DeadpanAnn (old blogger version)

I miss the days when I used to write creative, funny posts. Nowadays it ranges from what I had for breakfast to what ridiculous thing Tim and I spent money on to what crazy diet I'm trying to do.

Tonight I'm not feeling particularly creative, and I hafta cook something healthy, so there's not much time. So I thought I'd just ruin New Year's for everyone else by reminding you that it used to be celebrated in April, or on the first new moon after the first day of spring. It was spring, after all. Celebrating it in January didn't come along for a long time, and it was sorta by accident and means nothing. In fact, it doesn't even make sense. Look out your window. Do you see any signs of new beginnings out there? I don't. But if it were April? Ahh, there ya go.

Oh yeah. The Catholic church condemned New Year's Eve celebrations because they said it was a pagan holiday. But then those Catholics were always condemning something, weren't they? Such downers. No wonder they drank so much wine.

One last thing before I go pull this stick out of my ass--- Tomorrow's gonna be just the same as today.

Tim and I have finally decided to admit that the only way we know how to do things is full tilt. We're all about excess around here. It's not possible for us to do a thing in a reasonable way; the only way we can successfully make a change is to become obsessed.

We want to get healthy and lose weight. We have both lost lots of weight in the past only to regain every pound and go back to our old fat ass ways. Recently I had some success and lost about 20 pounds. According to the scales, I haven't gained all of it back, but I'm well on my way. I just can't keep doing something unless I think about it all the time and totally go nuts about it.

So we decided to start a health cult. We've gotta get brainwashed, so we're just gonna be totally fucking nuts about it and never compromise. I'm gonna pretend like it's my religion-- like eating a fried drumstick would send me to the very pits of Hell. No vile substances shall enter into this temple of mine. This very large temple.

As the lady of the house and the keeper of the kitchen, I am the leader of the health cult, and as my follower he has to eat whatever I put in front of him.

I'm dizzy with power. What shall I try first?

Labels: diary of a fat ass

If you are on birth control pills for many years and begin to consider getting off them, first you should find someone who has not been on them to remind you how much worse female events can be without the pill. That way you don't hafta wonder if maybe you're dying when it hits.

Looks like I'm not pregnant. Hmfh.

I slept until 2:00 p.m. today. I went to bed around 12:30 last night, got up at 6:30 to make Tim's lunch, and was back asleep by 8:00. I woke up at noon, figured I had nothing better to do, and went back to sleep for two more hours. At 2:00 I woke up in a huge puddle of drool, and felt so ashamed.

I'm blaming my really, really lazy day on the fact that I'm experiencing such mind numbingly intense menstrual symptoms.

Tim made me watch a really boring movie with him tonight. I almost fell asleep despite the fact that I shouldn't need to sleep again for a long time.

They say comedians are the saddest people. I say bad stand-up comedians are the saddest.

Our Christmas was fine. We went to Tim's sister's house on Christmas Eve, and I left from there and went directly to my mom's that night. I returned home yesterday with a car load of booty.

My mom and I got each other the same thing. My sister told me she wanted one of those digital picture frames, so I bought her one. She got me one too. It wasn't the same kind I got her, but still. I thought they were getting me a wireless router. Not sure where they got the idea for the picture frame. It's cool though. I ain't complaining.

They got Tim a digital camera, but he doesn't know it yet because he hasn't opened it. So I'm thinking maybe I can take the camera to work and take some pictures of my kids doing activities, then load them into the picture frame. They'd probably love to see it playing their pics in front of the activity table or some place where it won't be a distraction.

I got lots of other goodies too. I got a pretty necklace, some old antique books, a couple of new books, a coffee thermos from my aunt (not Aunt C), a few new towels, an SD card for my picture frame, a new pair of shoes from Tim, a Bible holder from Tim's sister (for my birthday) and some other stuff that I can't remember. Oh yeah-- Gramma gave me a gallon of hand soap, bless her senile heart. I didn't know they were coming and I didn't get her anything. Not that she'll remember.

