The Writing On The Wall

When I met Hubby, I fell in lust immediately. I then found out his friend was not gay (maybe an hour later), so I pursued Hubby. Quite successfully, I might add. We've now been together for over 9 years, and the journey we've taken has been amazing. At least once a visit, either Hubby or myself will make an announcement that will shock my family. Most often, the first response is 'why?'. Part of the problem is that I just don't know myself. Maybe I'm too close. Or maybe I just knew what I was getting into from the beginning.

We'd only been dating a week or so when we had our fist spat. I can't remember what it was, but I'm sure it was one of those little things that barely warrants an eye roll out of me these days. But Hubby got in broken down jeep that he was terrified to drive, and went to Walmart to buy me a stuffed panda bear that made sheep noises when you tilted it. I'll admit, it was cute, and we do still have it somewhere. But he never was able to explain why he, as a 19 year old, bought me, also 19, a stuffed baby panda bear. It's just the way he works.

Imagine my surprise a few months later, when walking around the Drillfield, he told me 'I think I want a motorcycle one day'. He's barely coordinated enough to walk and talk at the same time. And he won't drive my car because he's scared of the manual transmission. He knows how to drive, and does it very well. But he won't. When a coworker of his in Pennsylvania got a motorcycle (I guess 3-4 years ago now), that's all Hubby could talk about for weeks. 'P is saving this much on gas, and this much on car insurance' and 'if I had a motorcycle like P, I could....' To be fair, I always tuned those out, because he wasn't actually going to buy a motorcycle.

Then, another friend, A, told him that he should get a Vespa. That was maybe two years ago. He brought it up off and on until we discovered the move to Atlanta was happening. Then gradually became more 'on' than 'off'. Yesterday we got our motorcycle permits. In the next few weeks, I'm selling my darling Subaru Forrester, and taking on Hubby's Toyota Matrix just so that my darling can have the scooter that he's always wanted. Although he claims he's only wanted since January when he started actually going into the office at his new job.

My mom took the announcement that we were getting a scooter surprisingly well. Probably because of the announcement I'd made the last time I'd talked to them. My dad actually seemed excited about it, and was full of advice, but also gave a long version of the 'Don't Get Hurt' speech.

Anyone who knows us knows that Hubby is a hobbyist. He bakes all of our own bread and has maintained a sour dough culture now for several years. He decorates cakes. He crochets afghans. He gardens. And he is meticulous. For every single hobby that he has or wants, he has at least 3 google documents dedicated to that hobby. That I know of. And I know there are plenty that he won't share with me.

I have at least one Google Doc that contains only the animals that Hubby wants to keep as pets that are only found in zoos and circus acts. Like Elephants. And Tigers. As Pets. And he's closing in on 30. So my reaction shortly after we moved to Atlanta and our neighbors mentioned that they had chickens? 'Shit'. That's right, we're now raising chickens.

Again, I'm not surprised this happened. Several years ago, we were joking around with friends about preparations needed to prepare for the Zombie Apocalypse, when someone pointed out that we would be incapable of feeding ourselves if society crumbled, even if the zombies never made it to Central PA. If the grocery stores failed, we don't grow enough produce to support ourselves. Someone mentioned that chickens could easily be raised on a small plot of land. Hubby's eyes gleamed with excitement, and I knew right then that we would one day have chickens.

He'd managed to do a good job and keep it mostly hidden. He probably didn't even think we COULD keep chickens. Especially since we live in Atlanta. Not near. In. (but we've been over that). Turns out, we can have chickens if we live in Atlanta, but not if we live in unincorporated Dekalb County. Also, we're 'limited' to 25 chickens. We wanted four.

They are adorable, and will keep us overflowing with eggs in about 20 weeks. Until then, they get to use our guest room for the next 6-8 weeks (or possibly 4 if the weather holds out...that's when they should be fully feathered).

Internet Piracy is Bad. Internet Censorship is Worse

I know I'm a horrible person for not posting in forever.  I have a billion and a half excuses, but you won't believe them anyways.  The truth is I've been feeling very blah and uninspired.  There were a few times I started writing posts, but they were terrible, so I never posted them.  I even deleted them forever, so even if it was just my depression, it's too late now.  Who does depression hurt? You, bitches!

In reality I'm doing better-ish than I have been.  I'm currently off my meds, so my moods change violently by the minute.  But it's a dry-crazy.

So what have I been up to? Applying to every job conceivable and not getting any responses.  I had a few teaching interviews but they went nowhere.  I've been working as a tutor, but my only student moved to a school that didn't qualify for my services....and I still haven't been paid and I started in October.  Just before Christmas I was offered a job training volunteers for the Democratic Party of Georgia. However, it turns out that it was a trial to see how I would do doing door-to-door fundraising.  They didn't have me come back after the trial day.  Kinda depressing to be told that you can't even knock on doors and beg for money correctly.

I have had a few teaching interviews the last few weeks so *fingers crossed*.

What have I been doing in my free time, you ask? You stupid, stupid fool.  Yes, I am aware that insulting your readers is probably not the best idea, but you asked for it.  I cross-stitched for the first few months we were here...and I made REALLY good progress on that crazy project I shared.  I'm about 25% done if I remember right.  But then Hubby went and did something completely irrational.  He made me take a week off.  I haven't touched it since. I did an obscene amount of reading for the next month or two. Then something very strange happened.  I started writing.

Not this weird free-flow-where-I-try-to-be-witty-but-just-look-like-a-giant-ass-hat that I do here.  I mean like honest-to-God writing.  And it's been going really well.  Like I've written about 300 pages since November.  And I've put a lot of it online.  I'm very proud of it.  No, I'm not sharing it with everyone, but that's for a different reason.  If you're interested, contact me, and I'll think about it.  Until then, leave me alone!  It's actually been great because I've been talking with other writers from around the globe.  There's a long shot that you may have heard of a few of them, but they are quite good and it's been a very enjoyable way to pass the unemployment.

Which actually brings me around to what I wanted to write about today.  Internet piracy.  Stealing other people's work.  I've been told I should care more about it between my blog and my stories, and I do care.  Just not enough. I have spent countless hours writing and the last thing I want is for someone to steal my work and take credit for it.  It's not like I'm making any money off of it, and I'd be livid if someone else did.  I may some day, but that's another story. 

However bad piracy is, though, censorship is far worse.  SOPA and PIPA threaten the very existence of the internet as we know it. Long before Hubby has been around, the internet has always been the 'other woman' in my life, and she always will be. The internet is my passion and my creative outlet. It's always there for me and never once has it passed down judgment upon me.

It's the way I cope with the depression and mental issues that have plagued me most of my life, and it's the outlet I've found to express the creativity that I didn't even realize was buried within me.

Reminiscing

Just to warn you, I'm a little punch drunk after spending 13 hours over the past two days driving.

So I missed the big Virginia Tech game in Atlanta that I've been excited about since before we even found out that we were definitely moving there.  I did it to come up to my HS reunion.  It's actually a big deal for me to pass, but I know I'll get to see VT/Bama AND VT/GT in two years, so I can deal.  And I got to visit Blacksburg, which was fucking badass seeing people, none of which I've seen in like 4 years.  Which totally made it worth it.

So I spent 13 hours in the car, with a layover in Blacksburg yesterday.  Which meant I belted out a LOT of show tunes (stop judging me) and stuck in my mind.  Anyone who knows me well, then you should be afraid.  Very, very, very afraid.

It was actually not that bad.  I came to some revelations.

First off, I decided that next football season, I want the two USC's to play each other in a bowl game, and one blows out the other.  Because I want to see either of the following headlines: "Cocks stuff the Trojans", or "Trojans smother the Cocks".  Not all my thoughts can be winners, but I felt like sharing regardless.

I look back on high school, and don't have many bad memories unless I start thinking deeply.  I remember feeling alone and virtually friendless.  Now, based on photos and other forgotten memories that have resurfaced, I've realized that it wasn't actually the case.  I just spent a lot of time dealing with my own issues that I was relatively withdrawn to try to hide stuff I hadn't even had a chance to process myself.

I think it was somewhere in either 10th or 11th grade, I finally came to terms with the fact that I was attracted to men.  I refused to give up on the idea of liking women, and I kept trying put my feelings aside.  I'd pretty much fully come to terms with it when I started dating DG.  It just felt right, and the fact that we were never able to actually spend time together probably helped keep the relationship for more than a few days (sorry, DG, you know I still love you!)

My ability to deal with issues in my life became a lot better in college, when I was pledging my fraternity.  Don't sweat the small shit, and it's all small shit.  It's hard to remember that all the crap going on in your life is all 'small shit', but it really is.  And when you are actually able to put everything in perpsective, it's much easier to deal with.

