Lemming

I broke down and bought Harry Potter 7. I was pretty convined I'd just wait until I could get it in paperback. Or perhaps I would borrow it from one of the three million people I know who bought it in hardback.

Last night, I was out and, anticipating my trip home on the T, desperate for something to read. I hate having nothing to do on the T. I always have to have a book with me. When I'm done reading everything in my apartment, I'm beside myself.

Anyway, I went into Borders, and they were about to close. Too much pessure to pick something out. There were tables full of Harry Potter on display, so I bougt it.

I'm not very far into it, so please don't spoil it for me if you've read it.

I'm just wondering, though, if these characters are all magical, why they can't solve some seemingly mundane problems with a little flick of the wand.

For example, the most recent book reveals that Dumbledore, as a young man, lost both parents and had to act as a foster parent to his younger siblings. He was unable, as a consequence, to take a trip around the world with one of his friends. There simply wasn't enough money. Now, this is a man who can "appirate" (wish himself in another destination and simply appear there.) So, why would he need to worry about air fare? Why would he simply not materialize in his desired location? I would if I could.

Then, there is the enormous Hagrid who, in the most recent book, spends at least 4 pages struggling to get through a small door. Ah.....why not just exapand the doorway with a flick of the wand?

There are lots of such conundrums that the characters should, in theory, be able to get themselves out of.

I know, I'm thinking too much about Harry Potter.

I've gotta let it go.

What UP?

I just returned from a three-hour in-store training on the Apple iPhone. The thing is cool, no doubt, and there are tons of things I have yet to learn about it, but still, a Sunday evening spent in this meeting was far from my ideal vision of how to tie up a weekend. Granted, I did not have to work at all this weekend, but it sucked having to get to the store at 7:00 PM on a Sunday night. Not getting out of there until 10 PM was even worse.

But I will say that the people I work with at the Apple Store are awesome. They are, as I've said before, all about 12 years old, so when work's over we have nothing in common. But while we're working together on the sales floor, we have a few laughs.

I really have to get my ass in there and fiddle around with those iPhones and figure out how to use them. Customers have so many questions about them. If they are simple questions about how to use features, I can pull the information out of seemingly common-sensical use of the phone. For example, if somebody wants to know how to use Google maps or visual voice mail or something, I can take them to the iPhone bay and encourage them to pick up a demo iPhone while I talk them through the demonstration. Usually I'm peering over their shoulder while they use the phone, navigating them through the application, and hoping that whatever I'm telling them to do will work.

Thank God the thing is pretty user-friendly. But the managers told us today that they fully support people clocking in early or staying late to fiddle around with products and learn how to use them. I think I'll clock in a few hours for that in the upcoming week.





Anyway, I was having some pretty annoying and persistant foot pain, so I went to see my doctor. He sent me to the foot guy who diagnosed me with plantar fasciitis. He gave me a splint thing to wear to bed and demanded that I got out and buy a pair of Dansko clogs, calling them the "gold standard" of footwear.

I love Dansko clogs, so I viewed this as a "medically necessary" shopping spree. Danskos ain't cheap.



These are the shoes I got. They didn't have the traditional clogs in my size, and besides, they looked a little un-summery for the time of year. These ones, pictured above, will be great for the rest of summer and into Fall. Hell, even in winter, they will be fine with socks.

Hey, I'm exhausted. Gotta run.

"Beer Comes the Bride."

Fwiz sent me her photos of the wedding. I know I've promised to post some of my professional photos, but since I am not yet in possession of those, I figured I'd tide you over with this lovely shot.

Obviously the institution of marriage has not contributed to a heightened sense of maturity.

Mac is Back!

Thank god. My Mac is Back! The geniuses at the Apple Store fixed my baby.

Of course, that said, I am now doing hours worth of tedius work of backing up my files onto CDs before I do another thing.

Hey, where the hell is Laurita's blog?

Technical Difficulties....Please Stand By

We are back from the honeymoon. A lovely time was had by all. I say all because throughout the honeymoon, we had the opportunity to see various friends at various stopovers. I am particularly excited about having had the opportunity to catch up with the fabulous David and Todd while in Middlebury, VT. David and Todd were fellow "Ecole Francaise" students during "la belle epoque Middleburienne" and it was such a pleasure to hang out with those guys in our natural environs.

I am still waiting on the official photos from our photographer, so hold on to your hats and those will soon be coming at you.

As for the title of this post....

We had an unfortunate Mac incident yesterday. During a standard, run-of-the mill internet surfing session, the computer just sort of went blank and then offered us a message in about 1,000 languages, indicating that we should restart the machine.

This we did.

About 900 times.

To no avail.

I spent over 3 hours on the phone with the guys at Apple yesterday (thank Christ I have my Apple Care plan) and we ran every single diagnostic from A to Z that you can imagine. If you're like me, you can't even begin to imagine what a computer diagnostic is, but let me tell you, there are a plethora of them. Most of them involved holding about 67 keys down simultaneously while starting up the computer. This made me think that with technology being so prominent in today's society, and the uncanny ability of the human being to adapt to the world around us, we will likely evolve into multiple-handed beings soon enough. I had to have Stephen help me out to perform most of these digital-gymnastic tasks. This is a total of 4 hands and 20 fingers, and we were still contorted like champion Twister players.

