On a snarky hunt

So, I watched the Oscars the other night. The highlight for me is always commenting on the clothes and the hair, the good and the bad.

Did anyone see Philip Seymour Hoffman's hair? Really really bad.

I mean bad.

But, can I find one website with a picture of it? A snarky remark? a mention?

Nope.

It was as if he was trying for greasy dreadlocks, but gave up half-way through the process (being that he has thin, straight, baby blond hair).


Is there a gag order out there about it? Does he have people that will hurt you if his hair is written about? Should I be scared now?

And what does it say about me that I've spent the last half hour searching the web for info about somebody's bad hair?

My niece Tinkerbell

She's not here just yet, but already we have a picture!

My head itches

I've never had a problem with dandruff, but for the last two years, I've had the most itchy scalp known to humankind. No psoriasis, nothing weird up there, just itchy.

What does this mean?

Yes, I've had it checked out, and there's nothing wrong, and nothing that can be done. Well, unless I take my mother's advice and douse my head in olive oil. No thank you.

So, I itch, and I'm sure some folk must think I have lice. Charming. Perhaps that's the reason I don't date?

On other Sunday morning news, I went out early to get started on my laundry (the washer and dryer are outside, behind the main house), and I was surprised by this little gift:



If you click on it, you'll see how lovely it really was. This is the view from the laundry area. I don't remember the last time I saw a rainbow in the morning. I know there's something about the angle of the sun and so on that makes rainbows only possible at early morning and late afternoon, but that's about as technical as I get.

Did I tell you all that my friend D is home? Yahoo! His wife is doing great at both keeping up with all that he needs (including a feeding tube for the next 4-6 weeks, and the blog. I've linked it above if you're interested).

I know he still has a long way to go, but the really scary part is over now. I know it's because of all the positive thoughts sent his way. And I know some of you really helped. Thank you, and keep it up! He has to stay clear of infection right now. His chemo starts up again in about a month.

That's about all the Sunday news for now. I was trying to convince Torn of a Las Vegas trip, but with his trendy and hip stay in NY, that doesn't look likely until at least July now. Ah well. Save my money.

Walking the Wonderdog

Sunrise a few mornings ago. Taken from the driveway.

Yesterday, after a short but torrential downpour. I was trying to take a picture of the hawk hanging out on the phone wires, but it ended up looking more like dust on my camera. Time to get a new one perhaps?

Just cute little mushrooms growing out of the dirt and mulch at the side of the road. Charlie boy was very interested in them, and I had to keep shooing him out of the shot.

I really can't complain.

Thirteen Thursday # 4

And before I begin, D called last night! Yep, from the hospital. Sounds just like he always does, and called at 11:00 at night, which he always does (he has a hard time remembering that most folks sleep at that time). It was so good to hear his voice. He might be going home tomorrow. Still has a lot of healing to do, but... it's all looking so good right now. Thanks for all the good thoughts sent his way.

Thirteen things on my desk:

1. Vanishing Venus nail polish. It’s a really cool color; a brownish-red with a green shimmer. The shimmer doesn’t show so much when it’s on my nails. Okay, I know it sounds weird, but it’s pretty.

2. Teacher’s Edition of the 8th grade Holt Literature and Language Arts textbook. Five years ago we adopted new textbooks at our school. Because I was the department chair at that time, all the publishers sent me loads of free “inspection” copies of their texts. Which means now, I have my very own book to mark up and keep at home, and have another, official one at school. Makes things much easier when planning lessons.

3. A baby shower card I misplaced before my sister’s shower a couple of weeks ago. Whatever. I’m so done with her being pregnant. I know, I know, I’ll love the baby, be a great auntie, but my god, the world does not revolve around her big belly (I sound snotty, don’t I?).

4. A list of nine students who are missing at least six assignments in my class. I need to call their parents. Ugh.

5. Strawberry Shortcake roll-on perfume. Someone sent it to me, but I can’t imagine wanting to smell like that. I sometimes trade on makeupalley.com, and thought I might swap this.

6. A big green Christmas tree ornament. It has red flocking on it, and is lovely. A student gave it to me this year, but I didn’t put up a tree. It’s oversize, and when I was packing up the other decorations, I had no idea how or where to store it. So, here it sits.

7. Lifesavers. Mom always gives me a lifesaver book every Christmas. I have two Wild Cherry rolls left. I don’t like ‘em; tastes like Sucrets to me. Anyone want them?

