The Bureaucratic Nightmare That Is My Life

As most of my readers know, I've had to put on hold my dreams and ambitions for now and suck it up and return to the wonderful world of retail.  With two college degrees.  I don't blame Hubby at all.  Ok, well maybe a little, but it's really not his fault. And I know that.  Rationally.

The real blame can be directed at the professor at my college who oversaw my student teaching.  During that period, I reported directly to two people: my cooperating teacher, with whom I had to get approval for all lesson plans and he pretty much shaped me into the teacher that I will become when I have a classroom of my own,  and my university supervisor.  His role was essentially to observe me (and grade my teaching ability) and make me jump through a million pointless hoops just because he could.  Which for the record is exactly what good teachers are not supposed to do.  My cooperating teacher taught me that. 

My university supervisor - from now on US - would also schedule the 'random' visits.  Not that I did anything differently, but if I was a mediocre teacher, I would have only pulled out the big guns when he was there.  He also would randomly walk into my classroom, turn around and walk out IN THE MIDDLE OF CLASS.  And I would have to run out of the room to figure out what the hell was going on, only to find out HE'D GONE INTO THE WRONG ROOM, WALKED ACCROSS THE FRONT OF THE CLASSROOM AND THEN NOTICED.  You can tell I think highly of him.  In fact, I'm not going to call him US, I'll just call him douche-waffle.

You may ask why I am writing about my student teaching in September when I graduated in May.  Well, I'm getting to that.  You see, I applied to a few school districts for a teaching position this year, but didn't hear back from any of them.  Then I went to apply for substitute teaching positions.  And reading the application a little closer than I had done in the past, I discovered at least one reason why: Since I do not have any teaching experience, they want to see a letter of recommendation from my cooperating teacher (who wrote me a very glowing one), and another from douche-waffle.

I emailed him shortly after graduation to get one.  When he didn't respond, I called him.  He said he hadn't been checking his email recently, but he'd get right on it, and send it out promptly.  This was in May. I got busy, and distracted, and never noticed that it hadn't appeared in the mail.  That part, I'll admit is Hubby's fault.  He didn't remind me.  Notice I'm not at fault.  Ever.

Anyways, in the middle of August, I picked up the application for substituting and suddenly remembered that I didn't have the letter.  I sent douche-waffle a very polite email requesting it, as well as a confirmation (via email or telephone) that he had received my email.  I don't think that's asking too much.  Then I got started back in retail, and I got busy.  I waited two weeks with no response, so I fired off another email - less polite than the first, but still very cordial.  This time explicitly insisting that I wanted confirmation of receipt.  Again, no response from douche-waffle. 

So last night, finally completely fed up - school was now back in session, there was no reason he hadn't returned my emails - I fired off a fourth email (I know that doesn't add up, but douche-waffle wanted me to send him an email with my mailing address, even though I had already done, when I talked to him in May). This email was still mostly cordial, but it was also incredibly passive aggressive.  Hubby was mildly horrified that I was sending an email like that to someone who potentially held my future in his hands, but whatever.  Finally, this morning I called him.  Actually, I called several faculty members before I found his number, because everywhere that it was listed online was different and they were all wrong.

Douche-waffle did not seem surprised to hear from me.  In fact, he excitedly told me that he was about half finished and was hoping to get it out in the mail tomorrow.  He's been working on it since May.  He even said so.  As soon as I got off the phone with him, I called Hubby.  When he picked up, I gave him a heart-attack by letting loose a ton of primal noises and yells, as well as quite a few words of a less-than-professional nature.

The man who holds my future in my hands has been working on my letter of recommendation since May, when I originally asked for it.  He never responded to any email where I requested a response. AND HE'S ONLY HALF-FINISHED.  He's essentially had an entire semester, and has done only half of the work.  That's a 50%, which is an 'F'.  Unless you go where I went.  They think that 'F's are demoralizing.  So they give 'E's.

Oh, and yes, I am aware that this is my second post this week, making it the third post this month!  Now I just need five more to equal June!  Whatever, just give me an 'E' for effort and move on.

What to Expect When You're Expecting (Gay Edition)

First off, for the record I'm not.  Nor is Hubby. At least that I know of.  And hope.  Because that would be an awkward conversation.  Also, this post was supposed to come immediately after my last one.  And I was extremely excited about having two posts in the same month for the first time in forever.  Then I realized that they would not be in the same month.  So I aimed for the same week.  Which also didn't happen.  But here it is.