Anyway, one of the last things I tried to do was to reinstall the entire operating system. It froze midway through the process, and that is where we decided I would be best served to actually take my computer to the Genius Bar at the Apple Store and have them take a gander at it.

The bad news is that the Genius working on my computer said it was "strange" and that my computer was being "super stubborn." He is going to have to take it for a week or so to see what he can do.

The good news is that at initial appearance, the hard drive seems to have some defect, but it is responding to tests, so they are pretty sure they can back up the data, even if they have to install a new hard drive.

The other terms they were throwing around were "core panic" and "failed logic board." I have no idea what any of that crap means, but it can't be good, right? I mean, "panic" and "failed" aren't words that I generally associate with a successful computing experience.

We shall see and I shall keep you posted.

I am not sure whether I've lost all my photos. I'm such a jackass. A lesson to be learned in all of this is, for god's sakes, BACK UP YOUR FILES!

I put too much blind faith into my machine, and my backups are sporadic at best. At least I still have my pictures on my .Mac site. I'm sure I can re-import them from there into iPhoto if necessary.

Damn!

Hitched Without a Hitch

I have no actual wedding photos for now. It will be a while before those are in my hot little hands.

But, I think most folks will agree that the wedding was lovely and fun and went off without even the slightest difficulty.

Following the reception, Stephen and I were quick to don a pair of shorts and head to the inn tavern for one last beer. There we encountered Jim and Bob, some of our guests who also stayed overnight at the Inn. We were hoping for a bite to eat as we had eaten very little at our reception. Alas, the kitchen was closed. We made do, quite contentedly, with some overpriced chips and nuts from the lobby.

A great end to a great day.

Thanks to everybody for attending and for your beautiful, thoughtful, generous gifts.

I am off to the honeymoon. Peace out, yo!

Here Comes the....STRESS!!

I think I mentioned in my last post that I've had these two day-long workshops related to teacher mentoring for next year. As I sat there yesterday, watching the hours ticking away, and thinking of the things I could have been doing instead, I was pretty anxious.

After the workshop, I went over to pick up my dress. It had been steamed and was all wrapped in a plastic bag. Since the last fitting had been just two weeks before, the ladies in the shop said it was good to go. They did advise me to take it out of the plastic bag to avoid condensation in this extreme heat.

Upon getting it to E's place, I did remove it from the plastic and could not resist the urge to try it on one more time. I have to say, I wasn't terribly happy with what I was seeing.

The spaghetti straps, which I had added to increase my comfort level in the dress, seemed to have been thrown on willy-nilly, as an afterthought. There wasn't much logic to their placement, and they certainly didn't sync in seamlessly as part of the design. It looked pretty obvious that they were just thrown on there at the last moment. Also, the straps were way to loose, meaning that even just standing there at rest, they kept looping over the sides of my shoulders and falling off.

Great...so the option was to either keep pulling up a strapless gown all night, or to do endless battle with enormous, ill-placed straps. Normally, when I have some little "wardrobe malfunction" of that sort, I think, "Ah, who the hell is going to be looking at me anyway?" and I wear the item in question anyway. However, the point of having a wedding is that people kind of look at you.

So, I tried tucking the straps away to see if wearing it strapless might not be the better option after all. No dice there. The front line of the dress, across my chest, had this huge pucker in it. If I looked down, I could see straight down to my bra.

I called the shop and they told me to bring in the dress.

The woman who altered it last time was working. When she looked at the dress, it was almost like an alien abduction thing. She didn't deny doing the original work on the dress, but she looked as if she couldn't possibly understand what had come over her when she had done it.

Out came the razor blade and the straps were cut off, repositioned, and completely re-fitted. She said they were an entire inch too long. Ahhh...that seems rather significant to me.

Then, she ended up having to pin off the whole front and she is going to recut that and refit it. Jesus, I was a wreck going to pick it up yesterday, hoping it would fit. Now I'm even more nervous because she's cutting stuff off the dress, so if she effs up again, there's no turning back.

Also, the woman mentioned that my bra was "all wrong." Again, I have worked with this woman about three times and believe me when I tell you that there are no secrets between me and this woman. She has seen more of my body than even my doctor has. She has reached her entire arm down this very bra countless times, and has made no mention of it being "all wrong." She was the one who gave my 78 dollar Spanx the old heave-ho, too, so she hasn't been shy about giving undergarment advice in the past.

Now, I have to go to Lady Grace again today and pray that they have something I can work with.

Oh, and as another little pleasant aside, the bra that I currently have, which I've worn for a total of 15 minutes over the course of my fittings, has a bone popping right out of the middle of it. I do have the receipt, but the tags are off and it has been three months since I purchased it. I'm probaby shit out of luck there, but I am going to bring it in and ask them to exchange it for at least something else.

Christ.

So glad all this is happening on the day before the wedding!!

I know, I know...every couple has last minute crap to do in the last minutes before a wedding, but Jesus!

Random Observations

I am having a glass of wine as I write. So wonderful on this hot night!!


I am sitting here in my sweltering apartment (which I actually quite like, by the way), and reflecting upon the fact that this is my last Wednesday as a single woman. I will be Mrs. K. in just three days.

Strange.