8. Knox Original Unflavored Gelatine. Don’t ask. I have no fucking clue.

9. Maidenform Stay Put Fashion Tape. This stuff is fab. I am, how shall we say… not small up top. I have to be careful to avoid gaposis when wearing a shirt or dress that buttons. This tape solves the problem. It can be used to keep fabric close to the skin too; but I’m not the type to wear the deep-V tops.

10. Metal nail file. One never knows when one will need to smooth out a snagged nail.

11. Four used, AA batteries. From my SanDisk. I know it’s bad to throw the batteries into the regular trash, but I don’t know what to do with them! Help me.

12. Glass of Sauvignon Blanc. What, you think I drink English Breakfast tea when I’m composing?

13. A box of 25, PC Formatted, floppy disks from Staples. Really, really bright colors. Florescent, if you will. What the hell am I going to do with them now? My thumb drive covers it all. What’s going to be obsolete next?

Ten Reasons Why I'm Glad I'm a Woman

1. Clothing choices. I can wear a skirt, pants, shorts, capris... a dress, and no one lifts an eyebrow. It's all acceptable. Color is also no problem (such as the beautiful baby blue sweater shirt I gave Torn for his birthday a couple of years ago, which he promptly handed off to his spouse, who was then teased about the "gay" color of it the one time he wore it to work).
2. Seating. I can sit at a movie theatre, on the aisle row on a plane, in a desk at work, and I don't have to keep my legs at a 90 degree angle to get air to my privates. I don't know why so many men have to sit that way at all times, just glad I don't have to.
3. Speaking of privates: I'm glad my plumbing is all self-contained. Nothing hanging out there, all exposed and needing to be protected. Besides, mine is prettier than yours.
4. And something else. I don't have to worry about being caught out if I'm... uh... you know...turned on. I can be subtle about it, and my body won't give me away.
5. Crying. I cry when I'm happy, sad, angry, touched... at those commercials narrated by David Ducoveny about puppy food. I don't feel the need to "suck it up" and no one thinks less of me because of it. I think if men were allowed by society to cry, we wouldn't have near the problems with have with violence. Just my opinion here.
6. I can carry life inside me.
7. My body can feed another being.
8. Women are more tolerant of pain. If men had the cramps I have every month, they would take to their beds and never get up again. I can feel shitty, and still keep up with my life.
9. No one sees me pee when I'm in a public bathroom.
10. I can scream if I see a mouse, and no one questions my femininity. I can tell my friends I love them, and no one questions my femininity. I can hold my friend's hand, or put my arm around her shoulder, and no one has to question if my motives are platonic or sexual. Bottom line? I really do think it's easier to be a woman in the Western world.

But.

I'm sure glad there's men in it.

13 Thursday # 3 - Thirteen CD's

I’m transferring my CD’s to my computer, and it’s taking a pretty damn long time. Next will be how to convert my CD (wma.) files into Mp3 files. Any advice?

1. Smashmouth –Smashmouth
2. Western Wall/ The Tucson Sessions – Linda Rondstat & Emmylou Harris
3. Billboard Top Hits – 1979 – Various Artists
4. The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill – Lauryn Hill
5. Pretty Woman soundtrack – Various Artists
6. Tapestry – Carole King
7. Car Wheels on a Gravel Road – Lucinda Williams
8. A Spanner in the Works – Rod Stewart
9. The Ballad Album – Rod Stewart
10. Songs in the Key of Life – Stevie Wonder
11. Still Crazy After All These Years – Paul Simon
12. Patty Smyth – Patty Smyth
13. Now Ain’t the Time for Your Tears – Wendy James

Okay, I realize there is no rhyme or reason to either my choices or the order in which I’ve listed them. Over the last few years, my cd’s have lost their logical, alphabetical set up. Some are in my 25-CD changer, some are at school in a CD wallet, some are in another wallet, some are in boxes and about 200 of them are in the wall unit I’ve outgrown to hold them all.

Here’s the lowdown:
Smashmouth just cracks me up. Summertime, fun music. The lyrics are witty and sharp. I do get tired of them after a while however.

Western Wall/ The Tucson Sessions is something I’ve not listened to for… years. I listened to it today, and don’t know why. Good stuff.

Billboard Top Hits –1979: Right back to ninth grade. “Just When I Needed You Most” by Randy Vanwarmer? Playing that over and over again in my mint green bedroom, in only the way a 14-year-old girl can? I’m there again.

The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill: I have a tendency to buy things because they are hyped up, rather than actually figuring out if I like it first or not. Don’t like this one. Call me unhip, call me uncool, but I just don’t like it.

The Pretty Woman soundtrack reminds me of living in Japan. I love almost every song on this album. All peppy and upbeat. Like the florescent clothes I wore out at night dancing.