I also realized that maybe I'd have had an easier time dealing with my own issues if there had been more stuff in pop culture about unconditional acceptance.  The "It Gets Better" campaign, the Trevor Project, in addition to a slew of big singles by popstars.  To be fair, TLC put out "Unpretty" in 1999, but I don't remember it as strongly as even Christina Agulera's "Beautiful", let alone Lady Gaga's "Born this Way" and Pink's "Fuckin' Perfect", both of which get crazy amounts of play on the radio.

Anyways, I'm actually kinda distracted while simultaneously realizing that maybe I should have my editor around when I decide I have a brilliant thought after 13 hours of driving.  Also,...actually, I don't think I had an also.  Maybe I did, but I'm done now.

Also, I'm really looking forward to the weekend, even if Hubby isn't by my side, so that I have some arm candy.  He's too busy proving how crazy smart and awesome he is.  And you may now call him Dr. Hubby.

Small Town Living in the Big City

Don't ask why I'm making a double post today (in fact, I literally just made the announcement on social media).  And for the record, I almost never actually go to facebook anymore.  I rely on the emails that get sent that 'so-and-so commented on your recent post' or ;you have a new message from so-and-so'.  These lame 'you have notification messages waiting for you' emails just don't do it for me.

Anyways, Atlanta is obviously a large city.  It has a population of about 484,000 people.  And then there is Druid Hills, Decatur (and North Decatur), and Scottdale, all within the Perimeter (the beltway to those from DC).  In fact, Atlanta Metro is about the same population as the DC Metro area.

However, it doesn't feel like we live in a large city.  In fact, it feels very similar to Central PA.  If you ignore the sounds of the police sirens and the traffic on I-20 (about 1/4 of a mile south of our house).  In fact, our neighborhood (Edgewood) has a population of only 5,000 people, so it's about the size of Bellefonte.  However, Edgewood is about 3/4 of a mile both North/South and East/West, ranging from I-20 to the MARTA line, and from Moreland Ave to our street...which seems a very strange and arbitrary boundary.

Like all major cities, Atlanta has interesting road quirks.  The most annoying one for finding your way through Downtown and Midtown is the enigma that is 'Peachtree St'.  There are 71 roads in Atlanta that use some variation of it.  In fact, There is a place where Peachtree Ave intersects E Peachtree St, which is two blocks off of Peachtree st.  Then there's the arbitrary road name changes.  When I drive to Decatur (which has been happening a lot in my job hunt, I take Howard Ave to College Ave.  There is no distinction, there's just a forced turn where Howard would have otherwise ran into the railroad tracks and MARTA line. At that same point, the road running parallel on the other side of the tracks becomes Howard Ave.  Not at an intersection, mind you.

When we were looking at houses, we looked at one on Boulevard SE.  That was the entire road name.  It was actually on a side-ramp, but that's not the point.  It was the best fit for what we wanted, other than the fact we couldn't quite figure out how we were supposed to get there, and there was a single-wide driveway to share with 2 other units.

Where Hosea L Williams Dr intersects Moreland Dr, it becomes Boulevard Dr.  Even though Boulevard Dr ends one block later.  When we first moved here, we figured that Hosea had to be a fairy major road (this was well before any exploration had been done).  Our rationale was that Atlanta is divided into quadrants, and we live in Southeast.  Houses on our road on the other side of Hosea are in NE.  Considering that Atlanta is already effectively divided into quadrants by I-20 and I-75/85, the interstates would make a more obvious selection, as would Memorial Dr, which is one block south of us, and runs the whole way through the city.

Interstate driving in the city is...interesting.  I've spent plenty of time driving in cities - I took my road test on I-66 and the Beltway.  During rush hour. I nearly killed us all, but I still got my license.  The Downtown Connector (where I-85 and I-75 combine) ranges from 8 to 12 lanes during the duration.  The official speed limits in some areas area as low as 40 mph.  The actual speed limits (regardless of time of day it seems):

• Right Most Lane: 0mph - this is a fun lane that is exit only, but reappears as the onramp.  It never moves because people are trying to get on or off the highway.
• 2nd Right Lane: 25mph
• 3rd Right Lane: 35 mph
• Middle Lane: 40 mph
• 2nd Left Lane: 75 mph
• Left Lane: 95+mph
• HOV Lane: 35mph - This is the most amusing to me.  There are no HOV exits, and you can only enter and exit the lane at certain points.  At which time, you have to book it across several lanes of traffic to make the exit 1/4 mile away.

However, the most interesting experience I've had on the roadway was not even on the interstate, but it was an expressway.  I saw a few sets of flashing lights ahead, so both I and the pickup in front of me began to slow down.  Then sirens came on behind me, and I relized I was about to be rear-ended by another cop.  Two more police cars sped down the left and right most lanes (I was going 75, so they must have been going over 90.  Then I noticed 3 cars going roughly the same speed into traffic in the right most lane.  Then I passed it.  And nearly wet my pants.

The cop speeding down the left lane veered sharply in front of the pickup in front of me, causing him to almost run off the road, with me close behind.  As we both managed to get around the car, I noticed the reason for the disruption.  A single car was surrounded by cops, guns drawn, two right up against the front windshield.  I have no idea what it was, but I think I'll be letting off the accelerator more often.  Just in case.

It Takes All Types

I'd apologize for not posting in forever, but that's nothing new.  Since moving to Atlanta, I've been hit with several waves of depression.  I'm still unemployed, despite the number of resumes and applications I've distributed.  I've even started applying to restaurants and retail positions, but with two college degrees, I'm so vastly overqualified that they're not interested.  And most restaurants in the area are looking for people with 3-5 years experience as a waiter.

It's not that gloomy, as I did just get hired as a tutor, but it'll probably only be for about 5 hours a week.

So I've spent the last three months cross-stitching, surfing the web, and watching Netflix.  Things have been going well for Hubby, but without any income on my end to offset the increase in the cost of living, our living situation can best be described as 'stressed'.  Largely because we can't afford to go out, and there are few excuses for either of us to ever leave the house.

Which actually segues quite nicely (for once) into today's topic.  Typically, I go out and do the grocery shopping, but a few times Hubby has taken the lead.  And every time, he comes home with the same comment: "I saw sooo many gay people at the store".  Which always surprises me.  Not because there aren't gay people.  We live about 2 miles east of downtown Atlanta, and about 2 miles west of Decatur.  Decatur is the 6th gayest city in the country based on census data, Druid Hills (about 2 miles north of us) is the 14th, Scottdale (about 4 miles east) is 21st, North Decatur is 24th, and Atlanta itself is 31st.  By comparison, Miami Beach, a veritable gay mecca, is 33rd.  The compilation I was using ignored any city less than 5,000 people, so Provincetown, Massachusetts - probably the gayest city in America - is not counted.

It's not that he says it that surprises me, but the way.  I keep trying to tell him that they can't make him gay, but he just brushes it off.  (I should stipulate that Hubby doesn't have a problem with gay people, just to make that clear, although the fact that he's married to a man might also make the same point).

I was thinking about that today, as I was approached by a bum outside of a gas station.  So far, I've only encountered two types of bums: the nice kind and the annoying kind.

The nice kind come up to you and just engage in light conversation.  They don't ask for money, although they might ask for a cigarette or for you to pour some soda in their drink container.  They'll mention that they haven't eaten in x number of days, but then move right along.  I actually enjoy the 2 minute conversations, and have even given a few a dollar or so.

Then you get the other kind.  At least around us, they don't ask for money explicitly.  In fact, they typically want you to go in to a store and buy something for me.  One asked me to go across the street and buy diapers for her baby because she didn't have the money to take the bus to the mall.  I didn't see the connection, nor did I buy her diapers.  She was hanging out in front of a gas station in 102° weather, so I did buy her a Gatorade.  Really it was just to get her to shut up and find someone else.

Overall, we are loving the diversity and opportunities that living in a major city provides us, just wish that we could take advantage of these opportunities.  However, Gay Pride is coming up in a few weeks, and Piedmont Park will be even more overrun with those of the homosexual persuasion than usual.  I'm looking forward to it.  And it's free.