And yeah, I am going to change my last name. I wasn't sure whether I would do that or not, but when I asked Stephen about his thoughs on the subject, he confessed that he always imagined that if he got married, his wife would take his last name. That said, Stephen, being the extremely liberal, forward-thinking person that he is, was certainly not insistent or demanding about the thing. He was just telling me how he felt. If I had told him that I wanted to stay Nancy B., he wouldn't have cared in the least.

But, truth be told, I hate the fact that my first and last name are both twy syllables and each ends in the "ey" sound. Yuck. When I hear people say my first and last name together, it annoys me. I can't explain why. Marriage and a name change will remedy that situation sure enough.

Ha ha.

Anyway, I had mentor training in my school district today. I think I may have already written about this. I basically get paid to be the person who answers questions for new colleagues in the building. Jesus, I have been doing that for free for years anyway. Might as well get paid for it. I had though, prior to today, that the stipend for this position was 1200 dollars. Turns out, it is 2400 dollars. That in addition to the 1,000 dollars I get paid for packing my boxes for our upcoming move to the new school, and the 1,000 I get paid for unpacking said boxes in the new school. Jesus...I love being on a city payroll.

I don't feel like getting into all of this, but because of a state-sanctioned change in the status of my particular area of certification, I have to go through a recertification process that could run me 2500 dollars. Christ. What a joke. I was pissed enough to think that I would probably think about leaving teaching. But seriously...for all the benefits of being on that city payroll, this certificatoin headache (and it will be a headache), will be well worth it in the end.

Ok, enough about that.

Wedding stuff...

I bought a really cute pair of little white fancy flip-flops for the wedding. Sure, I will wear the little heels for the ceremony and the pictures and such, but Lauren popinted out that I might want a pair of cute COMFORTABLE little flip flops for the party portion of the day. Great idea!

This just in...

Stephen and I have these two neighbors (a lesbian couple) whom we have really come to like very much. They have come by a few times to borrow butter for baking or whatever. We chat when we see them around. Anyway, last night, one of the women came by to see if we could help her assemble a fan she'd bought. Her partner was out of town and they had not yet put in their AC. We ended up putting the fan together and had a beer with her. It was fun. Anyway, she just knocked on the door and presented me with a six pack of Sam Adams Summer in the way of a thanks for our help. Too nice. Very unnecessary, but quite appreciated. It is a comfort knowing that we have such nice neighbors whom we could depend upon if we needed something.

Ok, back onto my other random thoughts.

On the T today, a father and son (the kid was about 12) were pointing out and oogling at attractive women. Is this just sick? Maybe I'm just jealous because I was not one of the chosen women. Hmmm...

And finally, I know Lauren brought this up in her blog at one point, but I'm going to revisit the issue, let's talk about the toilets in womens bathrooms being completely covered in piss. Jesus, I can understand it in public bus stations or train temrinals or something, but I swear, every single time I go into my gym (which is a very high-end, almost-100-per-month establishment) every single toilet is covered in piss. Ladies, just sit the fuck down. What is this??

Live from the Watertown Public Library

It is 95 degrees outside and I'm coolin' in the Watertown Public Library. Why not the beach, or the backyard pool, you ask? Well, at noon today I had a dentist appointment here in Watertown. Stephen works here in Watertown, and since we're due to the Inn to make final wedding reception arrangements, we figured we'd just meet up at his work and go together.

I'm sure I mentioned in an earlier post that Stephen's car was stolen from right in front of our building. This had to have been about three weeks ago now. At least. The thing that really bothers me about these morons who stole the car, is that they get to literally walk away from the entire thing scott free, while Stephen has to be held responsible for a 500 dollar insurance deductable, and we are left to suffer the slings and arrows of having no car. We are normally fine without the car, and often don't use it for days on end, but at this point, it would be nice to have one available to us.

So, anyway, I decided against coming to Watertown, leaving, and then turning right back around and battling the bus to come all the way back. Seemed stupid. So, we have to meet at his work, take a bus to a Zip Car, take the Zip Car to Concord, drop off the Zip Car, take the bus to Harvard Square where we'll connect to our final bus home.

Can you see why I am starting to hate the jerks who stole the car?

I was walking around outside, but the heat was getting to me. You won't often hear me say that. So I came into the library and have decided to use the internet here while I kill some time.

There are some poor slobs waiting to use the computers, likely for far more worthwhile pursuits than pointless blogging. Perhaps I'll give them a go on the computer. My time is up anyway.

I like this blogging on the road, thing.

Super Sleuths Are On To Me!

So, it would appear that Reesie and Laurita have both cracked the seemingly impenetrable mystery of where and for whom I am working this summer.

As Reesie would put it, "the store that isn't called 'Orange'" has been an interesting adventure so far. I have had two days of corporate style brainwashing/training and one day of in-store training. Actually, the in-store was more of an abbreviated, 5-hour shift in which we learned more about the actual store than the company itself. I have another full day tomorrow, but won't quite yet be on the sales floor in my full capacity as (I'll rhyme here in order to continue to keep things covert) "Nac Pestialist." I will apparently be in the back room, using a "Nac" to do an online training, complete with quizzes, to learn as much as I possibly can about the "Nac" and "eyeDod" families. Yeah, they're called famlies. I wasn't clever enough to make that up.