Tapestry is one of those albums that every woman between the ages of 13 and 60 probably own, or should own if they don’t. One of the most perfect albums out there as far as I’m concerned.

Car Wheels on a Gravel Road: Like TMoLH above, I bought this because it was supposed to be oh-so-great… but didn’t listen to it first. Can’t get into it.

A Spanner in the Works and The Ballad Album: Rod Stewart was my first true love. I used to watch the old film clips of girls screaming and jumping up and down for the Beatles and just didn’t get it. That is until I went to see Rod Stewart at the California Mid-State Fair. I think I actually peed my pants that night.

Songs in the Key of Life is another album that everyone should have. Joyful, relaxed. This is music to play with friends around.

Still Crazy After All These Years: “50 Ways to Leave Your Lover” is on this album. I remember I asked my mother for the 45 of it for Christmas when I was in sixth grade. She sounded disgusted and huffed, “I most certainly will not!” I had to explain it wasn’t a book, it was a song.

Patty Smyth has disappeared. What happened to her? I wore this cassette out when I first had it.

Now Ain’t the Time for Your Tears is an album I bought in Japan. She was a protégé of Elvis Costello I think. Was she ever popular here in the states? Some of the English language pop I listened to over there was British stuff; music that didn’t make it in America. It’s a loud album. Good for cleaning house.

He's out

And he was talking last night.

12 hours instead of the 7-9 expected for the surgery, but the doctors are happy with the result.

All that strong energy worked! Keep it coming.

Tomorrow, think the good thoughts

Tomorrow is the day D has his surgery. Whenever you read this, send your strength his way. I know I'm going to be a little bit of a wreck inside until I know he's out of it, but I also know he's going to get through this part.

I went to see Billy Collins speak today at UCSB. I've seen him once before and loved it. My students think I'm nuts to pay money to hear a poet read his poetry, but they'll learn. Maybe.

Oh, that reminds me, I need to pick a poem for Poetry Monday tomorrow. Something uplifting and hopeful this time. No need for tears two weeks in a row.

Yahoolamunga!

I've been recommended for a Fulbright Teacher's Exchange.

Now if I can only get through the silly baby shower tomorrow.

13 Thursday # 2

Thirteen googles leading to my blog:

You know you’ve looked. You got to your Sitemeter, or whatever counter program you use for your blog, and you see who has stopped by. Oh, there’s Massachusetts, Gayprof’s been here; here’s Colorado, so my friend James must have come by (and yet again NOT left a comment).

And then there are the google searches. The unknown people who have typed in a word or phrase, and your blog came up as one of the hits. Sometimes, it’s obvious why and sometimes, not so much.

1.embarrassing stories about bloody period panties and tampons
God, I don’t want to know. Why, oh why would someone want to look for these? Will it be repeated somewhere? Is it some perve? What?

2. zicam chews
Okay, someone wants to know about these. They are horrible tasting. If I’ve saved one person from using them, my blog has served a higher purpose.

3. firetini
I don’t know if these are served anywhere other than Elements restaurant in Santa Barbara. They are yummy, but dangerous.

4. Maureen "little crush" Eve
Huh?

5. drunken babble
This makes sense

6. pairing hard apple cider with buffalo wings
It’s just so specific. Like a question. Here’s the thing; Buffalo wings, while tasty, aren’t really known for their gourmet cache. I don’t think anyone who eats them will be too particular about what they drink alongside them.

7. "just babble" blog
This person knew the name of my blog, but didn’t have the web address. I’m so curious. Who was it?

8. three cheese ravioli queer eye for the straight guy
Yes, this was a search. Is it some kind of code I don’t know? And although I have referenced the television show, I don’t think I’ve ever talked about ravioli.

9. "very short toes"
Every time I see a body part search, I automatically think a person has a fetish. What’s wrong with me?

10. "Sofia Rose" AND boobs
I knew when I posted last June about my sister taking the cleavage picture that I would get hits about it. Who’s Sofia Rose?

11. dress sneeze button boobs
Again, so specific. Hmmm…

12. fulbright application
Maybe someone else applied? Is thinking of applying? There is a lack of good, first hand information about the whole process of it… maybe I should write something?

13. pierogies cause heartburn
I beg to differ. They are however, probably one of my top five favorite foods. Had some last night actually.

Next Monday

My friend D goes in on Monday for surgery for his throat cancer. He'll be under the knife for 7-9 hours, with two different surgeons working on him. Then, two weeks minimum in the hospital, barring any complications. I talked to him last night, and even though he was tired, he was upbeat and really sounded good.

