Posts

Showing posts from 2018

What's Going On

I've been having fibroid issues, at which many Women of a Certain Age will nod knowingly. Basically, my uterus is a bit crowded for what should be a low-traffic area at this point in my life. Friday I was supposed to have a procedure to investigate and improve things, but it didn't quite go as planned and I have to go back and have it done under general anesthesia. This rather blows, but on the bright side, the nurse taking care of me was Gina from Brooklyn 99. I mean, she probably wasn't really, except she was, if you know what I mean. Except nice. Really, really nice. And there was fentanyl. Last Monday I was at work at my Monday school and the vice principal came in and told me that the other library technician had had a family emergency and he wanted to know how many of her shifts I could cover. Not to make her family emergency all about me, but this, again, rather blew. I'm loving work, but my whole plan to Get Christmas Shit done after being away for a week in N

For Steph, Who Asked What It Was Like

What's it like to have a kid in college? Far away, not-living-at-home college (that's the only kind I know so far)? I can only describe my own experience, obviously. First of all, it has not been a constant, daily pining ache, which the comments on a recent Facebook article indicate that it is for many mothers. I'm torn between feeling like I'm a less attached or devoted mother for this reason, or that those other mothers maybe need a hobby. There's also the fact that he had a very busy school and sports schedule the last few years he was at home, so maybe those mothers were used to seeing their kids more on a daily basis. Mostly it feels like he's just away for a baseball tournament. Often I just forget that he's not actually downstairs in his man-cave. Our usual schedule was that he would come home from school and sit on the arm of the couch while I made him a snack and we would talk about a variety of things, and then he would go off to workout or pr

The Posters Were Five Dollars Each

Second day at the new school went much better than the first day. I have kindergarten classes! Two of them! It's been a while since I had to look over the desk and down to find the beaming little face. They're just as likely to hand you their shoe as their book, but they're so damned cute and enthusiastic that it doesn't really matter. One class has an Addison and an Edison, a Darien and a Darren, and a Jana and a Jenna, so not confusing at all. It's kind of funny how you develop a very close relationship with a very small segment of a school's population when you work one shift a week. When the first class came in, I explained that I was new and told them to correct me if I got any of the library procedures wrong. Then I outlined what I thought should happen, and the teacher at the back said "sounds like you got it down pat", but what I heard was "sounds like a goddamned plan", and I had to stop and process for a minute. As the class was wi

Settling the Heck Down

So I fell off the NaBloPoMo wagon. Hard. In what would have been my tenth straight year. Part of me feels really bad about that, like it's a sign that I've given up on the only type of writing I've ever achieved something approximating success at, like I had a chance to keep something really meaningful going and I blew it. The other part of me thinks, Hmm, what else have I never done in any of those other nine Novembers?: Driven to New York and back regularly to visit my killing-it-at-college son; started a second job; hung out in Cabo for a week reconnecting with my long-suffering husband, drinking really excellent tequila, sexy-dancing with a nurse and a PR VP, riding a camel and being, by all reports, a hands-down fabulous show wife; I've run out of things and I feel like there should be at least one more, but you get the gist. So, as I said one year, sometimes you do it well and sometimes you just do it. As it turns out, sometimes you don't actually do it like

Desserts, Just and Less So

So I got the job. Either they liked me more than it seemed they did or I was the only applicant - which is fine, I'm not proud. To answer Steph's question (HI STEPH) it is to supplement my current gig, which is only one day a week at one school. This is on Mondays at a different school which is very close to my house; my ten-minute drive on Wednesdays is now my long commute. It's all kind of funny because years ago when I started my diploma, people were saying there was a projected library tech shortage for right now, and I would roll my eyes and say "yeah, okay, we'll see" and now postings are showing up fairly regularly on the job board. It's not a huge deal and it's not a large amount of money, but I do regularly feel very happy about the fact that I'm actually getting paid to do a job I went to school for because at one point in my life it seemed unlikely that that would ever happen. I suppose it's barely possible that having a classroom of

Day 13

I had another job interview this morning. It's another small position close by, but the resemblance to the last interview process sort of ended there. I sent in my application from Mexico from my husband's computer with a small degree of difficulty. The principal called me last night. Instead of just asking me to come in, she grilled me to a pretty high degree about stuff I thought was already in my cover letter and résumé. Then she said "are you applying to other positions?" and I thought oh! She's afraid I don't really want a one-day position or that I won't stay for long. I did my best to reassure her that I lack ambition and am very happy to work very little for the long term. The last interview was a joyous happy frolic. I immediately loved the principal and v.p., we had a bunch of coincidental things in common, our purposes dovetailed nicely in that they were desperate for a library tech and I was one. The interview today was the usual drill - they