To be honest, I'm just psyched about the fact that other than the required company t-shirt, I can wear what the hell ever I want to work. Shorts. Jeans. Skirt. Flip-flops. Whatever. I still haven't been given one of the abovementioned t-shirts, but I think they'll hold off on that one until I'm actually on the salesfloor. They have super-cute ones right now, touting the impending arrival of the product which will be launched on June 29th.

Anyway, it should be an OK job. I'll let you know more about it as I get further along. (In cryptic overtures, of course.)

I should run. Stephen and I have lots of lists to make of the many things that we still have to do before the wedding.

T minus 6 days and counting.

The Two Best Reasons for Becoming a Teacher....July and August!

There is nothing better than school vacation. Sure, I end up working and trying to hustle up some cash to survive for the two months off, but still...not having to face a full day's teaching every day is such a great feeling. Mind you, I enjoy teaching and I like the kids and what have you, but I just LOVE school vacation!

The last day of school was an unheard of early-bird June 14th. There are lots of reasons to celebrate the close of this particular school year.

First of all, there's the insanely early relase date I just mentioned.

Secondly, there's the fact that this is our last year in our temporary holding facility. The new school will be open in Sepetember. And it is gorgeous! I was on the design committee and heavily involved in decisions regarding color, materials, paint, furnishings, etc. It was a pain in the neck sometimes to go to the meetings, but walking through the place has blown me away. I can't wait to take up residence in my new classroom. I'll actually have real cabinetry and a beautiful desk. At my current location, the pipe behind my storage closet rotted out early last year, thus leaving me to resort to using stacks of milk crates to house my books. Beautiful. It always looked so professional for parent conferences. Thank god no parents show up to conferences at my school. Then I'd really have reason to be embarassed. Now my embarassment is purely theoretical in the hypothetical sense of "What if a parent ever turned up for parent conferences and saw these 'shelves.'"? You get my drift. Although the picture shown below is not an actual snapshot of the dumpy state of my temporary classroom, I think it does a fairly accurate job of illustrating the work conditions I've suffered for the past two years.



Yeah, the new school is going to be a much welcome change.

And thirdly, we get paid 3 days worth of our yearly salary for packing up the boxes on this end of the move, and three days pay for unpacking the boxes on the other end of the move. This will work out to about 1,118 for me both this summer and again in the Fall. I love being on a city payroll. And althogh I can often be heard loudly complaining about the fact that I was never provided with any matierals or books to teach social studies, I must admit to having been delighted to find that I had a total of six boxes to pack in order to complete my entire move. I did let guilt take hold and I helped other colleagues, but still...

The last day was filled with joy and sadness as our 8th graders prepared to take leave of us and venture onto the high school. However, any tears quickly gave way to shouts of "PARTY!!" as the kids pulled away on the school bus-come party van on that last day.




I've been very busy ever since the release from school.

The kids got out on Thursday, but we had professional development on Friday. On Saturday and Sunday, I had my corporate training (I mean, BRAINWASHING) for my new job. I am hereby literally banned from ever mentioning the name of my new employer on this or any website for the duration of my time working for them. Honestly. I had to sign confidentiality agreements, and in anticipation of a new product which will hit the market on the 29th, I have had to give my cell phone over at work every day in order to allow the managers to keep tabs of camera phones and shit. Anyway, on Monday and Tuesday, I had to do my packing at school. On Wednesday and Thursday I had tons of errands to do. Then yesterday, Friday, I had my first in-store shift at my new company. This weekend is time to rest and get some wedding stuff done. Monday, back to work at the store for further training. Wednesday and Thursday I have day-long workshops for school. Friday is wedding rehersal.

Saturday......WEDDING!

A Jones-Tastic Evening!

Last night was my big bachelorette party. The party itself wasn't a secret. Lauren planned it, and she told me the date and time and all the essential details up front. In fact, I provided her a lot of my friends' contact into, etc. Hell, she even told me where the thing was going to take place. I was all prepared for a quiet, mellow night out with some girlfriends. A few drinks. A bit to eat. A few laughs. Sounded perfect.

I arrived at the bar, Madison's on the Avenue, at the appointed hour of 6:30 and immediately noticed my friends, Peter and Michael, standing there. Hmmm....I was a bit surprised by their presence. After all, Lauren had claimed that it would be all girls. It didn't take me long to realize that Meg's boyfriend, Jon, was also in the house, as were Stephen, and Gene, the designated DJ.

As soon as I entered, Gene started spinning some Tom Jones..... a perfect party kick-off if you ask me.

I thought that the Jack and Jill nature of the party might be the extent of the surprise, but even as that thought crossed my mind, my eyes were panning the room, and realizing that there were even more little treats in store.

First of all, a whole collection of old Tom Jones record album covers adorned the walls, showing Jones in a variety of poses and showcasing the variety in his personal styles throughout the span of his decades-long career. There was "sausage in the pants Jones," "Roman-God-being-fed-grapes-by-voluptuous-women Caesar's-Palace Jones," "Contemplative Profile with Mutton Chops Jones" and, of course, "hairy-chested shirtless Jones." These record albums would serve two purposes. First, of course, they were there to decorate the dump. Secondly, later in the evening, there would be a contest where the winners would be allowed to select a Jones album, in which various treats and prizes were hidden. This contest involved Lauren having written down little bits of information about me, and then giving the cards out to people. When I drew a phrase, name, place, the person with the matching card would be allowed to come select an album. I was lucky enough to win once, and I wasted no time in adding the Jones at Caesar's Palace album to my already vast empire of Jones nick-nacks, trinkets, and baubles.

