Gordy

 

8 week old Gordon, from the craigslist ad.

We are going to hop in the caddy and go get Gordon from a puppy farm south of here.  I had a wild hair and looked for puppies on craigslist (actually was looking to get rid of the killer rabbit there) and found this puggle.  I fell in love, and so did Son #2.  

Can't wait to take lots of photos and photoshop Gordon on his adventures in the Bleu household.  Bet the two cats aren't going to like him one bit.  Chaos shall ensue, to be sure.

And I love it.

High-Tech High School Drama

What we have here is a failure to communicate...

Two weeks ago, I awoke to a frantic gmail chat from Ranae.  To sum:

Her sister, Anna, had been the target of a new facebook group that had sprung up over night.  The "I dislike Anna Strong" group was full of vitriolic comments explaining how much she was disliked.  Basically, the two girls got into it on instant messaging and decided to bring the whole world into their drama by being mean on facebook.  

As I later figured out, the truth is usually somewhere in the middle in a situation like this.

Another teacher saw the group, and posted for them to knock it off after I had already issued this warning:

"This takes "Mean Girls" to new heights.  Solve this by school tomorrow or I get involved."  Shortly after these warnings, the girls took down the site, but others sprung up in imitation.  I stopped reading the drama. 

The next day, a colleague, who is Anna's swim team coach, mentioned it to me and was very appalled that the mean girls would do this to Anna.  She said the other teacher who had posted on the site had told the Principal, and the girls were being called into the counselor's office over the whole ordeal.

Later that night, I had a nagging feeling that I didn't know enough about first amendment rights as they pertain to the Internet and schools monitoring such speech.  I remembered the two previous times where I have turned in students for facebook infringements on common sense (The I hate Mrs. Danner group; The Bad/Good about XHS.)  In both cases, the Principal simply talked to the offending parties and asked them to take them down.  The kids obliged.  End of Story.

But is it?  Do students have the right to free speech on social networking sites?  Do schools have the authority to monitor student comments on them? 

Then, my way-back machine-like memory kicked in...I was a definite trendsetter with the XHS Planet X forum back in my first and second year -- young wannabe journalists would sound off on topics of their choosing and a culture was born.  BUT, the administration got uncomfortable when it was a school-hosted site and when the parent of a teen who committed suicide heard kids were discussing her son's death on the site protested.


So I've been on both sides of the proverbial fence.  Do I support student's first amendment rights or not?  So I set off on a google search (Rupert Murdoch, you may drop me a check in the mail for the product placement any time) for phrases like "student first amendment rights" "first amendment or harassment?"  "do schools have power over off-campus speech?" etc.

And the best part is i found a review of the related literature that was only 24 pages long.  Both the mean girl and Anna were in my newspaper class (that's why i was going to get involved) so I had mean girl read the review and write up a story, either opinion or feature, over the literature. 

Brilliant, eh?  I don't have to read it and she can educate the whole student body, and I'm also happy to report that nearly 3 weeks later, mean girl is not so mean and Anna is not so cocky. 

Nevertheless, I'm having the 5-year itch about switching jobs or direction in life.  Drama does that to me.

Out of Order Post

I'm going to blog about the reunion before I blog about the high-tech high school drama.  I have the HTHS-drama saved in draft form, I just can't for the life of me figure out how to end it neatly with a pretty bow.

Reunion = rockin' good time.  Even the part where the large girl fell off of the stool in a race down the ramp near my classroom and thought she broke her arm.

The boys were awesome, and helped us do many twists and turns and nice things with this month's paper.  We recorded several vignettes that Pi is going to post somewhere on the web where I can use them train future editors.  I even knew how to do 75% of what they were teaching, but never seem to understand well enough to teach very well.  Them sitting head to head with current editors is the real way it's supposed to be....generations training the generations, not one superpowerful adviser who has to do it all.

Epiphany #346.  Thank you Steakboy, Pi and Jedi -- for being my mission-driven rocks.



 

Steakboy, Jedi and Pi Reunion

Laken left us in mid-year to go off into the big world and conquer it.  I believe she will do just that.  But she left us high and dry with no real life jacket in case of floods.

To put it simply, she did all the work for the cover first semester and didn't train our new editor-in-chief how to do it.  She didn't come to deadline nights because she had a college class inconveniently scheduled for the same night, so she didn't share her brain with us.  She did create a basic handout for inDesign that has served very useful, so I will give her huge props for that.

I love her, do not get me wrong.  Love has nothing to do with it.  This is about leaving a legacy....training others until you are not needed any longer.  I have learned that it is not MY job any longer to do this; it is the students'.  I used to obsess about not knowing how to do things like properly size a photo in Photoshop or how to create an illustration in Illustrator, but now I know these things.  Sure, I still can't remember how to wrap text around an image in inDesign, but I have a plan.