Water, Water Everywhere

Ok....So I've been slacking off.  A lot. I was originally planning on posting once we got internet access from Comcast set up on the day after we moved down.  Of course the guy that showed up at 7am was an incompetent imbecile and we had to wait three more days for a new guy to hook us up.  When he had to call something in to finish the set up he was on hold.  For an hour.  And he's the Comcast rep.  That's seriously messed up.  Anyways, then I was going to post after a week.  Then 10 days.  Then 2 weeks.  Then 3 weeks.  Anyways, not you get an update.  Not a great update, but I'm a little rusty.  So sue me*

So far Atlanta has been incredible!!!  Hubby has been loving the severe thunderstorms that we get somewhat regularly (we got an inch of rain today starting around 5), and Zoe has apparently gotten used to it, asking to go for a walk in it.  To be fair, I didn't realize it was raining until I got outside, but it didn't bother her at all.  Also, it was less humid while raining than it was earlier in the day when I took her outside.

Hubby and I had a wonderful time experiencing the joy of big city bureaucracy when we went to set up our water utility.  We were told that even though we live in Atlanta, we had to set up our water through Dekalb County, because the vast majority of Atlanta is in Fulton County, so a lot of the part of the city in Dekalb receives their water from the county.  If you are confused, it's just as well.  The woman at Dekalb County water place told us that even they weren't completely sure which sections of Atlanta got their water from the city and which got it from Dekalb.

So anyways, we went to the county office and were quickly told that we got our water from the city of Atlanta.  So we had to go downtown and go from line to line in various city halls and annexes (annexi??) before we finally got everything straightened out.

That is until yesterday when we got a water bill for the previous tenant.

I have more stories, but I just have to find a way to bring it all together and present it.  So probably wont happen.  Fingers crossed though!

*please don't, I beg of you!

My Life in Boxes

It is official!!! Well, at least unofficially.  Our new landlords have accepted are application and after negotiations (where they countered their own counter-offer) we are all free-and-clear.  Except we haven't signed a lease.  But according to our wonderful agent, Z, has assured me that it is a done deal and we can start with the whole change of address thing.  We will be living on the eastern edge of the Edgewood neighborhood in Atlanta!!!!

The sides of the hill are covered in undergrowth now, but the grass is still really nice.  It's nice and shady, so the A/C won't work as hard as it would've had to with several of the houses we looked at.  Technically, it is a downgrade in space.  We're losing our dining room (aka computer room), but has three bedrooms - the smaller two are massive compared to our current second two.  The space is laid out much more sensibly, and even though the kitchen is a good bit smaller, it has more counterspace and storage!  For some reason, I only took one picture in the house (in my defense, it was house number 6 we saw that day), and Z was in the picture on accident, so I blurred her. We do not have a ghost. Yet.  Give Hubby a chance, and I'm sure he'll figure out a way to have a pet ghost.

I took this near the front door, so it is diagonally across the living room and into the kitchen.  It's a little small, but with a studio apartment walk-in closet in the master, the coat closet will be transformed into a giant pantry!!  Oh yeah, and we have TWO BATHROOMS NOW!!!!!!!11!!!1!!!

We're 1 mile away from a subway station, 1 mile away from the center of the Kirkwood neighborhood, 1 mile away from a massive big box shopping center, and apparently 1 mile away from one of the happening-est gay districts in the ATL! We are very excited.  BUT....

We still have to get there.  I've talked a lot about the when, where, and how issues of this move.  Fortunately, they are all addressed finally!  Where: We're moving to a cute ranch house in Edgewood.  How: We have a 26 foot truck on reserve from a branch of a self-move service.  When: That's the kicker.  We pick up the truck one-week from tomorrow!! We're desperately trying to pack up boxes, although I think we're pretty much done for the night at this point.  DVDs and about 2/3 of the books are all packed, as is half of our wardrobe.

We are getting a washer and dryer from friends here, then loading up the truck Sunday.  Monday, we're going to my parents' house, where we pick up more stuff, and spend a night.  Tuesday, we're going to Hubby's parents' house, where we pick up yet more stuff and spend another night.  Wednesday is the long-haul, with a 7 hour drive - one of us in a 26 foot truck, the other in a car with a dog and a cat who will both be going crazy.  We might stop and visit family in North Carolina as a rest stop, because they live about half-way between Hubby's parents' and our new place, but only to stretch and give the animals a little relaxation time.

We should get to Atlanta no later than 4pm or so, and we need to unload as much as possible on Wednesday, but the truck won't be due back until the next day, so we can spend a little extra time the next day unloading.

Our trip (which we also just came back from a few hours ago) was amazing! We had a wonderful - if not completely crazy time.  We got to explore a lot of the area near where we'll be living and have already tried out a few of the really cool eating places near our new place.  Hubby even found a really neat organic/vegetarian grocery store nearby that has a better selection and cheaper prices than the specialty store he's frequented here in Central PA.  We quickly noted that regardless of age, gender, and race, the unifying factor of employees and shoppers alike in the store was long, gray hair.

Sorry, I thought this post was going to be funnier than it turned out being, but I'm too tired to really care.  Also, hopefully this won't be the last time I post before we actually move, but it might be.  Maybe when I move in, I'll actually take pictures of the place so I can show it off!!!

Hey Y'all

Just trying that out...it's definitely a better contraction of 'you all' than the local "yu'ns" or "yi'ns". I'm not exactly sure where to put the apostrophe there, because spell-check counts "ya'll" as a word, but not the other two.

Anyways, no we haven't moved yet.  But we have some real and tangible details (well almost tangible). Last time I posted, I mentioned that we finally knew when we were moving, but not how or where. We now know for a fact that while the move will be paid for, we have to move ourselves.  Apparently the moving company that Hubby's new job uses laughed at him when he asked for a quote.  Something about not being able to arrange the logistics that quickly.  Welcome to our world.  Assholes. Geez, you'd think that they'd understand that I'm an internet celebrity and that they should do it for free in exchange for free publicity.  Regardless of their inconsiderate nature, we at least know now how.

I have been talking to a really nice realtor in the Atlanta area who sounds exactly like Paula Deen.  I was kinda disappointed when I saw her picture after we first talked and she looks nothing like her, but I can't really hold that against her.  We have narrowed our choices to a dozen or so places that look promising, but are just waiting to be able to see them before making a decision.  That's right.  Fitz and Hubby are going on a vacation! First one in five years.  Of course by vacation, I mean that we're going to a new city and being showed a ton of apartments in only a couple of days, but still! Usually when we get away, we visit parents, which is a vacation for no one.  And? We get a chauffeur! Well to see the places at least.

So Tuesday evening, we are driving to Baltimore and are staying with some friends....I am SOOOOOOO excited, because I haven't seen K or M for two years.  True, they're both lawyers, but I don't hold it against them.  Then, at the ass-crack of dawn, we're flying down to Atlanta (by way of Fort Lauderdale, Florida...what the fuck??), and spending the next 48 hours in the "Capital of the South", which Atlanta never was, but whatever.

Anyways, by the time we get back to the 'North' on Friday, we should have finally have the where.  Then we are finally set to actually pack up and move.  Now if you'll excuse me, I have to start prepping for tomorrow's excursion.  Both animals are going to the vet for check-ups and then I'm driving around for an hour or so to see how the cat does in the car.  Hopefully, all involved will survive.

Unpacking

Yes, you read the title right.  So does this mean that I am now living it up in the ATL? Nope.  You'll notice how long it's been since my last post when I confirmed that we were moving and moving quickly.  16 days.  Until Tuesday, we didn't even know things like Hubby's salary and benefits because the contract hadn't officially come.

If you'll remember two weeks ago, I said that we should have the official contract by the end of the week.  Well we didn't.  And no one could tells us why it hadn't come, but it'd be there by the end of the next week.  Rinse and repeat.  Turns out, like all good bureaucracies, there is only one person who is allowed to send out the contracts.  And that person? On vacation.

Anyways, Tuesday we got the contract.  Or rather Hubby's advisor got his.  Which is a start and allowed us to confirm what we already knew and commit fully to the move.  Only we didn't know exactly when the move would happen, or how we would get there, or where we would live.  You know, all the essential things you need to know for the move.

Today we confirmed when.  We'll be moving the second week of July.  Yes.  In a little under four weeks.  Nothings packed, no notices have been given, etc.  We know that the move will be paid for, but don't know if we'll be doing it ourselves, or if Hubby's new employers will move us.  Either way, it's time to clean house.

If you remember back a year ago, we went on a spree reducing our books, dvds, and video games.  Well, the dvds and games were sold on ebay, so there gone.  The books were sitting on the floor in what we call 'the other room'.  Meaning it's NEVER had a use.  Sure, it stores our router and printer, and the closet is overflowing with a ton of electronics, cables, and boxes that I don't even want to think about right now.  Also, by sitting? I mean spread out so that you could easily see every single book.