Let me also make mention, right here, of the fabulous cake! Lauren and Trish were in cahoots to put this together. The photo of Jones in the banana hammock, lying there in his full glory, is just WRONG. Jesus, hasn't anybody ever told this clown about WAXING!!?? Becky had a point when she said that Jones could easily have been featured in the VH-1 show about celebs who should NOT be seen in swimwear in public. I think the "help yourself" banner is, quite literally, the "icing on the cake" here.





The even rolled along nicely. There was a great crowd of people, lots of good food, and a generally festive mood.

Still, though, even the genial atmosphere and the addition of my good guy friends to the party, did not constitute the full extent of the surprises Lauren had up her sleeve for this fiesta.

At one point, Maggie, who is planning her own wedding, approached me and engaged me in a very intense conversation about the slings and arrows of wedding preparations. I was so engrossed in what she was saying, and not envying her being in the initial planning phases, that I didn't even notice that there was some interesting activity taking place behind me.

I did hear a hideous bout of feedback coming from the sound system at one point, and immediately lept to the conclusion that Gene was tanked and being incompetent with the DJ equipment. I was going to turn around and bust his chops, but Maggie had me riveted, so I never got around to it.

Just as things quieted down behind me, Gene announced, "Ladies and Gentlemen, this is Tom Jones." Flummoxed, I turned around to see what was up. Why the hell was Gene announcing the arrival of Tom Jones?

Before I Had a chance to truly process that question, this Tom Jones impersonator walked out and took center stage, immedately lapsing into a rousing version of "Its Not Unusual." According to Lauren, in my initial phases of shock, I burst out with, "Jesus! Where the hell did you get this guy?" Apparently I said this right in the guy's face. But, he didnt' seem to be the least bit troubled or phased by it. I'm sure that when you eke out your livelihood by impersonating Jones, you hear that a lot.




Anyway, the above shows Jones just as he entered the room. The onlookers were obviously delighted with the performance. As you can see, the outfit was somewhat dubious (the sanitation worker jacket was a little strange), but I can assure you that the moves and the mannerisms were dead on. The guy could not have been more legit. It was hilarious!!!

Talk about shocking! I had no idea. Lauren kept asking me later if I really was utterly clueless before hand. I am not sure how I can guarantee her that I could never have imagined in my wildest dreams that Jones would show up at my bachelorette party!! Ha ha.



Here is a beautiful action shot, showcasing Jones and his masterful seranading/seduction skills. As you can well see, Lauren, Meg and I were swooning!



Here I am, cutting a rug with Jones! At least, I was trying to cut a rug. I couldn't hold a candle to this chump in the coreogreaphy department.



And finally, the above picture shows me and Jones doing a little duet together. I especially like the fact that the "Got Jones" shirt that Lauren ordered me specifically for the occasion was so prominently on display.

And by the way, yeah, I got Jones!

At any rate, the eats, the company, the entertainment, and the hooch were all first rate.

So...to Lauren, who organized the entire thing and really put a ton of effort into it...THANKS!!!

And to my lovely guests,

Lauren, Gene, Meg, Jon, Stephen, Liz, Kathleen, Bailey, Jackie, Faye, Becky, Reesie, Jules, Maryanne, Karen, Maggie, Maura, Sophia, Beth, E, Julie B., Peter, Michael, Barbara and Jenn (and if I've forgotten anybody I'm sorry!!), THANK YOU!!! It was a night I'll never forget.

Strate Up Bitches.

Let me just begin by saying that the bathrooms in my school are in a deplorable state. They are rotten. Filthy. Gross. Try as the janitor may (and he makes a valiant effort), he just cannot stay on top of the situation. The kids are constantly in there writing hideous things on the walls, stuffing rolls of toilet paper down the sinks and toilets, and just generally trashing the place.

Anyway, today one of my students told me that there was a "rude message" about me and my teaching colleague on the wall. I pretended not to care, but right after dismissal, I rounded up my colleague and we went down to search for the evidence.

We donned our haz-mat suits and made sure that our wills were up to date and then we ventured in.

The first thing I noticed was that since my last trip in there, the four stalls have been designated (unofficially by the students, of course) as grade level gossip stalls. The mean stuff about 5th grade students and teachers is confined to the first stall, the sixth grade to the second stall, etc. The seventh and eighth grade stalls are the third and fourth respectively.

In the 7th grade stall, one line of graffiti says, "I hate Ms. B (that's me) she's a bitch." The remark right next to it says, "Ms. B and Ms. L, STRATE UP BITCHES."

All my colleague and I could do was laugh and remind ourselves that we are, after all, middle school teachers. This is par for the course.

And to be honest, I'm pretty sure that I am a strate up bitch sometimes, so it can't be entirely undeserved.

Hardly a Dull Moment

Aren't weekends supposed to be relaxing? Well, this weekend has been anything but for me.

It all started Friday night when I had to not only attend a retirement party for a few of my colleagues, but I also had to make a "special presentation" to one of the honored retirees. Now, the thing is that this woman is absolutely lovely, and it was a pleasure and a delight to say a bunch of nice things about her in front of a big group of people. However, I really didn't feel like I could just go and relax and numb the slings and arrows of this group retirement function with a few glasses of cheap wine. I had to actually be on my toes enough to get up there and make a meaningful dedication to this woman in front of her entire family and colleagues past and present.