Other than that, there's not much to tell. My mom's got a giant red cast on her left foot, and can barely get from the couch to the toilet. She's got weeks to go before it'll be back to normal, and probably a surgery between now and then. Thanks to the fact that we let our insurance companies make medical decisions for us, she's got to hobble around for 3 weeks before she can have the surgery. Because you know, even though the guy who went to medical school and has experience with this stuff says it needs surgery, there might be a miracle, and the bone might magically heal on its own. They wouldn't want to pay for the surgery now if they can put it off and cause someone to suffer a little while longer just in case.

In other news, I over ate. A lot.

Merry Christmas, folks. Who's gettin' something good?

Tonight we're going to Tim's sister's house for the get together. No presents will be given. Last year we drew names and had a $25 limit, but this year they didn't want to do it, so we're just gonna eat and visit.

After that's over, I'm leaving there and going straight to my parents' house tonight. Tim will not be going with me. He has to work on the 26th, and it's just too tiring to make such quick trips up there.

My family is too crazy to opt out of gift-giving just because of a little old thing like not having the money. Of course, there are kids too, and that changes everything. Maybe when me and Tim have a kid Christmas will be more lively. It was kinda boring with my family until my sister had her first one.

That pile of laundry is still on my bed. Gotta get it put away before I leave.

It's my birthday. I'm 29 and holding.

This morning when I woke up, there was a cake and some balloons on the table. Tim said he tried to get them to write "Happy 30th birthday, Ann" across the cake, but there wasn't room for the "30th" to fit because there were lots of icing roses on the top. He's lucky there wasn't room, or else there might not be room for him in the bed. He said he's still going to tell everyone it's my 30th birthday. Butthole.

I hope my kid has a normal birthday-- not a Christmas/birthday birthday, or a New Year's/birthday birthday, or a September 11th birthday or anything like that. My sister's birthday is June 16, and I've always thought that was a fine day to be born. It's just warm enough for pool parties, and school's out so all your friends can come over.

I'll be spending the day cleaning the kitchen. I neglected to do it yesterday, and this morning while I was making Tim's lunch a mouse ran across the counter right in front of me. He looked pretty fat, too, so I think he's been finding lots of crumbs in there. I'm going to clean the cabinets out completely and make sure there's nothing back there to encourage him. After today he's going to need to find another place to eat. Hopefully he'll check The Trap first. I hear the peanut butter's tasty there.

A few years ago I bought one of those bright ass lights that are used for treating SAD and sleep disorders. I haven't used it regularly in a long time, but I think I'm going to have to start sitting in front of it for two hours every morning. I can't figure out why I'm so tired, and less sunlight is the only thing I can think of. All day today I've dragged my ass, and I've been this way for a week or so. I thought it was just because I was tired from work, but last night I slept more than 8 hours and felt no better today. Actually, I felt like a million bucks at 8:30 this morning. I cooked breakfast for Tim while he got ready for work, and couldn't help but sing and dance in front of the stove-- and that was after only one cup of coffee. The energy lasted for about two hours, and since then it's been like having weights tied to my feet.

There was a long list of things I needed to get done, and I got less than half of it done. Fortunately I'm not going to work Monday, so it's not the typical weekend situation where I have to do it right away, but still. The kitchen is a total wreck, there's a five foot pile of clean, unfolded clothes on the floor by my bed, we have no groceries, the toilet paper supply is dangerously low, there are books piled on the pool table and I need to put them up somewhere, there's a "Goodwill" box in my trunk that's been there for three weeks...the list goes on.

Today wasn't a total waste. I did get some things done. All together, it was about two hours worth of actual movement spread out over an eleven hour period, and I'm spent. Spent I say. It's 7:00 and I'm ready for bed. I'm gonna go wrap some presents and see if there's anything good on t.v. Maybe I'll get a second wind. Actually, it would be my first wind.

Finally, I'm home free. It was an easy day at work. Only a few kids were there, and it was basically a matter of just holding them in the room between bells. We didn't do anything educational, even though I had planned something. They were sweet. They had all brought food, and they were sharing it with me and each other. They were giving gifts to each other, and I even got a couple of happy packages myself. One of my big football players even came and hugged me and said Merry Christmas. He's been a tough nut to crack, so I felt like that was monumental.