Notice I  used the past tense there? I finally boxed them up.  Today. Yes, today.  This weekend, they'll go to the local library, where they will be recycled, because no one will want to buy or even borrow them.  But at that point? Not my problem.  Also, the clothes that I mentioned had been sitting in a basket for two years? they were still there until today.  Along with a (I shit you not) ALMOST TWO CLOSETS' WORTH OF CLOTHES.  See, we knew that the move was coming so we did try to whittle down our clothes and get rid of things we didn't wear anymore.  We actually emptied one closet completely, and condensed down to 1 1/2 closets with virtually everything we own hung.  We also emptied out two drawers in our three dressers.  Considering I never got the keen fashion sense that was supposed to arrive in the mail when I got my 'Gay Card', there is NO REASON FOR ME TO OWN THIS MANY CLOTHES.

Anyways, I packed up all the clothes in trash bags to take to Goodwill this weekend.  TWELVE FRICKIN' TRASH BAGS. Are you kidding me? And yes, I went through it again, just to make sure.

When we first moved from to our current place, 4 years ago, we kept all the boxes.  Just in case we moved again, and would need to find boxes in a hurry.  Most of these are boxes that were shipped to the retail store I used to work at. Very beat up. But we kept them, because moving is expensive and I'm fine using crap boxes.  Although now we're either being moved, or being reimbursed. So I might as well get good boxes.  I also bought a grill when we moved here. And kept the box (full of trash) in the basement.  I was going to deal with it later.  Which was today.  Actually, I took an entire car's worth of boxes to the recycling drop off and got rid of them.

I feel very accomplished with my actions today.  I even contacted the landlady to terminate our lease.  Of course as of right now, that means that we're homeless at the end of July.

We now know when we will move, have a very good idea of how we will move, but still don't know where we will move to.  Considering that with our current time frame, they will not pay for us to house-hunt (not that Hubby can afford to take any days off of work before the move), we will probably be renting a house sight-unseen.  Fortunately, my parents are friends with a realtor in the DC region who is putting me in contact with some people in the Atlanta area.  And he knows the time frame we are looking at.  If possible, we might dip into savings for me to fly down and look at the top places we are considering.

And in case you were wondering, both animals are freaking the crap out.  They don't know what's happening.  Calvin at first thought it was fun, but he's now avoiding me, despite being offered treats.  Zoe just looks like she's about to die from misery.  And there's still a little under four weeks.

It's going to be an adventure.

On Unemployment

No, I'm not on unemployment.  Also? Happy random-double-post-day to you!

As the school year winds down, I'm reminded one of the major downsides to being a substitute teacher.  I'm paid only on days I work, unlike 'real' teachers, who are paid a salary for the school year, which is then divided up over 12 months.  But, since there is no demand for substitutes, I don't make any money in the summer.  However, since I don't work because there is no demand, I can't get unemployment.  Which means no money for me.  Which makes me a sad panda.  I'd get another job, but as you've probably surmised by  now, I'm moving to Atlanta, Georgia sometime this summer, so there's no point in finding summer employment.

However, I now have lots of free time to dedicate to hobbies.  Which I now have.  Besides television and video games.  Well, a hobby, but that's better than nothing.  When I was young, my mom taught me how to cross stitch.  And I started a few projects. I don't think I ever finished any, but I started a few. Then I didn't do another one for many years.  Then one year in college, I was shopping in a giant big-box retailer, when I found a panda cross stitch kit.  If you don't know, Hubby is obsessed with pandas.  As in last time we went to the National Zoo, I took 40 minutes of video while he took close to 200 pictures.  We were at the panda exhibit for over 2 hours.  I'm not even sure we spent two hours on the rest of the zoo.  Also, for the record, Zoo Atlanta has 3 pandas.  Hubby has already set money aside for an annual membership.  Anyways, I spent like 2 months working on that damn panda cross stitch (late at night, after all distractions had gone to bed studying).  Then I bought another kit to work on, and promptly stopped.  Then another.  And stopped.  Shortly after moving up here, I was miserable.  I had no friends, and I had no job.  Hubby bought me a giant light house cross stitch that I worked on for about 3 months off and on, and then put it aside for a few years.  Then I worked on it crazy for a summer.  Then stopped again.  It's about 1/4 done, and I want to keep working on it, but I have no real motivation.







And the point, you ask? I'm getting to it.  Chill.  Geez.  Then after telling Hubby that I didn't want anything for my birthday, which he stupidly took as I literally didn't want anything, not I wanted a gift, but didn't want to ask for anything. How thoughtless, right?  Anyways, he bought me a scroll frame and two new cross stitches.  The first of which (also a light house, but much smaller) I finished in about 3 weeks. 







The second one will probably take me about a month, but that's because I'm ramping up for my next big project.  More on that in a second.

While browsing the internet one day, I came across a cross stitch that someone had made of the Light World overworld map from Legend of Zelda: A Link to the Past.  And then I started to explore the site.  So I ended up making what I call a sampler that I pieced together myself (and I did it in exactly 4 weeks)







The only part that I had a pattern for was the words.  The rest I made myself.  I'm very proud of it.  Except Kirby.  He doesn't look quite right to me.  Anyways, I decided to make Hubby the Light World map to thank him for getting me back into the cross stitching.  Only then I discovered the Dark World map.  I decided that Hubby could choose which one he wanted.  He couldn't decide.  So I decided to make both.  Yes.  Both.  He then had the gall to ask if I could work in the game logo.  Or I asked if he wanted it.  I can't remember.  Either way, this is what it will eventually look like:

Oh, and that's not to scale compared to the other pictures.  It will actually be 14 inches wide and 28 inches long.  It's 77 colors and 119,724 stitches.  The instructions were 36 pages long when I printed them.  I bought the thread yesterday, and the fabric is being shipped.  I just have to finish my second birthday project first.

So I guess I'm a lot like my dear, sweet Hubby...as much as I bitch.  When he picks up a new hobby, he goes full-swing into it, and clearly, so do I.  Also, he enabled me, notice HE bought me the equipment.  Also, the lighthouse that's 6 years in development? Still not in the works.  It might be a while.

Out of the Frying Pan...

Ok.  It's official.  Well not really.  We haven't signed anything.  Or even seen the contract yet.  But it's supposed to be coming by the end of this week.  Granted it was supposed to arrive by the Friday two weeks ago.  But Hubby's advisor hasa very good idea what's in the contract (he was obviously in on the negotiations) and has passed on what we need to know.  There is still the possibility that the written contract will be different, but we are at 99.9% certainty.

I've lived in a major metropolitan area.  I've lived in a town with an amazing university that's part of the ACC athletic conference.  I've lived near large popular museums and amusement parks.  I've lived near some amazing and some mediocre professional teams...mostly mediocre.  And I've gotten to see and swim with sharks.  And I like to drink Coke. Now I get to do all at once. Well not simultaniously...although.... *enters catatonic euphoric state imagining the possibilities*

Ok, I'm back...now where was I....oh yeah, baiting you along...back to that.

This potential move has been very hush-hush for a multitude of reasons.  Hubby's advisor at the university is abandoning ship for a different one, potentially leaving starving grad students in a lurch.  We were horrifically burned by the city-that-shall-not-be-named (it rhymes with malmamurque) after I posted extensively about relocating there.  I was not originally planning on leaving all my (5) die-hard followers in the lurch for months - I was originally told 4-8 weeks.  Four months ago.  In fact my brother and sister-in-law (yay, I get to write that instead of fiancé!!) were apparently talking about us the other day and came to the conclusion that it must have fallen through, due to the lack of announcements from us.

I hate Pepsi.  Like HATE. Maybe it's the whole Joan Crawford thing...still don't get the draw of Mommy Dearest.  And I love Coke.  I've always lived in 'coke towns' before moving to central PA, where everything is all pepsi, all the time.  Probably because Aquafina gets a lot of it's water from the Spring in Bellefonte.  Check your bottles, if you have any.  They might very well say "Bellefonte, PA" or "Milesburg, PA".  I'm really not sure where I was going with this other than to continue to distract from my main point.

I've been bitching about the weather and heat here in PA, which is nothing compared to what we will have to endure in our new locale.  And my new-and-improved sinuses will get a workout with allergens (which are relatively mild here).

Anyways, here it is.  You may have already figured it out.  We're moving to Atlanta.  Yes, I've been bitching about the heat, and I'm going to be moving to Atlanta.  Hubby will be working for a major university there.  And both of us are forbidden from calling it 'Tech'.  It's a two-year post-doctoral position, so we might only be there for two years, but we are thinking about it as a permanent relocation.  Largely because it will allow me to lay some roots as a teacher.