I was really aiming for some kind of speech that would capture the essence of this woman's very special way with kids and to do justice to the many years she dedicated to her students. Apparently I was successful in this endeavor because the woman's daughter was teary-eyed throughout the presentation, and her husband admitted to "having come close to shed a tear myself once or twice."

Anyway, never fear. I retired to the bar to partake of that cheap wine brain-numbing exercise immediately following my speech.

I forgot to mention that since the party started at 7, and since one of my colleagues and I decided we'd go together, we decided to motivate ourselves to stay around school from release time (2:30) until 6:30 in order to do some packing for our move to the new school.

Great idea.

The school has no air conditioning, and a tempermental elevator. I was packing crap books into heavy trash bags and hauling them down to the outside trash dumpster. It must have taken me about 20 trips up and down to get rid of half of the shit I need to dump. We were told that we can't put books directly into the trash dumpster because neighbors might see them and question why they are being thrown away. Best to keep them hidden in trash bags because I'm sure those neighbors would want the kids to continue learning from geography books that continue to list the GDP per capita of the United States as $11,000 and make countless references to "colored Americans" and "The Soviet Union."

Jesus.

Anyway, after all this work, I was disgusting. Luckily I had thought to bring a change of clothes, some facial cleanser, deodorant and some other "Irish Shower" essentials.

The retirement party went on until around midnight, and although it was very nice, I was practically asleep by the end of it.


We got some wedding stuff done this weekend.




We met with our very cool DJ and picked out the "essential dance" songs. I think we have some good ones. The DJ himself (after 28 years in the biz) was even impressed with some of our selections. We're doing the Phil Collins "Groovy Kind of Love" for the first dance. Always loved that one. We'll leave the rest of our selections a surprise. There's gotta be some element of excitement.




And the boys, Stephen, the Maniac, John and Gene, went to take care of the tuxedo business today. I did not accompany them. From their description, everything sounds like its on the up and up.




While the guys were out tux shopping, E and I watched my best girls, Allie and Caroline. They are both gorgeous, as you can clearly see. And that little spit-fire, Caroline, is getting more and more talkative evrey day. She's going to be reciting Shakespeare very soon!!! I love both of these kids so much.

Following the tuxedo adventure, Stephen, Gene and I sat and watched the Red Sox kick some Yankees pinstripied backside.



OK, I've got a baby shower to get through tomorrow. After that and a quick trip to the gym, I'm going to sit on my bum and do nothing for the remainder of Sunday evening.

Honeymoon in Vermont

Stephen and I have decided that our honeymoon should consist of a nice, leisurly trip through New England. It will feature a variety of lodgings (everything from a brief two day stay at "the cabin" at the beginning of the trip, to a random campground here and there, to a stay at the lovely Middlebury Inn in Middlebury, Vermont.

The above picture shows the porch at the Middlebury Inn. Why go to Middlebury, you ask? Well, I attended the Ecole Francaise de Middlebury College for my MA for 4 summers between 1996 and 1999, and I just fell in love with the place. I can't wait to go back. Vermont is a really gorgeous state...IN SUMMER! I have not had much experience with the place in winter. I'm happy to keep it that way.

The first summer I went to Middlebury (which we dubbed, "Club Midd" to make ourselves feel better about sacraficing so many summers working like slaves toward our MA), my mother and I drove up together. We stayed at the Middlebury Inn and were charmed. It is situated on Midd's pictoresque town green (and essential of all quaint New England towns, right?), and the laid back Vermont mentality.

I was totally enamored by the wrap around front porch, outfitted with comfy adirondak chairs that lend themselves perfectly to an evening of people-watching.

I asked Stephen if Middlebury could be a stop on our trip, and he was more than happy to comply. I'm also excited because the Midd summer session will have just started, so I can try to visit some old pals at the college.



Here's a picture of the front of the Inn.



These lovely chairs are situated on the back lawn. Perfect for wasting away an afternoon reading, sipping a glass of wine, dozing off, or just basking in the sun.



And here's my alma mater, Middlebury College. Many of my classes were held here in "Le Chateau." Yeah, that's the kind of building you get to have classes in when the price tag of the education reads like a phone number.




Here's Midd in the fall. I was never around for this view, but I believe it to be even more spectacular than even this photo could suggest.

thirty more days to go until the wedding.

Green Green Grass of Home

Another Monday mercifully over.

Aren't Mondays the worst? Today was particularly difficult to get motivated to go to work because finally, after 4 straight days of relentless, driving, horizontal downpours, the sun was out in force. It was the kind of day that you want to spend sitting in a park reading for hours on end. But, alas, it was back to work. Isn't that always the way?

But I have to say, as depressing as the rains were, it seems to have given way to a whole new, fresh, lush and vibrant world. The lawns and leaves are a green that defies this humble author's ability to decribe. I won't even try.

It is a little cool out there, but the air is fresh and clean and pregnant with an almost herbal fragrance. I'm loving life today.