Hubby and I have talked a lot about having kids sometime in the eventual future.  But there's one small issue.  See many married straight friends have voiced jealousy towards us in regards that we never have to worry about getting accidentally pregnant.  While that's nice, no matter how hard we try, we'll never be able to get pregnant on purpose. However, there are many possible alternatives.

Want a kid biologically your own?  Just have a drunken one-night stand with a woman.  If that's not your thing, there is always surrogates and in vitro fertilization.  However, using a seperate egg donar and a surrogate, you can pay up to $70,000 just to achieve fertilization.  Even at the priciest bar, you can expect a bar tab of only several hundred for two.  So suck it up and take one for the team.

Don't care if the kid is biologically related? That's fine too. There are many children not fortunate enough to have a loving family of their own here in the US. Also, adopted children can be had for little or not cost to you!  Now you just have to decide the age of kid you are looking to adopt.  Remember, the earlier before the teenage years, the more chances you have to love them before they become little (or not-so-little) rebellious shits.

Interested in adopting children not fortunate enough to live in the US? Madonna and Angelina have led the way in raising interest in adopting children internationally.  It is important to remember that you will have to visit where ever you are adopting from, so think of it as planning your next exotic vacation.  If you aren't interested in traveling there, don't bother adopting from there.  Obviously, you can try to accessorize with your children (ala Angelina), but I recommend avoiding this desire if possible.  Fashions change, and kids can't be swapped out as easily as your wardrobe.

Hopefully, this guide has helped you in your quest to become daddies.  I know there are countless resources out there to help make your decision, but you chose me.  No, I don't know what's wrong with you.  Seriously, something must be.

ADDENDUM: Hubby just reminded me about pets.  Many gay couples have pets that they call their children.  They give them people names and spoil them rotten.  While pets may serve as a surrogate of sorts, they are only for people too lazy to deal with actual responsibility.  Pets are great, but they are not substitutes for real children.  Any gay person that says otherwise is full of it.

Reports of my Death have Been Greatly Exaggerated

Yes, I know. my last post had death in the title.  And I am aware that it is merely a bastardization of the Mark Twain quote.  Don't care.  However, a few people have acted excited concerned when I mentioned recently on various social media sites that doctors want to cut me open and sell me for parts.  For those in the know, my life has entered a new phase of the VERY long and ongoing series of illnesses I've had.

Apparently, when I was a baby, I got a lot of ear infections.  When I was a kid, I had a lot of strep throats.  When I was a teenager, I would get debilitating sinus infections.  When I was at Virginia Tech, I had the Winter of Seven Monos, where the doctors kept insisting that I had mono, despite what the blood tests said (turns out, I had pneumonia, strep, bronchitis, an ear infection and tonsillitis - but, alas, no mono).

I've always known that I snored.  After living with Hubby, I discovered I had sleep apnea as well.  To be fair, I didn't discover this.  He did.  When I stopped breathing in my sleep.  Repeatedly.  This summer has been so bad that he's given up trying to put up with me at night.  It all started in the beginning of the year while I was student teaching.  In fact, I mentioned it on here back in May.  Since then, I've had three seperate sinus infections and a case of strep.

I finally went to see a scalpel-jockey specialist, who took one look and decided it all had to go.  Apparently tonsils are not in fact supposed to obstruct the throat.  Or be gargled.  In fact apparently in adults, they're barely noticable because they shrink.  Also, adenoids - which have no function in adults - are supposed to shrink away.  Not block the back of my sinus.  There are two little things (that aren't important enough to be described as anything other than little things) that do something to regulate airflow.  Those are also huge.  And despite the fact that my nose has never been broken, I have a deviated septum akin to a UFC fighter.  I got a second opinion, and they also wanted to gut me.

However, my crazy insurance, that covers most medical expenses in full, doesn't cover nasal surgery. At all.  Apparently people get nose jobs and call it nasal surgery.  They also only cover up to 50% of a procedure if multiple procedures are done 'from the same incision'.  I'm not sure what that means, although it was explained to me that they don't like it when doctors take people's appendix's out because the only function they serve is to occasionally try to kill you.  Also, considering a call from the doctor 'later this afternoon' was 6 days later, I'm not sure how long the HMO's '10 business days' will be to get approval for the hack and slash.

I figure its a good way to lose weight, and Hubby has been desperate to make more clever frozen treats.

Also, this helps explain the blahs.  I've never looked into the effects of sleep apnea, but apparently you sleep very poorly and feel really tired a lot.  Which has been me.  So I got depressed because I was feeling blah, and I got blahs from being depressed.  Huh.  How about that.

Oh, and the day that I found out I needed surgery plus a week off of work was my first day back at my old job.  Not teaching.  Which is also depressing. But oh well.