I'm trying so hard to be positive and hopeful, and use my thoughts and prayers to send him as much strength as I can, but I'm also scared. And every time I'm scared, or let myself think of the worst that could happen, I feel like I'm betraying him. You know how they tell you that dogs can smell fear, so don't be scared? And that just scared you even more? So you are even more scared of that big black dog that used to bark at you on the way home from school on Padova Road every day? No matter how many times you told yourself you weren't going to run past that chainlink fence, you always did? It's like that.

Every Monday in class I share a poem. It's my sneaky way of teaching them all the forms and poetic terms they need to know without cramming it into a two-week unit. Yesterday I shared one of my favorite poems, Funeral Blues, by W. H. Auden. First period, no problem; It's got an AABB rhyme scheme, it's a lyric poem, it's an Elegy, it uses the devices of metaphor and personification... all that jazz.

Second period? I barely made it through the third stanza before my voice cracked. By the end I even had some girls in the class tearing up along with me. By fifth period, it was already part of school lore: "Ms. S. was crying during class!"

Perhaps it wasn't the best choice.

Then again, why wasn't it? Poetry is important to me because it speaks to me. Not all poetry, if I have to hear Casey at the Bat one more time I'll scream. Those who say they don't like poetry, just haven't heard poetry that means anything to them yet. I've loved this poem for years; yesterday it just hit me a certain way. And isn't that the power of a good poem or book or movie? It touches us, makes us feel we aren't the only ones who feel this way? Or show us a new way to see something? Yes, my students are required by the California State Standards to know the difference between a Sonnet and an Ode... but is that what really counts?

No. It wasn't intentional, but I'm not going to feel bad about showing my human side to my kids. That poem is powerful because it touches me, not because I know what form it takes, or can identify the rhymes in it. My students should see that.

D. was talking last night about how his cancer could be a good thing. How it really pulled out the goodness in people; how the little things (like his being a flake last summer) didn't matter anymore now that something really shitty had happened. How he and his family have been overwhelmed by the outpouring from others. Sure, they expected the phone calls, some cards, but not the people flying out to Seattle, and the gifts and the time. Someone actually sent them an anonymous cashier's check of $1000 to help them through. He didn't expect the words that were said, and the amount of love shown them.

I wish I could say this as well as he did last night, but I can't.

Please though, and I'm speaking to myself right now too, don't dwell on the nonsense in your life. There's so much more to it. I'm not saying it's not fodder for the blog, nor that the ridiculousness in the world needs to be ignored -- I'm just saying, there's so much wonder in the world, take the time to notice it.

Drunk People

Torn's comment after yesterday's post:

You can't take a drunk person's word seriously. It's the alcohol talking.

I think there's more to it than that. I don't have a drink and become a raving bitch. I don't start spouting racist slurs, or make fun of everyone who doesn't happen to agree with me. I don't belittle others just because I can, and I don't start fights.

It's still the person inside talking. Alcohol just loosens things up a bit. It's not doing the talking.

This isn't to say I'm a lovely drunk. I tend to get weepy much of the time. But, that weepy person is still me, not the three Gin and Tonics I just had. That weepy, whiny person is there all the time, but decorum generally keeps her hidden away.

There's a flirty, almost slutty girl that comes out every once in a while too; and she's me as well. It's the part of me I keep stowed up on a shelf most of the time, since it's not socially acceptable to act like that in general circumstances.

I have never accepted the excuse of "I was drunk" for someone's actions. No, I think alcohol just magnifies certain parts of one's personality. I'm not an asshole in my sober life, and I'm not one in my drunken one.

And this is where the wonder of alcohol begins. When I drink, which I love to do, and do often, it's usually to relax or as part of hanging out with friends. It means I don't have any work to do, my responsibility for the day is over, and I can just be me.

Drinking is usually fun. There are times when I'm tired, or I know I'm emotionally exhausted, when I don't drink, because it won't be fun. I can tell much of the time, when I'm going to be a weepy drunk, and I avoid it. That's not how I want to be spending an evening, and it's certainly not the way my friends want to spend an evening with me. There are also times when I know I've hit my limit, and I don't want to be achy the next day, so I stop.

So, my question is, why do people like my friend's husband keep doing it? Well, yes, of course, the alcoholism part... but more than that. He's unhappy, and gets more unhappy as he drinks. How can it be something he wants to continue to do? That's the core of it. Most of us, if something makes us feel bad, we stop doing it. And yes, I'm not being dense, I'm not ignoring it is a disease... but still.

Smokers know the cigarette is bad for them, but they get a little kick from it, a little buzz. I know too much chocolate cake adds on the pounds, but the little sugar high and the pleasure at the moment of eating it overrides my knowledge. But, if alcohol only makes you unhappy, and gives you a hangover in the morning, why continue to use it?