I did lots of lounging around this weekend because hiding out under a warm blanket with a good book or sappy Lifetime movie was a much more attractive option when compared to going out in the monsoon rains. However, all productivity or notions thereof were not entirely lost this weekend. I managed to get my arse to the gym both days, and got the wedding flower order taken care of.



The above-pictured purple cala lillies will feature prominently in all floral arrangements.



And these purple roses (along with cream colored roses) should round out the bouquets very elegantly.

Let's hope purple was a good color choice. The Brattle Florist guy really usually knows his business, so we'll put our trust in his abilities and hope that he does not disappoint. Somehow, I cannot imagine that he will.

I also did some far less exciting stuff like clean my bathtub and try out my new wok with a pretty basic Asian chicken stir fry.

I had a meeting after school today, so no trip to the gym came to fruition, but I didn't mind the day off, to be honest. It was kind of nice to troll around after school and take care of a few errands.

Hey, I also opened up mine and Stephen's joint checking account today. That felt oddly adult and grown up.

Anyway, I'm gonna go finish watching the Sox/Yanks game. Things are not looking good for the Sox. Fingers crossed for a come-from-behind victory.

Huh?

I was on the train this morning, headed to the gym, when I noticed something that simply has to epitomize the word "Ironic."

I had never noticed this before because, knowing the T like the back of my hand, I have very little occasion to ever look at the map of the routes. But today, as the train (not surprisingly) stood halted for about ten minutes just three feet short of the station platform where I wanted to disembark, I found myself looking rather passively at the T map. I looked at the little legend to see what special features can be boasted at the various stations around the system. One of the little icons is the universal "handicapped" symbol, which indicates wheelchair accessibility.

Here's where the irony comes into play.

With the exception of one, every single station on every single line sported the little "handicapped" icon. Not bad, considering the fact that Boston's T is the oldest subway system in the nation. I guess they've gone out of their way to make sure that wheelchair bound people can access the full spectrum of the system.

Back to the ONE station that does not have wheelchair access. That station would just so happen to be LONGWOOD. What is so ironic about this, you ask? Well, anybody who lives in Boston probably already understands my shock and awe. For my more geographically far-flung readers, allow me to explain. Boston is a city of hospitals. The world's best hospitals are all located within a stone's throw of each other. And they are all located in a neighborhood of Boston called....you guessed it....
LONGWOOD.

Now I'll spell it out. The only station lacking wheelchair access is the very station that services the hospital district of the city.

I freakin' LOVE the T!!!

Apple of my Eye

I've decided NOT to teach summer school this year. It sucks. It may be decent pay for short hours, but the kids are hideous, the school is boiling hot, the administration could not be less supportive, and it affords me no break whatsoever from my day-in-day-out dealings with kids.

Every summer I say I'm not doing summer school. Every summer, I end up doing summer school.

This year will be different, however. I've purposely let the "apply by" date come and go for the summer school positions. I never even so much as glanced in the direction of the link to the online applications. Screw that.

But, of course, I am in no financial position to be a woman of leisure. That comes later in my teaching career. For now, I'm still one of the "yung'uns" who has to work her way through the summer vacation.

I was in the Apple Store a couple of weeks back and it dawned on me that it might be kind of fun to work there. So, I filled out an online application (they don't even have paper applications; they just gave me a little card thingee with the web address where I could apply. Of course...they're Apple. D'uh!) and was asked to come to a group interview this afternoon.

There were a few interesting things going on at the interview...

First of all, I was the lone woman among 4 male interviewees. However, the managers conducting the interview were both women.

I was wearing whatever I wore to work. Considering the fact that today is completely subarctic here in lovely New England, that would have been a pair of white Gap pants, a pink LL Bean sweater, and my red clogs. One of the guys was dressed in jeans, a button down shirt and a pair of hipster sneakers. He seemed to have the complete Apple look. Now, I know they say that you should always dress one level above what the company usually expects when you go on an interview, but considering the fact that Apple store employees galavant around with cheeky sayings on their t-shirts, and open-toe flip flops, the two guys who showed up in the 3 piece suits looked very nice, but a little out of place. Then there was the guy who showed up in the complete porn star/aging gangsta outfit. You know what I mean...the long, greasy braid going down his back, the shirt open three buttons so I could make out the slightest supconne of chest wig, the Mr. T. gold medallion starter kit, and the badly executed eyebrow piercing. Pathetic.

The aging gangsta showed up fifteen minutes late, took 3 calls on his cell phone (until the interviewer had to eventually tell him to turn the thing off), and continued to ask questions about the as-yet-unreleased Apple iPhone. He kept asking if there were any advance models, if, as an Apple employee, he'd be able to purchase one before the public, and whether there was any printed information with specs and other technical crap. Although the women told him over and over that Apple employees are literally kept in the dark as much as possible about new products (in the interest of copyright/trademark security), he kept asking questions in this vein.

When one of the managers asked us what, other than iLife applications we like to use on our Macs (and she specifically said, "other than the iLife suite...no not iPhoto, iTunes, etc), this asshole, even after listening to all of us talk about non-Apple suite products, said, "I love my iTunes!"

And, last but not least, when the other woman asked us to discuss a time when, as a retailer or in any service capacity, we could describe how we had successfully or unsuccessfully handled a situation, we all illustrated our strengths as customer service people by talking about how we'd put out fires on our jobs and left people feeling satisfied, or at least less upset than they had been when they came in. Aging gangsta started talking about how a salesguy at Best Buy was giving him a hard time. Ahhh....talk about missing the point, BOPO!