Speaking of that, I've already submitted my application for a Georgia teaching license.  Over the course of the next several days I will be looking at specific school districts and begin to make contacts for jobs.

I don't know exactly when Hubby will start working down there, but he has yet to defend his doctoral-level research.  However, it appears as though we are in for a whirlwind move.  As in we may be there Permanently in about 2 months.  We. Not I.  Originally the plan (assuming Hubby got the position) was for me to move down during the summer so that I could begin to teach while he finished up his work here. However, as of 2pm today, I was informed that we would be moving down together.

We have already begun to go through all of our accumulated crap, separating out the clothes that no longer fit/aren't worn/are hideously ugly.  If you live in central PA, you may have an opportunity to load up on goodies that we no longer want/don't want to have to move. (not the clothes.  We'll donate those.)

Obviously, there's still more to come....I'll keep you updated, I swear!

UPDATED: I just realized that this is full of weird capitalizations and some of the sentences don't make any sense. Maybe I'll come back to it and fix it when I'm no longer feeling a buzz from the champagne, but I doubt it.  Pizza and Champagne: Celebration of Champions.

UPDATE 2: I have absolutely no idea why it's acting funky with comments.  The fields required to post a comment aren't even showing up for me.  Feel free to send them via facebook, twitter, email, or any other contact method (if you know them already)

I Swear I Had an Excuse...At One Point

Ok, so I know its only been like eleventy years since I last posted (or 3 months...one of the two).  But I was waiting to hear back on potential job news.  And waiting.  And waiting.  Anyone who knows all the details of our near-relocation to Albuquerque knows how badly we were burned there, and that we're trying to not do that again.  Every time I get some sort of inspiration to write about, I decided to wait a few more days and see how job stuff pans out.  Then I lost my inspiration. Rinse and repeat.

So am I writing today because I have news? Nope.  Of course not.  That'd be too awesome.

Actually, Hubby and I just got home from visiting my brother.  And his wife.  Only she wasn't when we got down there on Thursday.  His wife, that is. Yes, that's right.  My kid bro is now married.

There was  beautiful weather and everything was great. I'd post pictures, but there'd be no point, because I'd feel obligated to blur everything beyond recognition.

I think I had more inspiration earlier, but it's all left.  This is why I haven't posted in forever.  Also? Here's to hoping that I may have a real reason to post very soon.  Or I get my mojo back.  Either one.

This post is crap, and I know that, so I'm not even bothering to involve the editor.  Because he's already sleeping off the weekend.

This may be short. It hurts to talk.

Ok, chances are I lied. About this being short.  I don't know though.  Like usual, I've come to the conclusion that it's time to write a new post, but have yet to spend any real time thinking of clever things to write about.  As per usual.  This time I have an excuse though.  All of my funny was in my adenoids.  I swear.  Either that, or it's just a funny word.  heh.  Adenoids.  Oh, and it does hurt to talk.  Doesn't stop me though.  C'mon...are you really surprised?

To counteract my distinct lack of funny, I have been taking large quantities of opium mildly diluted morphine.  I think.  It tastes like puke but makes my whole body feel tingly.  I like.  It's also nice to actually have a reasonable explanation as to why my thoughts are disjointed at best, or (more likely) the deranged ravings of a lunatic.

Anyways, I had my surgery last Friday.  My plan was to be a man, suck it up, and go back to work Monday.  I realized that wasn't going to happen, so I planned on today.  But I still have an ouchey in my throat.  The biggest problem is that it hurts to swallow.  Imagine a really bad sore throat.  I've had that for 5 days now.  And it's been getting worse as the wounds heal.  And I haven't eaten anything solid since the surgery.  Honestly, if I still worked retail, I would have been back at work by Tuesday at the latest.  I just don't have the energy or the voice to deal with standing in front of a class for a whole day.  Even though I was called 15 times this morning (the latest was at 9:00am) I'm claiming that they miss me.  It's the only logical explanation.

I've been spending a lot of time watching netflix.  In fact, it's literally been my salvation.  Otherwise, I would have gone completely mad (or at least more so).  While I'm writing this, I'm multitasking. I'm also watching the first Superman movie.  Because I never got around to seeing it.  Hubby was incredulous until I pointed out the massive list of movies and music he had missed out on before me.  I'm also fighting an overwhelming desire to be unconscious.  Feel special that you are more important. Also, my friends have been invaluable for recommending 100s of hours worth of movies/tv shows for me to watch.  And watch I have been.

Last night, I went back and reread my blog.  Don't ask me why.  I don't even understand why you read it.  I realized that ever since Hubby did not get the job in Albuquerque, I have been promising that updates will be forthcoming.  I feel like I should finally go into some detail about why I've been blowing you off.

Hubby was originally supposed to finish up his PhD in December of 2009.  I was planning on pushing through my schooling so that I could finish then too.  Things got delayed, and he realized he wouldn't have graduated until May 2010.  So I relaxed my school schedule to accommodate.  Which I was more than happy to do.  Then, just before I began student teaching, he informed that - yet again - it was getting pushed back.  But, he swore to me that it would be no later than December.  And probably earlier than that.  Then the whole thing with Albuquerque broke.  And occupied about four months of our lives.  Only to fall through.  So imagine my surprise in October or so when Hubby told me that he would not be finishing before the end of the semester, but should be done by the beginning of the Spring semester.  By November, it had become the end of January.  By December, it was February or March.  Now? By the end of the semester ("at the latest").  This sounds like I'm calling shenanigans. For the record, I've never actually called it on someone.  And I kinda want to just to say that I have.  But I really do believe him.  Partially because I'm legally obligated to.  I think.  Maybe I should have read the fine print before agreeing to getting married.

Anyways, he's getting really close to finishing up his experimentation, and starting the hardcore writing push to get finished.  Which means that, once again, I get the task of nagging him about jobs.  That one I am legally obligated to.  I checked.  Of course my mom is the queen of nagging, so she may not have been the right person to ask, but I'm going with it.  Turns out, he has a guaranteed job here in State College, if he wants it.  And we've been assuming that it's a foregone conclusion that we'll be staying in the area.  BUT.  Hubby is continuing to keep his eyes and ears open for other opportunities.  And being the loving and caring practical husband, he knows enough to keep me happy when it comes to any relocation.  So basically, I just spent 2 paragraphs telling you that I'm not telling you about our future plans.  But I swear I will once I know what they are!

Anyways, I think I'm going to wrap it up here.  I need to disturb my editor at work, and possibly divide this into multiple posts (**drool**).  Of course, this may push back his graduation, but for your entertainment, it's a sacrifice I'm willing to make.  Oh, and for lunch, I think I'm going to be risky and upgrade from Ramen.  Campbell's Chicken Noodle Soup: here I come!!!

Just heard from the editor: It's fine, just more disjointed than usual.  Which he refuses to tell me if that's good or bad.  Apparently it's because there are so many short sentences. Or something.  Who cares. I'm posting anyways.  I'm sure there's a point in having an editor, but damned if I know what it is.

Reminiscing: Yet Another Thing I Should Not Be Allowed To Do Unsupervised

Being in schools every most some (sigh) days really brings back a lot of memories.  Not vividly or anything.  Just vague remembrances.  It also makes me take what I witness every most some days - both in the classroom and place that (using my perfect hindsight) into my own memories and gives me additional perspective. Remember how adults told you that you'd miss high school? "Enjoy it, it's the time of your lives." or "In ten years, you'll look back and only think about the good times".  I swear I had a better second one in my head.  I even used it today.  And I got the same look that I (and everyone I knew) always used as a response.  You know the one.  The one that clearly says "bullshit".

Yes, in high school it seemed that the world was going to end when you felt snubbed by a friend, or the cutie that you had a crush on talked to someone else, or you're significant other of two weeks broke up with you (even though what you had was true, pure love).  Now I feel like my world is going to end when I'm paying my bills.  Occasionally during one of our rare blow-up fights.  (We don't argue.  We both bottle it in until we're about to explode.  They're fairly epic, and a very healthy way to deal with any issues) But even then, not really.  I've come to realize that the majority of stresses can really wear you down, but they're not what defines your life. Oh, and I heard the last one while I was student teaching.  The girl had a new boyfriend that she was crazy about a week later.

I'm sure that I had my fair share of freak-outs in high school.  You feel a true sense of freedom for the first time in your young life, and can't wait to grow up.  I asked one of my former students today how he was liking his junior year.  Apparently, it was ok, but he was really just counting down the time until he graduated and could move on to college.  I gave the typical adult comment, and I got the typical indignant look back.  But it's true.