I love my kids.

I did attend the Christmas "party," though I would hardly call it that. It should be called a "fifty tired teachers crammed into a small space wondering when the hell they're going to start taking our damn orders already."

The fun people sat at the bar. I didn't, but I could hear them. I'm not sure if any lampshades were involved, as the librarian didn't show and I stuck to the unsweet tea. All in all it was a somewhat disappointing event.

One of the math teachers had her 6 month-ish old boy there, and he was a
keyyouuuuuuuuuuuuuteeeeeeee!!! I went and held him, and I swear it made my ovaries tingle.

After work I decided I'd better start Christmas shopping, so I ventured to the wild side of Hattiesburg. I was almost killed several times by crazy drivers, but I survived and managed to get gifts for my niece and nephew as well as something for Tim. I already have my dad's gift and know what I'm getting my mother, but I didn't track one down before I got tired and went home.

To say that I'm tired would be an understatement. I'm going to pass out before 9:00..... again.

My parents' anniversary is today. I think it's their 36th.

Labels: teacher life

Yesterday was a long, hard day. So long and so hard.

Okay this is where the people who got here by Googling "long" and "hard" realize it's not what they're looking for and back out, disappointed. Bye, pervs!

At the end of the day, I was so tired. It doesn't seem right that your day could be so exhausting that you'd be unable to walk a straight line at 4:30 in the afternoon, regardless of the fact that you got enough sleep and drank the standard two cups of coffee that morning.

Today? :sigh: I don't know. I'm kinda hoping lots of the kids will stay home today. Their tests are over, after all.

Tomorrow at 1:00, I'll be home free.

But they cannnnn be entertaining. I love it when someone makes up a story about a medical problem to cover up for missing work or flaking out on something. This is especially entertaining when the person has been particularly flaky and is in need of a brand new story, having exhausted all the classics. The stories aren't nearly as funny as the looks on people's faces as they struggle to play along. Next time I'm forced to hear one, I'm going to say, "You should just quit this job and write fiction."

(Hell, may as well get paid for it.)

My kids All the kids in the school are wired to the gills, and there's no real way to fight the chaos at this point. Friday is the last day. Actually, it's a half day. We work until noon, then we go to a restaurant where I have been assured that the librarian will have too much wine and give us something to talk about for the next year. Can't wait for that. Anyway, most of my students took their final exams yesterday. Only one class will be testing today. They're the most difficult class I've got, and I don't have a clue what I'm going to do with them on Thursday or Friday. They're generally older than most of the other students, yet they're the ones who seem to be the most distractable by an impending holiday, or any little change in routine for that matter. They think they're grown, and they're much more interested in each other than in anything I have to say. I could go in there with the bitchinest lesson plan on the planet and they would give me their best You're a fucking idiot, Mrs. Ann look. The little punks have mastered that look. They are really pissing me off.

Two and a half days until the break.

Have I mentioned that my birthday is Sunday? I guess I'm getting too old to look forward to it. To be honest, I don't really look forward to it. I keep reminding myself of it so maybe it'll seem significant. Maybe if I don't make such a big deal out of it nobody will know how old I am, and next year I can say 29 again.

This is hilarious. (I did one with my pic, but this one's funnier. It's my sister and her husband/kids.)

(This post may contain TMI.)

This morning I was reading a message board by women who have PCOS and are trying to conceive. For those of you who don't know, PCOS is Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome. With this condition, the body doesn't use sugar properly. Sugar causes insulin to flood the bloodstream and "feed back" to the ovaries, who then refuse to release eggs. Instead they form cysts and release too many of the wrong hormones. Those wrong hormones produce all kinds of unwanted effects and complicate the situation further. It's a real clusterfk. That's the short version, anyway.

The problem is that since gynecologists are the only people who ever explore your girl parts, they're the ones who usually end up diagnosing this disease. And the problem with that is that they don't know jack shit about the hormonal side of it, so they end up treating the symptoms and not the causes. If you want real treatment, you have to seek it out. Regardless of that, it shouldn't take a genius to read a snippet or two about the condition and figure out that sugar is poison to your reproductive system if you have this disease.