Best-Laid Plans and All That

Wi-fi was spotty and Blogger refused to work any harder than I was in Mexico. I'm a tiny bit sad that my nine-year streak was wrecked. On the other hand, this trip was, despite an epically, comically, historically bad flight home (tiny plane with no leg room to begin with, man in front of me reclined his seat until my tray table was jammed into my boobs, family behind us with four kids, one of whom kicked my seat for four hours like it was his job, another of whom was the literal Screaming Baby, only three bathrooms in the back of the plane, which was blocked off with the service cart for most of the flight) such an incredible gift. I have apologized to my husband extensively for doing everything I could not to have to go (although not for mocking the Circle of Excellence thing, I still think that's hilarious).

Apologies

Image
Let’s be honest. We all knew blogging from Mexico would be a stretch. I thought at least I’d post a photo a day or something. But I suck at typing on my phone and, well.... tequila. I’ll make it up to you when I get home.  Here’s some pictures of a cool statue.   

Not at All Confusing 

Image
Korean Street Tacos. In Denver. En route to Mexico. 

Day 5

We're going to Mexico on a reward trip for my husband for being in a "Circle of Excellence" at work (will I mock him for something that nets me a free trip somewhere warm in November? Yes, yes I will. I'm not proud of it, but there it is). There's a website with numerous pictures of the beautiful resort, a detailed itinerary of all the fun things we get to do, and pictures of all the trip winners and their spouses. So naturally I'm spending all my time obsessively poring over the pictures of the wives, who are all better-looking than me. WHY AM I LIKE THIS?

That Feeling When

Image
it's been raining for days and days and everything feels heavy and soggy and life is okay but distinctly Novemberish and then the week-end comes and there are plans but you really just want to hibernate and try to stay dry but you haul your ass onto the treadmill and out to the park and next door to your fabulous neighbour's birthday party because it's always a tremendous risk moving into a house where you plan to live for years and years and not knowing who you're going to be living beside, and finding out that they're amazing people whose kids will become friends with your kids and who will let you crash their new year's eve party when your kid has a stupid hockey game on new year's eve and who will lend you sugar or tomato sauce or a margarita when you need one is purest good luck to be treasured. And you drink and laugh and stay up way too late and feel happy that your friend has other awesome friends. Then you come home and go to sleep and get up and

Day 3

I've been lacking exercise lately. I'm not beating myself up because things have been busy and I have been not feeling my best, so that's fine. Last night I had plans to walk on the treadmill but instead I cocooned on the couch and watched a really good British mini-series, so that was also fine. Today I slept in and decided to get on the treadmill before showering. Usually I do five minutes slow warm-up and then try to go pretty fast for half an hour. Today I just stayed pretty slow and walked longer than usual and felt really good - my shoulder and feet and hips have all been cranky lately, and they all felt fine. Lucy hates it when I'm on the treadmill - she sits at the closed basement door and whines the whole time. So I usually take her out at least for a short walk when I come up, even though I am sweaty and gross and my hair is tragic. It's been raining for what feels like all of recorded history here, but as I took her out it cleared a bit and the sun

Newbery Post: Crispin the Cross of Lead and Walk Two Moons

Image
Yes, it's another entry in my slow-and-irregular Newbery Medal series - I hope no one was holding their breath.  Last year when I was subbing in various libraries around the city, I would scan the shelves for Newbery books and read them at breaks. I found these two at Mutchmor Elementary School. Crispin, the Cross of Lead by Avi (Newbery Medal Winner 2003): Synopsis from Goodreads: "Asta's Son" is all he's ever been called. The lack of a name is appropriate, because he and his mother are but poor peasants in 14th century medieval England. But this thirteen-year-old boy who thought he had little to lose soon finds himself with even less - no home, no family, or possessions. Accused of a crime he did not commit, he may be killed on sight, by anyone. If he wishes to remain alive, he must flee his tiny village. All the boy takes with him is a newly revealed name - Crispin - and his mother's cross of lead. This was probably one of the best examples of

How Much Can No Blo?