I don't remember a lot of day to day stuff from high school, but I remember hanging out with my friends in front of the library every day before school.  I remember some of my teachers, but others I can't even recall their faces.  I barely remember homework, and the ones I do remember were the ones that I epically procrastinated on and had to cram at the last minute to get it done.  But that's not a bad memory anymore.  In fact, I remember more of the off-the-wall IM chats I would have with friends doing the same thing. Yes children.  We had to talk on the internet.  or the home phone (I so desperately wanted one in my room.  I think my parents hated me, which is why they wouldn't pay to have a jack installed...and for my own line) We didn't have cell phones yet.  Let alone texting.  We did want beepers though. (which is another thing that I look back on and laugh).

In case you haven't figured it out (or didn't from the title) I really don't have a direction I'm taking this, so I'm sure that I'm even more off topic than I ever intended.  The real thing that sparked this post was on the way home, I was listening to my iPod in the car (which I can now, because I have an auxiliary input jack...yay!) and one of the songs that came on that was kinda the 2001 graduation type number from Eve 6.  Which I don't  think I've actually heard in about 6 years.  Even though it's on my iPod.

I don't talk to my friends from high school that much.  Especially since the one I talked to the most decided to abandon twitter.  Strange what having a kid that has figured out that one foot goes in front of the other, and having another one on the way, and planning a big move can do to a person.  Or she just wanted to simplify.  One of the two.  I do play some facebook games with several friends from high school. Yes, I am that lame, that I didn't say a facebook game, I said facebook games.  And occassionally comments back and forth on walls get posted.  Every once in a blue moon, We'll even message each other.  Part of it may just be that I'm bad at 'keeping in touch', but then again, didn't we all swear that we'd do that.  But I don't think that it's a problem.  I know, at least with my friends that we could hang out and reminisce, and it'd be kinda like old times.  Not really, because we've all grown a lot in our own ways. But nonetheless, it'd be familiar, and a good time. 

At DG's wedding a few years ago was the first time I'd seen several friends from high school in a few years, but we ended up hitting the bars, annoying the people at Taco Bell, and being the most obnoxious wedding guests. Ever.  We actually conquered the head table.  We were playing Risk, the home game, only at a wedding. Strategically conquering other tables whenever possible.  We won.  I don't think the other tables really knew what hit them.  Or cared.

Anyways, long story short (after the fact, thank you hindsight): Time moves on, painful memories fade, or transition into amusing anecdotes.  It's always fun to look back at the 'good old days' nostalgically.  Not that they were good then.  That's just how we remember them.  Good times.

And for the record, no.  I don't know why you bother to read this crap either.  But I do appreciate it!

It's Like Waiting For Christmas. Only Not.

Ok.  First off, I really need to stop having multiple posts in a row with similar titles.  Especially since I post infrequently. At best. End tangent (which began before the actual content.  Go me.)

I hope everyone had a good Chrismahannakwanzakah. (and new tangent: OH MY GOD!!!! I CAN'T BELIEVE I FINALLY FOUND THAT VIDEO...I'VE BEEN LOOKING FOR FOREVER).  I had a good one.  I got the tie clip I wanted.  Which made me a very happy panda.  And somewhat embarrassed that it was like getting the Red Rider bb gun you wanted, but never actually got.  Only it was a TIE CLIP.  But for me, the real celebration will come in February.

Back in May, I posted about my rash of symptoms from my sinus issues.  Then in September, I followed up by announcing that I was planning on going under the knife.  Then the whole thing became a nightmare. Like for real-real, not for play-play.

I visited the specialist on the first day my insurance through Hubby's university took effect for the year.  And I'd been told that it wouldn't be an issue.  And presumably it wouldn't have been.  It may still prove to not be one, but I'm not sure.  And it's six months later.  You see, the university takes insurance premiums out at the end of each month.  Starting in September.  Meaning that even though I'd been to the doctor in mid-August, it wouldn't be until the beginning of October before the insurance company would do anything.  Because my account wasn't paid.

This led to receiving multiple letters from the doctor's office demanding payment. Finally it was paid.  At the end of October.  And my doctor's balance went down by only $100 or so.  Because that little camera that was unceremoniously shoved up my nose for a whopping 35 seconds and used to determine the best course of action was classified by my insurance as surgery.  Which they don't cover.  They would if it had been officially ordered by my PCP, which he did.  But that was before the annual insurance switch-over.  I think.  It gets confusing.

Finally, the last week of October, I get the results from the letter of pre-determination that the doctor sent my insurance.  They would cover having my tonsils and adenoids removed, but not having the little doodads fixed (the only procedure that is so quick and basic that they don't even bother putting people under for) or having my septum fixed.  Because those are sinus surgery.  But having my adenoids out (which - at least for me - literally fill my sinuses) was covered.  I'm really not complaining.

I appealed in mid-November.  But they hadn't come to a determination by mid-December, which is the last time I talked to them.  After getting the first letter back from the insurance, I called the specialist to make an appointment.  I figured let's see how necessary he thought the two denied proceedures were (hence why I waited a while to file my appeal) and how much they would cost if I opted to just pay out of pocket.  He couldn't see me until the last week of November (this was late October).  A week before my appointment, the secretary called to inform me that the appointment had been rescheduled for mid-December.  I went in, the appointment lasted five-minutes, I was feeling good about what he had to say, and I walked out with an appointment scheduled for January 7.

I'm sure you're now thoroughly confused.  Because clearly if I'd been hack-and-slashed I'd have been bitching about it here. And on Facebook. And on Twitter. And and via any and every other form of communication I could think of.  I may have even brought the telegraph back out of retirement for that one.  Fortunately, (although extremely frustratingly) the doctor's office had an issue notifying my insurance about my scheduled surgery.  As in the insurance informed them that they had no record of me.  After a very long and confusing call to the insurance company, it was determined that the doctor was notifying the regular insurance, not the student insurance.  Despite what the very-nice-but-not-entirely-with-it secretary told me.  They also informed me that there was an issue with January surgery.  My insurance ended December 31.  Also? My insurance doesn't require advanced notification for surgery.

After calling every answering machine at the university insurance office, I finally managed to reach someone.  Actually the head of the department.  Because she is married to one of my former coworkers.  So I just called him.  Turns out, re-enrollment is automatic and there is no lapse in coverage.  BUT the insurance information isn't sent to the company until January 18.  The deadline for new enrollment.  And the first payment isn't until the end of the month.  Which would have led to the exact same issues with insurance I had back in August.  But at least then they had knowledge that I was covered by their insurance, just not paying my bill yet.

Long story short, I simply rescheduled the surgery and have gotten comfy on the spare bed.  But the countdown is on: 24 more days until surgery!!!!! Then a week or so for recovery, and I'll be able to breathe.

Oh, and all this shit just for surgery that is officially blocked for an hour of time.  But I've been told it probably wont even be 30 minutes.

And I realize that this post is kinda whiny and no one really cares and is sick of hearing about my sinus issues.  But this is my blog, and I pay for the domain.  So when you're in my domain, you do as I say.  Ok.  Maybe I need to take a nap.  Stupid not-getting-restful-sleep-for-24-more-days.

Oh, and for the record: my New Year's resolutions? To post on here more frequently.  Fail.

Bah Humbug and Merry Christmas

I've always loved Christmas.  It's never been as fun for me as Halloween, which is all about indulgences and excess (and just so much wackiness ensues at any age).  As I've grown up, my reasons for loving Christmas have changed drastically.

When I was a kid, I was always about the toys (of course).  This year, my list was actually shorter than my mom's, which is really crazy.  I asked for two gifts - Trivial Pursuit (because I'm a geek) and a tie clip.  Seriously.  I asked for a tie clip.  In the world of practical gifts that people need and don't ask for, that ranks just below socks.  and I asked for it.  Granted, I was specific in that I wanted it to be silver in color, but that's only because my wedding ring is white gold, and all my belt buckles are silver.

But even with everything, I haven't really been feeling Christmas this year.  I guess it's because this is the time of year to look back and reflect on the past year.  And overall, it's been an amazing year.  I finished up my second college degree, graduating with honors,  I'm now getting paid to do exactly what I want to do (well...almost), and I'm now legally married to the love of my life.  On top of all that, Hubby has ALMOST finished his PhD, and we're getting close to the next chapter of our lives, and I couldn't be more excited.