When I was reading on this message board, I saw posts by women who have been trying to get pregnant for months or years. They've seen fertility specialists, they've taken Clomid and more aggressive drugs, they've had the follicles on their ovaries measured. Some of them have gotten pregnant only to miscarry. I mean they're really putting themselves through a lot of crap to have kids.

Then I noticed that one of them had a "signature" that proclaimed her love for Dr. Pepper. Then I read a post by another woman who said that she has to drink only clear liquids for 24 hours before a certain medical procedure, and that it's gonna kill her because she loves her coffee. Hey, I'm drinking coffee as I type this, so I'm not throwing stones. But in the posts that followed, I learned that she packs it full of sugar. The more I read, the more blown away I was. Everyone chimed in about how much they love their Dr. Pepper, or their Mountain Dew. Not a single time was the word "DIET" mentioned. And there's a whole thread on Christmas snacks. Brownies. Cakes. Pies.

Here these women are undergoing extensive and invasive medical procedures to get pregnant, but their diets are full of sugar. What gives? Do they not know? You would think that with all the docs they're seeing, someone would've informed them by now.

Sometimes I think people enjoy their medical conditions. Some people seem to enjoy the suffering, the trips to the doctor, the disappointment of not being able to get pregnant--- in short, they like the attention.

Yesterday at the movies, I ate a bunch of popcorn. Then we went to a Mexican restaurant, where I may have ingested some rice. Reading about these stupid people has renewed my desire to avoid bad things at all costs. I hope I get knocked up right away so I can go back to that website and tell them how I did it-- by eating no sugar or refined breads, drinking no Dr. Pepper or sugary coffee drinks, eating no pie or brownies. In short, by not being an idiot.

People are stupid.

Labels: Good Old Fashioned Bitchin', I am not a hypochondriac, stupid people

My mom broke her foot, and broke it good. She can't walk for at least 3 weeks, and probably longer if they do surgery, which they will. The doctor said they don't expect it to heal on its own, but they have to give it three weeks or else the insurance won't pay for the surgery.

Tonight Tim and I went to see No Country for Old Men. I don't know what to say about it. The only word that comes to mind is unsatisfying. I felt like I had been navigating a maze for the last two hours, only to come to the end and have the promised cheese eaten in front of me. When the credits rolled, someone in the theater actually said, "That's the worst Coen brothers movie I've ever seen."

I have to work all week this week, all the way until noon on Friday. Then there's a Christmas party at a local restaurant, and we've been told that if we elect not to go to the party we have to stay at the school and work until 4:00. So I'll be going to the party.

My birthday is a week from today. That's Sunday, December 23. I'll accept gift cards, cash, or liquor.

I left my favorite to-go thermal coffee cup in the car for two weeks, and it's got mold in it. I soaked it in bleach water, washed it, and then put it in straight bleach, where it still is now. I'm a little scared to use it again but I'd hate to throw it away. What do you think? Bleach should kill the bad stuff, right?? RIGHT???

There are lesson plans to be written.

I have a dentist appointment today at 9:00, so I'm not going to work today until that's done. It's gonna suck to be at work with a numb face and/or sore mouth, but it beats having a toothache while on a cruise. The sad part is that this has been neglected for a year.

Last December I was sitting in front of the television when I suddenly realized that there was a huge chunk of my back tooth missing. Tim had just left Rite Aid to work at the hospital, and the insurance wasn't active yet. It didn't hurt, so I never got motivated to go to the dentist.

Well, that particular tooth still doesn't hurt, but there's another one that's got a cavity, and it does hurt. After what I dealt with yesterday, it occurred to me that it might be worth it to get it taken care of before the Christmas break.