This month, I have asked Steakboy, Jedi and Pi to attend deadline night.  I have offered to pay gas and food from my own pocket.  They can teach us a ton of cool stuff AND I can relax.  I might film them, and I will laugh heartily.  These boys trained Laken, but the legacy stopped with her and didn't move on.  So, I have decided to go back to the source and have a reunion of the BRAINS so I can capture it for use into perpetuity.

Meanwhile I play trivia:

Record streak: LivelyLibra of 60. Record time: LivelyLibra of 1.906. Record wpm: LivelyLibra of 60. Happycat gives LivelyLibra keg of beer for kicking everybodies asses!  10 questions!

And sit on this the 9th or 10th snow day of the year, reminiscing about the old days.  Five years is a long time, and learned much, have I.  There is still a lot to learn, but I have made progress.  I can maybe ride this year out -- if I survive the March release of Thresholds and Other Ruminations.

Sick for no reason.

Test results came back "normal."

Which means Son #2 has been sick for 2 1/2 months now for no apparent reason.  No syndrome or ulcer or cancer found in the biopsies of his stomach, so we are back at square one.

Square fiber crackers that is.  And thick fiber beverages and fiber everything; must total 20 to 25 grams a day.  Couple that with some ulcer meds for prevention, and you've got a course of treatment for two weeks.  After two weeks, he may start a mood stabilizer to help him deal with his chronic pain.

AND we are supposed to take him in to see a psychiatrist.  So, my suspicions were mostly correct. 

Now I gotta figure out how to get the little shit to actually talk to the shrink.  He says he will walk out or just not talk.  He is only 10...he's not supposed to have this much angst or this much anger or this much avoidance in him.   Will somebody please tell him that?

Almost Sane

If we get good test results back tomorrow, there is a fair to partly-cloudy chance I'll be almost sane.

Son #2 braved the colonoscopy and esophagus scope like a pro, and the hospital staff couldn't have been any nicer or more helpful.  We got some great pics of his healthy colon, and some not so great pics of his stomach with slight irritations.  Those have been biopsied and now we wait for the results.

So we are praying for an ulcer.   In a ten-year-old. 

Friday was the year anniversary of Burning Down the House.  Hubby and I were awakened by loud sobbing at 3 AM.   Son #2 was remembering the fire, and being in the house, and the cats we lost and was unconsolable for awhile.

This isn't good;  but i think we have hit on the root source of the ulcer, if that's what this is. 

If.

Can't think of much else now, so Roger, Out.

Feeling McCoy Ornery

Some days, my prescription anti-depressants just don't work, and my slight mania takes over.  It's kinda fun, so I'm not complaining.  But I feel like doing radical things now:  things like going into Son #2's room and screaming, "Wake up now you little shit" for no good reason.  I sometimes feel like howling at the moon, or like making love all day.

Of course, I don't ACT on these urges....they just exist.  That's why I'm only cyclothymic and not fully bipolar.  But I think the McCoy gene doesn't help much.  Seriously, all my McCoy relatives are ornery and not quite right.  I've spoken of this previously, and even included proof that we are insane in a previous entry. 

For example, right now I am investigating two web sites:  deathswitch.com and slightlymorbid.com.  These sites offer you a way to reach out from beyond the grave and let your online friends know you have died, or lets your coworkers know important passwords, etc.  I find this fascinating;  I have made many friends online who I would miss if they suddenly disappeared.  Seems weird, but this is the Information Age, peeples, so get with the program.

So, call it what you may, but I am definitely feeling McCoy ornery today.  Maybe I should go visit my Grandpa McCoy, who is having a very tough time after Grandma's death.  He misses his life partner.  We never had a funeral for her, and it got too cold to spread her ashes over the lake or to bury the cremains, so I feel like I have no closure there.   We need a good old fashioned Irish wake -- where we can all get together and get down and dysfunctional. 

Or maybe I'll just go back to that making love all day idea. 


 

Things That Worry Me

1.  Son #2 has to have a colonoscopy and endoblahblahscopy this week.  He's only ten, so this is extremely worrisome.  But at least we might have some answers as to why he's been sick for 3 months.  As he so eloquently said in a fit of frustration the other night, "But they are going to shove a camera up my ASS!"

2.  The US Supreme Court made a historically bad ruling this week.  Evidently corporations are now considered equal with citizens with first amendment protections.  Translation = Big business is going to rule the country now, since they can donate to political candidates with no limits.  Can you say Facism?

3.  What will happen once I publish Thresholds and Other Ruminations in March?  Is this a totally stupid dream of mine that I should give up?  Guess it's too late now, as the publisher has the final product all ready to go.  Maybe I should have thought this through more...I kinda need that pesky day job to pay the mortgage on our new house.

4.  We have yet to submit a page on this year's yearbook.  Same shit, different year.

5.  The damn kids decided to do a "mustache" issue of the school newspaper, over my loud protests.  Now, the three girls who wanted it the most didn't write their fucking stories.  We have no pics.  Deadline night is next Tuesday.  Heads will roll.

6.  The power keeps flickering and going off and on today; 3 days after an ice storm.  No big deal, EXCEPT I'M ADDICTED TO THE INTERNET. 