Image
I apologize heartily for saying that blogging was dead, particularly because Swistle is still busy KILLING it. I think it's safe to say that NaBloPoMo is kind of dead, at least in its original incarnation, since BlogHer doesn't seem to be running it anymore. This matters not a whit to me, since when I started doing it I was just copying a fellow blogger and didn't even really KNOW what the deal was, I just thought it was a cool (and terrifying and horrible and stupid) idea. I've done it every year since, even when I think I'm not going to, even when I've been a completely slothful waste of space leading up to it, and I am nothing if not a creature of (usually bad) habit. It also brings something hopeful to November, that damp stale dishrag of a month, so here we go. Please be advised that my habitual disclaimer stands: there will be a post every day. Not a good post. Not a long post. Just a post. I will pontificate on the minutest of minutiae. I will post abo

My Terrible, Horrible, Not-that-bad, Still-Kind-of-Good Day at Work

So this was a few weeks ago - my third shift, I think. To backtrack a bit, I had gone in to talk to the office administrator after my first shift and she had told me a place I could park where you're technically not supposed to park (by the dumpsters) because I'm out by 2:30. The second week I drove in and saw the spot I thought she meant, but it really looked like you shouldn't park there, so I parked on the street again and DOUBLE-CHECKED with her that it was the spot she meant. So today, I parked there. I went into the library. Did I mention that the learn-to-play-ukulele club meets in the library at the recess that is just before my shift? So the environment is less-than-serene at the best of times? But today when I went to log in to the computer, it was stuck in an update. This means I can't check books in or out or look up whether anyone has books out. Did I mention that my first classes are all of the autism unit? Where routine is, shall we say, key? So, okay

Inarticulate Grunt of Exasperation

Image
Why do I keep not blogging? Why? I don't want to stop blogging. I don't care that blogging is dead. I think of things to blog about daily. Then I go to bed and remember that I didn't blog. Then I  think that I'll just write a new post without mentioning the hitherto lack of blogging, but I can't seem to help myself there either. Also, as soon as I started writing this I realized the other problem - I have forgotten to upload pictures relevant to things I meant to post about, but if I go upload the pictures now, well we all know what will happen, right? So I got a tiny little job. A tiny little job that is perfect for me in location, description and mostly duration (I could probably stand a few more hours, but whatever). For the past years while I've been home with the kids (and, increasingly, without them), I marveled at people with depression or difficult life events who said they liked having to go to work because it distracted them from their problems. I th

Short and... Short

I went to bed exhausted and had vivid dreams about the kids being small again (and Matt wearing pink shorts, for some reason), and right now I don't feel like being rational and adult and phlegmatic about the whole thing - I feel like life has played a giant mean prank on me - here, have these tiny people, they're awesome and funny and will make you see whole new worlds, but they're also a giant pain in the ass so you won't be all that sad to see them go. NICE ONE, LIFE. I've been trying really hard to live in the moment, realize that tomorrow is not promised, embrace the chaos - all your standard clichés. Being at this age where celebrities die and I'm surprised at how old they are and how young they still seem, seeing my parents getting older, feeling more and more mortal - I know how fast things can go if you don't pay attention. The thing is, they go fast even if you DO pay attention. And it's hard to know exactly HOW you're supposed to embrace

Sometimes the Universe is a Dick. Occasionally She is Kind.

So my blog post last year on this day was complaining that I was overwhelmed about starting to look for a job and Angus was getting screwed around by the guidance office at school. This week Eve is getting screwed around by the guidance office at school but today I had a job interview for a job - a very small job, a microscopic job, like a job that can barely be seen by the naked eye, but still, a job - and by the time I got home and texted by reference they had already called her, and then before lunch they called me and offered it to me. I told Eve I was sorry if I sucked up all the luck this week. I was determined not to get my hopes up, not because I thought I wasn't qualified, but because the job is so absurdly, stupidly perfect for me at this point in my life that it just seemed impossible that I would actually get it. (I don't mean by this that it pays a whole lot or anything, you get that, right? I mean it's close by, and a few hours in the middle of the week

Roller Coaster of Emotions

A couple of weeks ago, two friends and I took our younger kids to Canada's Wonderland . We went down to Toronto on Monday, went to Ripley's Aquarium (it was magical, would go back in a heartbeat), walked around, had dinner at the Old Spaghetti Factory, spent the night in a weird hotel in Richmond Hill, and hit CW early on Tuesday. A rainy, rainy Tuesday. Like, the forecast started out rainy and got rainier, with multiple chances for thunderstorms. But we were committed, and, like Eve's friend Rachel said, hey, no lines. So we marched into the (totally empty) park (every person at every checkpoint kept saying "you know there are no refunds, right?")  got sorted with lockers and rain ponchos, marched up to the Leviathan, filed on immediately (because no lines) and started chugging up the long, long, high hill. This was my thought process: "Hang on. I just got on. I wasn't sure I was going to get on. I'm just here because Eve wanted to come. Do I even