Yesterday at work all of the forces in the universe aligned just perfectly to make me suffer. I had to proctor a mock MCT test. My allergies have been kickin', so I had taken an allergy medicine before work and I was sleepy. I was also wearing dress shoes because I didn't realize I'd have to walk around for 3 hours without a chance to sit down. I wasn't allowed to pee this whole time, which made me regret drinking those five cups of coffee before work-- even though I drank them because I was already so damn sleepy. Oh, and have I mentioned that my kids are cold natured as a Chiuaua in an ice storm? If it's lower than 75, they shiver. And since they were testing I had more compassion than usual and tried to keep them comfortable. To sum it up, I was sneezing, yawning, sweating, walking on achy feet with a full bladder. Just when I thought it couldn't suck any worse, my tooth went to aching. The test lasted 3 hours, but the entire day was pretty long yesterday. That's what happens when the morning starts out so crappy and the kids are in one of their weird moods for the rest of the day. OH! AND we had an English Department meeting after school, which lasted for an hour, so I didn't get off work until 5:15.

So going to the dentist will actually be an improvement over yesterday.

Last time I got a haircut was in July. The girl who normally does it is located on the other end of town, and it's hard to get an appointment with her on a Saturday, so I haven't been able to go since I started working. My hair has been getting on my nerves. Normally I wear it around shoulder length, but it had grown much longer than normal.

Yesterday I was out and about running errands when I found myself going in the opposite direction that I needed to go, so I swung into a parking lot to turn around. It happened to be the parking lot of a Supercuts. I figured I may as well just let them trim it. After all, it's $12.00 as opposed to the $40+ I normally pay. Forty bucks is a lot, but you never know what you're gonna get in a twelve dollar hair place. But I was there, so I could just let them shape it up a bit. You know, take an inch or so off until I could get to the other place.

When I walked in, I noticed that there were two stylists working. Both were African American ladies. In my past haircut encounters, three black ladies and one gay black man have cut my hair. All three of the ladies seemed to be afraid of it. They gave it a snip here and there, and when I left I couldn't tell it had been cut at all. (The man did okay. I like it when gay men do my hair.) I kinda wanted to go find a gay man somewhere, but as soon as I walked in the door one of the women greeted me, and I couldn't very well go, "Oh, I'm sorry. I was going to get my hair cut but since you're black I'm going elsewhere." So I signed the book and had a seat.

A few minutes later an old white lady came out of the back with a broom. Old white ladies are no good either. They like weird hair styles, and never understand what I'm asking them to do. The old white lady swept up the floor, then headed to the back again. A few minutes later she came out with her purse on her shoulder and said goodbye to the other two. As she was leaving, one of the ladies said, "Hey, did everyone else leave, or what?" Old white lady responded, "No, they weren't supposed to." She leaned out the door, and then stuck her head back in. "They're out there smoking cigarettes. I'll tell them you've got someone waiting." And she was gone.

Seconds later, in pranced the gayest man alive. Yes! I thought. A gay man! That's the ticket!

"Miss Ann??? Are you reddddday?"

While he cut my hair he sang along with the radio and made jokes and said things like, "Do you LUV it? I mean, do you LUV it??" in super-gay style.

Wow. A natural blonnnnnnde! I LUV it!
Thank you.
Are you from here?
No, I moved here from North Mississippi about six years ago.
Oh, wow! Do you LUV it?!?
Yeah, I like it here.
Greaaaaat!

He made me laugh, and he gave me a good haircut. (The forty dollar lady just lost a customer, I'm afraid.) I told him I just wanted it to be shaped up a bit, but he totally gave me something other than what I asked for, then said, "Well I guess I should have asked before I did that, but I LUV it!" I said that I thought it looked good. He spun me around in the chair, handed me a mirror, and said, "Do you like it?" I said I did like it, and he said, "Do you LUV it?" "Yeah. I LUV it!" "Oh Miss Ann I LIKE you! You're all laid back and like Whatever yeah let's do it!"

Yeah. That's me. LUV it!

Got a good evaluation today at work, along with some pats on the back for being awesome.

Yesterday at lunch several girls actually argued over who would get to sit next to me. Can you believe it? They usually scramble to find new seats when I sit down next to them. Then while I was sitting there thinking about how shitty the salad was, one of them said, "Mrs. DPA, it seems like when those new rules came, you got nice!" Another kid chimed in, "Sho did! I used to be like Man I gotta go up in Mrs. DPA's class! But now I like comin' to this class. We be havin' fun up in there now!"