Time to admit I'm a worry wart.  Time to admit Delani has no control over life. Time to stop talking about self in 3rd person.

7th Snow Day and Day 27 Blues

I'm singing the blues today.  If I were more clever, like my bestest college buddy Sandita, I would compose a song.

But I'm not that clever.  All I can do is bitch in prose. 

Today is our 7th snow day of the school year.  It is actually the second ice day; today we are closed because of power outages due to the recent ice storm.  This means we have to make up school well into June;  looks like around the 10th for kids by now and 11th for teachers.  I don't really care, as we will still be working on the yearbook into July most likely.  The attached photo is one I took yesterday of our evergreen tree, in case a picture IS worth a thousand words.

More importantly, I'm singing the Day 27 blues due to an erratic menstrual cycle.  I used to be regular as hell; but now, i'm all over the place as I enter peri-menopause.  I have night sweats now and surprise periods -- how's that for living life on the edge?

So, back to the old grindstone:  gmail, facebook x 3 accounts, plurk, twitter, youtube, flickr, skype and irc chat.  Somebody's gotta be a lush.

Cute Shoe Fetish

I haz dat.

I love cute shoes.  Imelda Marcos has nothing on me. 

(History lesson according to wikipedia:  After the Marcos family fled Malacañang Palace, Marcos was found to have left behind 15 mink coats, 508 gowns, 1000 handbags^[11] and 3000 pairs of shoes.^[12] )

I left behind many shoes also; shoes from the 70's and 80's and 90's and 2000's.  Left them in the stupid burning house.  I've received many cute shoes since the fire, though, from donations and from buying them.  One problem:  I have plantar fasciitis and am not supposed to wear cute shoes.

Heavy sigh.  

Redundant Redundacies

I have a big chip on my shoulder about redundancies.  I am a trained journalist, so I am well aware of the rule of avoiding redundancies like "8:00 a.m. in the morning" or "total destruction." 

But I had a boss a few years back who had a bug up his butt about using the same word twice within a piece of writing.  In this case, it was grant reports.  So, he would have everyone proofread everyone else's writing, and if you used a word twice, you were in trouble.  

I have been using words on purpose repeatedly in this blog, for effect, and in my writing in real life for a long time.  I don't think you have to use a fucking thesaurus to compose.  I think some words are fun to use over and over and over.  I would have liked to have had this argument with my boss, but he fired me before I could get to it.   I think this is the one black cloud in my brain that just won't go away.  I got fired for being incompetent as a philanthropist. 

Sigh.  The only other job I was ever fired from was a fast-food restaurant when i was 15.  I was smoking on the job -- even though I didn't smoke.  Found a pack in the dining room after closing and lit one up to be funny.  What I didn't know was my regional supervisor was hiding in the dining room spying on us.   Oh well, I lied and said I was 16 anyway to get the job, so there. 

So, to sum:  don't be redundant unless the redundancy is effective.  Don't work for rich, snobby people, and whatevr you do:  don't smoke on the job.

Epic Dilemma

I tease a lot, and sometimes I never let the reader in on the story.  I think maybe Book #4 will be the ruminations that I have alluded to but haven't gone into depth about. 

A few entries ago, I teased about an epic dilemma we face this holiday season.  Then, in the last entry I mentioned a bad loan to a family member. . and that is where this tale begins.

We loaned some of our fire insurance money to a family member who promised to pay it back way before we would need it.  BUT OF COURSE, he didn't pay it back...well, he wrote a bad check for it.  So we are screwed.  Can't turn him into the law and can't break his ankles.  All we can do is wait for his new anti-depressants to kick in and hope he makes a payment plan soon. 

The dilemma isn't that though, the dilemma is that we are expected to go to a Christmas celebration with this person and act like nothing has happened.  If we don't go, then we will be the bad guys.  I am not good at holding my tongue, so this could be interesting.  IF it ever happens.  The weather screwed everything up at Christmas this year:  Son #1 didn't come up and we didn't go to my parents for Christmas Eve. 

As a result, we didn't get together on Christmas day with this person.  He canceled again for the following Sunday when the weather wasn't even bad.  Then, he canceled again today, New Year's Day.  So we are supposed to change our schedule and go on Sunday.  I felt like a fool buying presents for them, and I am resentful that they used OUR money to buy presents for us.  What a crock of shit.

I'm not being a very good person this holiday season by harboring this resentment.  I know this.  But I've had this debt owed to us for 6 months now, and it wears on you over time.  I hardly care that he almost killed himself from guilt over our debt and others...that's how numb I am to the whole situation.

So, how can I combine my new clergy aspirations with my old resentments?  How can I snap out of this funk and get to more healthy feelings?  This is the most epic dilemma I've ever faced to date, mainly because I always used contraception and didn't get pregnant when I was a teenager.

Yup, never got knocked up but now I got knocked down by money.  Oh, and also because we trusted this person to tell us the truth and make good on his promises.  Should have listened to what THEY say:  Never lend money to a family member.