I should take a moment to point out that when I say I love Christmas, I really mean it.  I love buying gifts for friends and family.  Usually, they are ones that they ask for, but it's always something that really means something either to them or to me.  We usually spend about $100 or so on each other (I'm not going to miss the college student budgets) and around $50 for friends and family.  Granted, most friends do not actually get gifts, but that's more due to the lack of funds.  And I've never understood the point of buying a gift just because you are supposed to.  Buying things for people out of obligation ruins the spirit of the season to me.

This year, one of the people that has (unknowingly) been a major inspiration to me as a budding blogger has been Jenny, the Bloggess.  Her wit and willingness to say and do the most inappropriate things at the most inappropriate moment never ceases to bring a little light to my soul.  This year, she took it upon herself to give back to people in need.  What started out as giving out $600 ballooned to a major project where $42,000 was given to people in need.

I am a huge sap for stories of generosity, specifically during Christmas.  So I would read the stories from people who needed a little extra help to provide the Christmas that their families deserved.  I decided upon reading it that I would donate and help out such a worthy cause.  And then I checked our finances.

We had already planned on an extremely low-key Christmas.  We wanted to focus more on savings than anything.  Plus, I was unemployed starting in January while I did my student teaching.  I didn't go back to work until August, and that was for a fraction of what I had been making before I left.  We decided to make our own gifts for people to save money, and we wouldn't buy each other gifts at all.  However, that's just not how I roll.  But I could suck it up, because bills were tough this past month.  Then Hubby threw me for a loop.

I can't remember if I ever blogged about it, but back in June, Hubby went to a conference in Prague.  He got me the two things I asked for - absinthe and Toblerone - a giant bar that I just finished the other day.  Turns out, he also got my a couple of Christmas gifts.  So here I am on Christmas Eve feeling like a failure.  My husband, my family and my friends all deserve so much more this year than I am able to provide, especially after being able to share such a wonderful year with all of them.  So what am I doing?  I'm wrapping a few things we already own while Hubby is at church with his family so that he has something to open tomorrow morning from me.

Things are not anywhere near the point where we need assistance of any sort.  I know this post makes it sound like we do.  It just means that we've had to cut out a lot of the frills temporarily.  And unfortunately, gifts fall into that category.

In a very long and convoluted way, this post is essentially a love letter from me to my family and friends, and most of all to my wonderful husband.  Think of this as the gift that all of you should have received from me.  I know it's not much, but it's all I can give at the moment.

NOTE: For the record, I did consider asking for assistance during the Bloggess's drive, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. It all boils down to we're not badly off, and there are many, many people worse off than we are.  We've had a rough month in terms of bills, but we have lots of savings and things are only going to be getting better in the next several months.  But it's called savings, and not spendings, so that money doesn't get applied to the "I wish we could...'s", only the "We really need...'s".

UPDATE: I just realized that now I have to prevent Hubby from reading this post until tomorrow morning, and he checks his blogs fairly regularly.  This'll prove interesting.

I Don't Know How I Feel About That

Working as a substitute teacher in multiple school districts has been an eye-opening experience.  Not only do expectations differ drastically from district to district, but even two schools in the same district have expectations that are dissonant.  Some days I walk in with a detailed lesson plan for a subject I do not know, and I'm expected to teach it.  Sometimes, even the administration can't find the teacher's lesson plan (that was turned in to the office).  Most of the time, I'm given everything I need to figure it out as I go.  And it's always enjoyable - even when it seems like being swallowed by the earth would be better.  Suck it, large unnamed retail store that formerly used a smiley!

I also get to have interesting experiences that a 'normal' teacher doesn't get to experience.  Last Friday? I was a secretary in the guidance office for the day.  Did you know that 'permanent records' are not just an idle threat? I got to put this year's school pictures with the files.  Kinda cool.  Also makes me kinda want to torch my high school in order to destroy them.  Then I remember that I was a goodie-two-shoes in high school.  So I guess the school can live to see another day.  You got lucky this time.

Today? I was a librarian.  Like for real.  My title was 'secondary librarian'.  Turns out the person that I thought was the main librarian? My secretary.  Yes.  I had a secretary.  And at least 3 student aides each period.  I crap you not.  It was BADASS.  Except there was one issue that I had.

Ever since the string of suicides by gay teens, schools have been cracking down on bullying.  In all forms.  And the mentality of "boys will be boys" does not seem to be acceptable by administration any longer.  I had a coteacher one day who stopped the class and went on a diatribe about how to treat other people after hearing a student tell another to 'shut up'.  I was impressed.  And glad that she showed up after I told the entire class to do the same.

Anyways, back to today.  The school library had a very good selection of books on sexuality, sexual orientations, and the like.  They also had a book called "Pornography".  The pictures were not.  I was kinda disappointed, and I'm not sure why.  Anyways, all of these books, along with books on the occult (yes, really) mental health, rape, abuse, etc. books were behind the circulation desks in the 'reserved' section.  The extremely popular books, such as Twilight and Harry Potter were also in the reserved section to keep track of them.  There are no restrictions on checking them out, so I asked why the resource books are back there.

Turns out, it's because students would find them in the regular stacks and would get disruptive.  So any books that have questionable titles or content that could prove disruptive (such as 'Pornography', 'Rape', and 'Abortion') were put behind the desk.  Any student has access to them as long as they ask the librarian to look at them.  I understand why virtually all of these titles were located where they were.  Except for one issue.  And you may have figured it out already.

A student who is questioning his or her sexual orientation, and looking for resources to help them is not going to feel comfortable asking the librarian to look at the gay resources section.  Of course, to be fair, teenagers don't use books anymore, thanks to my first true love.  The Internet.  You'll always be first.  And I'll try to be faithful and never commit letters onto paper.  It just makes me feel dirty.

Ok...I think I lost the serious point somewhere along the way, but isn't the point of having resources available for students is for them to feel comfortable using them?  If you are questioning (and obviously deep in the closet) you are not going to ask the librarian.  You'll walk past it on the shelf like 14 times, then pick it up, flip through really quick, and put it back before anyone notices.  Then get the courage to sneak it up to the desk to check it out.  By placing it between two more 'appropriate' books.  And hope the librarian doesn't look at the book titles.

Not like I've ever done that.

Crap...I Don't Even Have a Title!

I'll be completely honest.  I really don't know what I'm going to write.  I just know that I basically promised to post two (or more) times a week in my last couple posts, and implied that I'd be trying to post every day.  That was 22 days ago.  I fail.  So to compensate, you (meaning the anonymous people who use google reader, since that doesn't show up on my stat counter, as no one else apparently bothers to read my blog) get the wonderful gift of free-style prose courtesy of me.  In otherwords, this might be a good time to stop reading.

You have been warned.

Ok.  Let me go all the way back to Thanksgiving.  We spent a few days at Hubby's parents' and then went to mine for a few days.  At Hubby's, we went to a movie, and were given money to go out to eat every night.  The only time there was really any 'family time' was when we dragged his mother to the store with us.  Which was a mistake in the guilt-trip sense.  Pretty much anything we looked at, she offered to buy for us.  When I pointed out a few potential Christmas gifts for hubby (while he was standing there) she just put them in the cart, and gave them to us when we got back to the house.  We saw Unstoppable.  Not a horrific movie, although I will say that the small town that they show (looks like Altoona or maybe Tyrone PA) apparently had a population of 754,000 people.  Which would make it the 17th largest city in the country.  That was the one thing I just couldn't let go.  I can ignore just about any ridiculous claim made in an action movie.  The bus in Speed could TOTALLY make that jump.  Just not a real bus, because that'd be crazy.

Anyways, back on point.  ish.  So we went to my parents.  Just north of Charlottesville, VA (like quite literally the first shopping center after you leave Charlottesville) we've always stopped at an Arby's.  We go to pull in, but the Arby's sign is gone, but there is sign saying that it's open.  When I say the sign is gone, I mean you can see the outline of the old sign, and there was no replacement sign.  There were about 30 giant American flag banners in the parking lot.  Turns out, it is now 'The Patriot Place' and serves subs and fried chicken.  It wasn't bad.  Although even inside, they only bothered to cover up the Arby's logos.  They didn't even bother to take off the plaques on the wall near the bathroom.  They just put American flag stickers over the spot where the plaque said Arby's.  Yeah, it was quality.