That made my WEEK! (Made the salad seem better too.)

The best part is that I'm not just being nice. I'm working their little asses off. I went to a really good workshop last week and learned lots of new things about how to motivate them. When I got back, I came in guns blazing with some new rules and procedures. They don't even realize that they've done about 300% more work this week. They're too busy enjoying the structure. And the fact that I'm less stressed out, which I'm sure is why they think I'm being nicer.

I also got permission to miss the first day back after the break and the cruise. This means I can abandon my plan to call in exhausted that day. It's a professional development day, so it's not like they have to find a sub. It's gonna suck to not have that day to ease back into work, get my stuff ready, etc. Ya know what though? I ain't sweatin' it.

I'm gonna swim with dolphins. Swim. With dolphins.

That's right!

My sister and her sister-in-law (who we've known since we were 13ish) have been planning this cruise for a while now. Tonight they invited me to go with them. Since I'm only paying for the difference in what they paid and what it costs to add me, and since I'm off work (it's during Christmas break), and since Tim said it was cool, I happily agreed. (Tim isn't comfortable around water, so he'll never take me on one and doesn't feel like he's missing anything.)

This is gonna rock.

The boss calls a meeting to find out why morale is so low, but he ends up getting pissed and going off about every little thing that someone has done wrong recently, and when people leave they're feeling worse than before. After all, surely everyone isn't doing these things, and most of us don't even know exactly who the culprits are.

There's lots of juicy stuff happening at work right now. Lots of juicy stuff that I dare not blog about. It really sucks when the most bloggable events in your life are completely and totally unbloggable.

In other boring news, I've had a headache for twelve hours now, and my throat is sore. Sneezing is painful, but unavoidable. There have been lots of sick kids at work, and several sick teachers. I'm trying not to miss anymore days so I hope I'm not going to get really sick. Seems like when you notice in the afternoon that your throat is a little sore, you wake up truly sick the next morning. I took 3 days already, so I only have a few sick days and one personal day left. You never know what might happen. I might come down with a case of morning sickness, or suddenly have a reason to go to the doctor a lot.

My classes have been rockin' and rollin' lately. I've been pumped up and totally doing the teacher thing to the fullest. My kids are loving my class right now and I hope I can keep the momentum. It's hard to always be two steps ahead of them, but that's what works. They have a test tomorrow. I'm hopeful that the scores will be up this time. It's always a huge letdown when you get the scores back and they have sucked even harder than you previously imagined possible, and I always get a little discouraged and depressed but somehow renew my hope every time. (That hope is easier to find when you take a sick day, by the way.) This time if they suck, I'm not gonna get depressed. We're just gonna keep doing the same stuff until they get it, dammit. Who cares if I get behind? It doesn't much matter how closely we follow the schedule if they're not really learning anything.

Now I gotta go to bed and imagine all the funny things I could've said about that unbloggable stuff.

Today's primary task was to clean our nasty house. We got a lot done, but we stopped early because we wanted to take both of the motorcycles up to our place in Covington County so I could practice riding on some empty country roads. We live at the end of a dead end road, so I'd been riding up and down our street. Unfortunately, the old hag down the road came out onto her porch to give me the evil eye, and we were afraid she was going to call the cops. My bike is insanely loud. Tim loaded it onto the trailer and I was going to pull it while he followed on his bike, but I got nervous when it started bouncing around and chickened out. Instead of going up to C.Co., Tim drove it up the highway to an empty parking lot and I followed in his car. I rode it in that parking lot for a while. Then I got up the nerve and I drove it home. It was fkn awesome. I only drove it like two miles, but it was so much fun. I can't wait to ride it again, but I'm still not legal and don't have insurance.

Remember the new oven we bought six months ago? The oven we paid $700 for after spending $100 on a used one that blew up? THIS ONE?? Well, it decided to quit working. I was going to cook a delicious meatloaf today. After waiting for about 15 minutes for the oven to preheat, I went to see why it hadn't beeped yet. It was stone cold inside the oven. It isn't heating at all. The stove top still works, so I fried the meatloaf.

I've got lesson plans to do.

Labels: this house is trying to kill me