I don't know what'll happen. They said they would take three weeks to get back. Whatever. I'm not really holding my breath or awaiting too anxiously. There's always some idiotic job out there to be had. But I have to admit, the official Apple job title of "Mac Nerd" really appeals to me. The power of knowing how to do everything on the Mac is a little intoxicating. Sure, sure...I could help customers and earn a few bucks, but with the knowledge of the extensive Apple training, I culd unleash the full potential of my own Mac and then....well, I'll wake up the freakin' world!!

Anyway, I'll keep you posted.

My back's totally effed up today. Gotta get on the heating pad.

Gilmore Girls Series Finale...Must See At All Costs!

About a year ago, Reesie got me started on the Gilmore Girls. I'm not sure how that even evolved, but before I knew it, I had taken temporary possession of her entire Gilmore Girls DVD library and was oddly compelled to watch three, sometimes four episodes in one sitting.

I found myself enjoying the show immensly. I was quickly drawn to the quick-paced signature Gilmore banter, the ceaseless pop culture references, and the endlessly likable characters and their even more adorable small town, Stars Hollow. I was hooked. I even found myself going to Target to buy one of the seasons that Reesie was missing from her collection. I simply had to see how things worked out with Jess, Logan, Luke....or whatever gorgeous looking boy/man was haunting Loralei Senior and/or Junior.

Anyway, it was only through reading Reesie's blog last blog entry that I realized that the Gilmore Girls Glory was in its Swan Song final phases. Only two episodes left, she reported. Suddenly, I started to feel guilty. I haven't even watched all of the episodes this season. Do I even have the right to lay claim to Gilmore Girls departure sadness? Finally, I decided that I do, indeed, have the right to be sad at the loss of a great show. I can be, at once, a fair weather fan, and a mournful viewer. Why not?

I figure that at one point, Reesie and I will sit together and have a Gilmore DVD marathon, and I will eventually catch up on all the episodes I have missed.

The thing is, I'm going to stop commenting here for two reasons::

1. I don't want to spoil the final episode for anybody who hasn't seen it yet.

2. Reesie's entry will undoubtedly be far more heartfelt than mine, and will easily eclipse anything I have to say, both in conent and sheer literary talent.

I'll leave the true work of analysing the final Gilmore episode to Reesie, in other words.

I also thought I would note that it was so vital that I see the Gilmore Girls that I rushed home in order to do so. Well, I TRIED to rush home. I had to wait for the bus for over an hour, though, when it should have been there every 15 or 20 minutes or so. Christ.

And by the time it finally came, it was so freakin packed. It wasn't just packed from home-from-work commuters, either, but rather with people who had apparently just returned from an epic round-the-globe journey a la Shackleton. The amount of suitcases, trunks and other large, cumbesome luggage was unlike anything I'd ever seen in my life!




I thought about taking another bus, but then I remembered that some dealy had caused 3 previously scheduled busses from this route to miss their run. I decided against chancing it, and hopped aboard. After all, I had to say goodbye to Loralei, Rory, Kirk, Luke, Sookie...etc.

Back from the Big Apple

Stephen and I ventured into New York City for the weekend and had a great time!!

Stephen's godparents own a gorgeous home in Brooklyn Heights (the total Cosby Show neighborhood) and they graciously invited us to come spend the weekend at their place. They could not have been any kinder or more generous to us. We arrived on Friday evening, having taken the very relaxing and punctual Amtrak Acela train from Boston Back Bay to Penn Station. From there, we managed to very uneventfully catch a train to Brooklyn, and find their place without incident. In other words, the travel part was easy and surprisingly pleasant.

On Saturday morning, we got up, had a great breakfast with Murry and Shirley, and then hit the town. We left their place at around 9:30, and set out on foot to cross the Brooklyn Bridge to head into Manhattan.



The weather was awesome and the walk across the bridge was really beautiful. We obviously ended up in lower Manhattan, and from there, we walked all over the city. We hit Canal Street (China Town) where I partook of the illicit knock-off handbag trade, purchasing a fake Kate Spade purse, and a cheap-o Coach wristlet purse. Very cute. Very cheap.

Canal Street is really fun, but incredibly overwhealming. There are swarms of humanity crowding every square inch of the place. I was only able to handle the scene briefly, before pushing on to other crowded, but decidedly less insane areas of the city.

Our meanderings took us uptown, but we sort of stopped our northward trek at around 25th street. Going further uptown would have taken us to Times Square and midtown, but that wasn't what we were really interested in doing. We really wanted to check out the Greenwich Village area, and enjoy a trendy, but less cheesy part of town. Don't get me wrong, Times Square is awesome, and we were trolling around there before getting on our return train from Penn Station this afternoon, but for yesterday's strolling, we wanted to do something that we really hadn't done before.



We also really enjoyed Washington Square and the park. Very cute. Very beautiful in the picture-perfect weather.



And finally, to keep the Bon Jovi theme going, I have to post this picture of the absolutely massive 3 storey banner of Jon Bon Jovi hanging in the Virgin Mega Store in Times Square. He's been involved with some Kenneth Cole charity thing for a while now, and this is his latest sollicitation venture.

What a great way to end the trip to NY.