Even drunk, I'm still me. None of my friends have changed their minds about who I am after they've seen me knock back four or five (and yes, even more) glasses of wine. And my friend's asshole husband?

Sober or not, he's an anus-probe.

The Brewhouse

After work yesterday I went to The Brewhouse for happy hour with a friend from work. Jackie is great; only 25 and married already two years. I'm her official "mentor," but really, we have fun hanging out together.

Anyway, the food is good, the beer is wonderful, and the prices (at least until 6:30 pm) are fabulous. It makes up for the fact that it's the LOUDEST place in town. And that's before the live music starts up.

I don't know what it is about that place. Everything echos off of everything else, and it's hard to even think, let alone have a conversation.

Noisy places get to me. I mean, not an amusement park or a concert, but restaurants and bars. I know, what an old lady I am. But I've always hated it. I like talking (have you noticed?), and I like being with my friends. I don't like the way my voice takes on a screeching crow quality when I raise it over the din to be heard. I don't like having to ask someone to repeat something 16 times because I can't catch it when it's said at a normal level.

Lastly, I feel overwhelmed when I'm in a place like that. All day I'm asking kids to stop talking; the last thing I want to do to relax is go and be on edge.

But still. I was out, with a friend, so things were good. I had a "Milk Stout" beer, which I'd never heard of until yesterday, and it was tasty. I had another. Jackie and I ordered the homemade potato chips with Gorgonzola... again with the tasty.

Then.

Melinda showed up. We had asked her if she wanted to join us earlier at school, and she said she might.

What she didn't tell us is that she might bring her husband.

Her evil, rotten-excuse-of-a-human-being husband.

I can't stand this man.

Loathe is too tame a word for how I feel about him.

It really does suck, since I do like Melinda. Just without him. All he does is drink and get mean. I swear, that's it.

He was already drunk last night when they showed up. He ordered a pitcher of beer, but because the glass (yes, he ordered a pitcher for himself), was a beat behind, just started drinking from the pitcher itself. Epitome of charm, that one.

Jackie and Melinda and I started talking about school, but he said we couldn't because it was so boring for him. Okay, so I asked if anyone had heard about the prank that turned into a terrorist scare in Boston... I had only heard a bit about it, so I really was asking if anyone knew what the deal was.

He then went off on me about being vague... as if I should only talk about those things I knew 100% about.

I won't bore you with the details of the next 45 minutes, but suffice it to say this man makes it his goal to bash on me whatever chance he gets. I don't know what I ever did to him. I was pretty close last night to screaming at him (I didn't). He gets loud, and being that he's 6'6", he's pretty damn intimidating.

Driving home, I thought about it. Standing up to him wouldn't have made anything better. I should have just smiled at him and sweetly asked him if he felt better about himself after mocking me. You know, that smile that says, "oh, you poor thing. You really have no confidence at all now, do you?"

Let it go rebekah, let it go.

Thirteen Thursday # 1:

Since I am shy about parts of my body, I’ve never chosen to be a part of HNT.

However, I’ve now discovered this:

It’s for the rest of us folk, who don’t get the “oh, you’re so hot!” comments when we post photos of ourselves.

Now I have a clique too.

13 Items in my Fridge:

Trader Joe’s Capers in Vinegar – so old I can’t remember the last time I used them

Lucerne low fat vanilla yogurt – best before Jan 07 07

Colors Eau De Toilette Vapo-spray (yeah, I keep perfume in there)

Three eggs - Jan 16 07

London Pub Steak & Chop Sauce - No date... what does that mean?

Smucker’s Simply 100% Fruit Boysenberry – best before Jan 2006

Holistic Select Natural Dog food, Tuna, Salmon & Shrimp flavor – best by Nov 17 09

Smart Ground Veggie Protein Crumbles, Taco/Burrito flavor – sell by Mar 14 2007

Trader Joe’s Middle Eastern Flatbread – there should be a date on it somewhere

Trader Joe’s Light Sour Cream – use by Feb 3 2007

Coffee-Mate Peppermint Mocha Creamer – sell by Mar 9 07

Saint Brendan’s Irish Cream Liqueur - isn't it great that alcohol doesn't go bad?

Stirrings Simple Tangerini Mix – Best by Oct 06

Yes, I’ve just come to the realization that it’s time to do some cleaning. The tangerini mix is the worst looking, even though it’s not yet been opened. There are lumpy things floating around in it.

Yet, see that my dog actually has the freshest food in the fridge. Telling, no?