Words and Food and Going Away

Since I started my last post talking about Lynn , why break the streak? I deleted Twitter from my phone on the strong urging of my sweet and wise friend Hannah - she detected that it was both making me angry all the time and giving me another excuse to sit brooding instead of getting off my ass and doing something constructive. It was good - when I felt the need to check Twitter I would remember it wasn`t there, and I would literally force myself to stare into space until I got bored enough to get up and do something. Then Lynn mentioned this game that she saw someone playing on their phone on the bus that involves words and trivia and.... DAMN YOU LYNN. So I just linked to Lynn`s blog, which naturally led me to read her latest post before coming back here because I am a champion procrastinator, and she mentioned that she made a meal and her family ate all of it. This is a huge deal because she has myriad food allergies and underweight children to deal with, so the exciting thing it

Still Here, Still a Zombie

I just commented on Lynn's blog , which reminded me that she commented on my last post and made me think I WILL keep posting Lynn, I WILL. And then I didn't. I'm tired today. This is sort of sucky because I haven't done that much to be tired from. BUT I did go to a play Friday night, a birthday party Saturday night, a dentist appointment Monday morning, a physio appointment Tuesday afternoon and several errand-ish places with Pam yesterday. SO this means I'm tired from doing SOME stuff, whereas for the past several weeks before this one, I was exhausted from doing almost nothing. A tiny, barely-discernible, possibly-invisible-to-the-naked-eye amount of improvement has taken place. Soooo, what has flitted through my mind recently that I thought I might blog about and then didn't? I worked a little bit. There was a pair of twins in one of the classes at a Glebe school whose names were so wondrously harmonious that I immediately wanted to write a series of book

Book Review (sort of): Everything I Never Told You by Celeste Ng

So I guess it's true that as my depression goes, so goes my blog. Or maybe it's inversely proportional? Either way, here we are, or are not. In sort-of good news... no, not really, but I guess in sort-of illuminating news that means I won't chuck my antidepressant, my friend Dani (HI DANI) posted something on Facebook that gave me a thundering A-HA moment. Of course, I didn't save it so now I will go hunt-scroll on Facebook for an hour or so to find it. BRB. Oh, here it is . In short, it talks about peri-menopausal symptoms that aren't widely known, including a pervasive brain fog and memory problems, because "fluctuations in estrogen and testosterone make it hard to concentrate, wreak havoc on your memory, and influence your mood." The thing is, I knew I wasn't concentrating well and my memory was scary bad, and when I read blog posts from a few years ago and compared them to recent ones, they almost seemed to have been written by someone else. I

My Kids Being Funny

I'm in sort of a weird place. I spent a few years raising kids and not worrying about getting a job. Then I spent a few years raising kids and working at a slow and meandering pace towards a diploma that would help me get a job. Then I spent a few months looking for a job. Now I have a job, but I'm not working much. So, like, when I'm not working, what's my job? You know? It's fine. I've been on a very satisfying decluttering and purging tear, hung out with the kids a little during exams, and I'm keeping an eye out for steadier work. I've made it to the gym three weeks in a row, which all on its own is ample evidence that I'm doing better than I usually am in January. It's just all a little weird. Eve Being Funny About Biscuits: I was baking biscuits when Eve got home from school the other day, which made her very happy. She perched on the arm of the couch watching me cut out biscuits and place them on a cookie sheet saying "I'm so

Books 2017: Five Stars

Image
So here's the thing. I don't typically write a lot about books I give five stars to (which denotes amazingness), because I'm busy being, you know, amazed. Also, I am heartily sick of my own reviewing voice at the moment. See everyone next year? The Convulsion Factory by Brian Hodge. Synopsis from Goodreads :  Thematic collection of 12 stories based around the theme of urban decay. In all honesty, I had another look at this last night and almost decided to leave it off this post. I actually did find it quite amazing, but there's a lot of taboo and fetish-y sex stuff, and I'm not sure exactly who I would wholeheartedly recommend it to. All of the stories are extremely dark, in a way that serves the theme rather than just for shock value; I also found a strong compassion, though, for the disenfranchised and anyone who feels lost, including sympathetic portrayals of the transgender community. There was a tender recognition of the yearning for human connection.