Oh yeah, my parents.  Shut up.  I'm getting there.  We did a Turkey Trot on Thanksgiving Day.  At like 5am.  In the rain.  Ok, it was actually light out and it stopped raining long enough for the trot, but that's not the point.  I didn't actually trot.  Hubby did, along with my brother and his fiancé.  My lazy ass decided to do the 2k walk instead of the 5k run.  I did get to take the dog with me, which was nice.  Growing up in the area, I knew there were a few people's houses that I walked by that deserved a bag of dog poo, which I happened to have.  The only problem was that I didn't know exactly which houses I needed to leave them at.  I decided to err on the side of caution and just leave bags at all the houses.  But the dog wouldn't cooperate.  It's kinda embarrassing to sit there begging/yelling at your dog to poop while hundreds of people walk by staring at you.  I just wanted to cover my bases.  Is that so wrong?  Oh, and I beat a guy on crutches that started around the same time as me.  By like 2 minutes.  Go me.

I'd tell you about the rest of Thanksgiving, it was great.  Just not anything crazy.  No fights, or fires.  In other words, nothing fun.  Oh well.  Friday night, we decided to play Trivial Pursuit with my parents on one team, Hubby and I on another, and my bro and his fiance on the third.  We couldn't even agree on what color to be.  It was one of those nights.  But, between the five of us that were drinking, we went through approximately 17 bottles of wine.  Or 4.  One of the two.  I can't remember.  One of the questions, and I was later informed that it was also brought up in the movie Beaches, was 'what did Otto Titzling invent'.  It took my brother like 5 tries to even read the question.  There's something about saying 'tit' in front of your parents.  When he finally got the question out, we all just died laughing.  It was probably the wine.  We didn't even get a chance to guess, because among the raucusness that followed the question, my mom blurted out 'the bra'.  She was right.  A guy named 'tit-sling' invented the bra. Wow.

I'm think I'm going to stop here.  Mostly because I don't know how to segue into anything new.  Because I've been all about the seamless transitions this post.  Whatever.  I did warn you.

Cheaters Win

Today I was surfing the web while on a free period.  I found an article on the Washington Post that I proceeded to tweet, so you may have already read it.  If not, I'm nice enough to post it again here.  West Potomac High School in Fairfax County Public Schools has decided to allow students caught cheating on a test to retake the test.

I understand the intention behind allowing these students to retake a test.  I really do.  Grades are supposed to reflect academic achievement and not student behavior.  For example, a student who is frequently absent from school cannot be punished academically simply for being absent.  However, their repeated absences will hurt them in that they do not have the opportunities to learn the material in the classroom at the same pace as the rest of the students and therefore will not retain the information as well as if they had been present.

Additionally, students shouldn't be given extra credit or have points taken away based solely on their behavior.  A student who does the assignment but goofs off should still get full points for the assignment.  However, they may still be punished for their behavior by other means - separating the student, giving him detention, etc.

Some schools punish behavior through academic reprimand with good intentions.  One local school district requires that a student who skips one class period get a zero in all assignments for the day.  I disagree with that because if they perform well in my class, and show that they have the content mastery that I expect, then they should be rewarded academically.  I'm torn even when it comes to skipping my class.  Giving them a zero does not show what they know academically.  And regardless of that demonstration, they would still face behavioral reprimand for skipping my class.  However, they knowingly skipped a graded assignment, so it does demonstrate a wanton willingness to violate the rules.  But I really am torn, because it doesn't show me what they know.  And as an educator, that's what I'm most concerned with.

However, when it comes to cheating, I have zero tolerance.  Yes, it is a behavioral offense.  At the same time, they know that cheating is wrong.  They may not have showed what they knew regarding the content, but they did show that they felt like they didn't know enough.  And the only way that they thought that they could receive a decent grade on the assignment was by copying answers from someone else.  Maybe the real solution is not to give them zeros for cheating.  Instead they should receive the grade the grade they 'earned' on the test - or a high failing grade (whichever is lower).  They most definitely should still face the consequences for the behavior.  But allowing them to retake the exam  in question (under heavy supervision) does not teach them that cheating is completely unacceptable.  In the real world, it would get their ass fired in a heartbeat if they were caught.

Unlike me, and most of my friends in high school, a lot of students are not grade motivated.  They really don't care what grade they get.  That means that they don't care about a retake.  If they're stupid enough to cheat, they'll be pissed that they got caught, but won't bother to try to study to improve their chances at a good grade for the retake.

I always bend over backwards to help all of my students succeed.  However, the ones that came to any review sessions I held before tests were always the ones that didn't need it.  Sometimes, it was a confidence issue, but mostly these were the students that were grade motivated, and wanted to ensure that they got A's instead of B's.  And that's fine.  However, I base my classroom on respect, and a student who is willing to cheat, copy, or plagiarize will not get any from me.

I really do apologize for this post not really being humorous. I just couldn't believe that a school would bend that far to ensure that no student is 'left behind', when it truly is the direct result of the lack or responsibility on the part of the student that is to blame. And that's two posts in two days.  Maybe I can still complete NoBloPoMo. Nah...too much work.

Why I Hate Everyone

I've been meaning to post for a long time.  A very long time. Like for real.  Only problem? I'm easily distracted.  As in I'm trying to not do the 4 google searches that popped in my head in the last minute...only because if I do this will never get done.  And I procrastinate like it's going out of fashion.  Of course, I wouldn't know...I'm too busy not doing anything.

My life has been pretty hectic recently, the past few weeks, in the over-a-month since I last posted.  This sounds like a job for....*duh duh duh daaaaaah*...Bullet lists!

In no particular order (especially because I don't remember what happened when...it's been far too long)

• I quit my crappy retail job after only being back there for 2 months
• I went to see a stage version of Rocky Horror
• I have been substitute teaching full time - some as far away as 50 miles (ugh)
• I learned how (and how not) to thaw a turkey
• We've actually had people over to be social (tonight will make two times in a week)
• I really thought this would be a longer list
• It's kinda depressing, actually
• I'll just add a few more bullets to make it seem longer
• There, that should do it
• Maybe one more for good measure

As you can see from all the bullets (but not the contents) that I have been quite busy.  For the record, I'm working on this post while attempting to deep-fry a turkey.  Hubby's office decided to have a thanksgiving potluck, and we're hosting it.  And we spent so much money at the grocery store that they gave us a free turkey out of the goodness of their hearts to force us to drop even more money there in a desperate attempt to save 90 cents a pound.  If you've ever deep-fried a turkey before, you'll know that they need to be watched fairly closely.  Which is why i'm resting the laptop on my lap while sitting outside next to the fryer.  There's no way this can end badly, right?  I should also include that the entire house is made of wood including very old wood siding, and directly above where I'm frying the turkey is a wood balcony.  But if something goes awry, I'll have plenty of time to carefully set my laptop down before escaping the massive inferno that would be my house.

Now that I've explained what I've been doing and what I am doing literally at this moment, I'm moving on to an almost-unrelated topic.  It's still related because it's still about me.

As most loyal followers know, Hubby's graduation from grad school is imminent. Unless something changes, which is still possible. I think.  He doesn't like to give me concrete answers about his progress, So honestly, you are not as far out of the loop as you'd expect to be.  However, we are fairly certain that his post-graduation plans are set.  We are waiting to make sure, because last time, I continually blogged about them, only to have to eat my words. Yes, I'm talking to you Albuquerque.  I gave my laptop a death glare.  Which told the city halfway across the country that I mean business.  I'm sure it got that message.

I've also been substitute teaching full time.  Teaching can be incredibly frustrating. Especially Social Studies.  These student's do not have any social studies classes until 7th grade.  I really did want to hit something (like the blackboard, which I'm pretty sure I did) when I asked my students what the three axis powers of World War II was and someone said 'Mexico'.  Teaching can also be tedious and repetitive.  Don't get me wrong, impatient me is totally able to deal with it in the classroom.  However, substitute teachers have the easiest and boringest (screw you, English teachers!) job.  You show up, and you have a detailed lesson plan waiting for you.  Of course you report well before the students actually show up, so you get to sit around aimlessly for a while, first. You implement the lesson.  Which is usually a video or a handout.  You have nothing to do during the period except try to get the kids to do it, which they wont, because you're not the teacher.  Then you have a planning period.  You don't have to plan anything, since you're not the real teacher.  And then you have to sit around after school ends until your shift ends.  High school: about 10-15 minutes.  Elementary school: like an hour.  And then you teach things like band, where I pressed play twice on a DVD player.  That was my entire day. Seriously.

Also: I'm going to try to incorporate the weekly writer's workshop from Mama's Losin' It.  It seems like a good way to actually post every week.  Plus I'm not doing anything else during the day.  Unless the website is blocked at school.  Like all the good ones are.  Which really sucks when you're bored.

Oh, and for the record, I lied.  I don't hate everyone. Or really anyone for that matter.  Unless I don't like you.  Then I'll arbitrarily claim to hate you.  But don't take it personally.  Because I hate everyone.

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