Heyas,
Well, one of these days curiosity is going to get me into some serious trouble. You know that saying, "a friend will come and bail you out of jail...a real friend will be sitting next to you in the cell going 'that was so awesome!'"??? Yeah, I'd totally be the friend sitting next to you. It's a shame I'm not more inclined to science, 'cause I think I would have been fairly good at the whole experiment thing. What has this Elf gotten herself into, you ask?
Known Donors on the Internet.
Now, I'm not actually going to use one...may be fine for some people, but I just couldn't even begin to get to a place where I'd be comfortable with something like that. But one of the boards I was talking on, one of the women mentioned that she and her husband were ttc with a known donor they'd found, and some other people were chiming in about how they'd found KD's on the internet, and I'm all 'nah, surely not.'
And because I really can't resist the urge to poke at a hornet's nest, I whip out my Google-fu, and like two minutes later, I have a whole list of sites where I can find guys willing to donate their sperm for free. Okay, yeah, my interest was piqued for like half a second. I'm a teacher! I'm on a budget, here. ;) But dude! These guys were creeeeeeeepppppyyyyyy...it's all "I'm willing to do AI, but as a man I'm sure you understand I'd prefer to deliver it 'naturally.'"
And I'm like, cripes, are there not easier methods of getting no-strings-attached sex?
Some of the guys that were posting seemed nice enough...the ones that were posting that they'd only do AI actually seemed okay...but for every one of those there were, like, ten with handles like impregnateyourwife@ blah-di-blah-di-dah
*shudder*
One more day of state tests to go, and then the real fun begins. Fun being a whole week with hyperactive kids that know we have to turn our grades in at the beginning of June. Now, I have a great relationship with most of my students, but there are a few hardcore cases that hate my guts and to be frank, I will be happy not to have to deal with again come June 10th. Those children delight in looking at us and going "what're you gonna do to me?" and then turning out like no one's business.
Granted, I answer by kicking their butts to the office with a referral for insuboordination and disruption, but yeesh...it's more stress I don't need. Still, I console myself with the fact that the vast majority of my babies I will miss terribly. Que sera sera.
Heading a few towns over this weekend to finish the very last piece of my National Board attempt. For those of you not in education, National Boards is like the Olympics of teaching. You spend a whole school year putting together a portfoilio of student work, videos, writeups, etc and send it off to be judged and analyzed within an inch of its life and sometime next year I'll get a little letter that says if I'm one of the top teachers in the country or not.
No pressure, of course.
I don't think I'm gonna make it this year, but I think I'll do okay on most of my entries, and the ones I do poorly on I can re-do next year and re-submit...much easier to concentrate on one entry than four, you know? But the last part I'm doing is a test of general knowledge of my subject. Since I teacher Social Studies/History, that pretty much means they can ask me anything about the entire history of the Earth and civilization. The practice questions? Spanned about three thousand years.
Now, I'm no slouch in the general knowledge department, if I do say so myself. I'm well read and well traveled, and my dad had dragged us to every Civil War monument/battle field east of the Mississippi by the time I was eight. But still...any point in history they can ask me about. 'Tis nerve wracking. So please, send me a few good vibes early Saturday morning, if you are so inclined. I could use all the help I can get. I'm hoping that I've built up enough good karma that I can catch a break and get a really high score on the test, which would off-set any low scores I get on the portfolio entry I'm not too happy with...but we shall see.
Things Elfgirl is looking forward to: according to my cell phone countdown, I have 51 days until I start trying for the Imp (approximately). Squeeeeeeeeeeee!
Things currently annoying the crap out of her: nothing, really. I'm in a pretty happy place right now :)
Pretty boy of the moment: David Tennant...'cause it's all about the hair.
May 28, 2008
Hooray! AF came! She came! She ca...ow! Oh, oh ooooouuuuuccccchhhhhh!
Heyas,
So, as you may have garnered from the title, my period finally showed up...on CD 40. A week late. Yeesh, bee-atch, don't be pullin' this stuff while I'm trying for the Imp, okay? You either show up right the hell on time, or you stay away for the next year or more, capsice?
So, yeah, cramping like a (insert sufficiently vile and crass curse word of choice) and the Midol hasn't kicked in yet. Note to self...my body doesn't seem to like Vitex. Doing good on the Evening Primrose Oil, but I think I'm laying off other herbals. If the Imp doesn't make himself or herself at home in my belly this summer, we'll revisit, but as much as I love the green ways, one of the first laws is 'listen to your body.' And my body ain't having some of this stuff right now. Fair enough.
So, yeah, somebody needs to come to my house and talk me out of trying to have a home birth.
I was watching "The Business of Being Born" today (found it in my Netflix 'instant watch' section and remembered it being mentioned on the NW boards) and found myself nodding and smiling with the midwives and the stories about having a baby at home. And apart from the whole kettle of fish of taking any kind of advice from Ricki Lake, there's the fact that I really shouldn't get attached to an idea that is not likely to be practical for me.
I'm pretty sure I'm gonna be slotted as a high-risk pregnancy. I'm really quite healthy, all things considered, but I am rather significantly overweight and there are a lot of diabetes problems in my family (so far, my blood sugar, pressure, and cholesterol have remained perfectly normal, but yeah, long-term weight loss is a huge goal for me). Add to that the fact that all of my pop-poke-n-scrape doctors have commented on the rather narrow nature of my pelvic region and the fact that neither my mother nor any of my aunts were ever able to deliver vaginally, and I think I have a pretty good chance of being in the 'medically necessary' regions of C-section-ville. Joy. Oh, don't get me wrong, I'm going hell for leather for a vaginal birth...but I really would feel safer at a hospital. C'est la vie.
The things I'm gonna do for you, Imp. And all with a smile on my face.
Other than that, not much going on...started our official end-of-year state testing today. That's always fun. Two and a half hours of literally sitting and staring at my students as they take a test. Can't read, can't grade papers, can't surf the net, can't do anything but watch them. 'Cause the instant I take my eyes off of them, they're going to cheat! And then how will we be able to tell if they're learning anything?! 'Cause everyone knows the true measure of learning is how well they can parrot back facts on a piece of paper filled with questions geared towards middle-class or well-to-do white kids.
Can you sense the sarcasm?
This Elf doesn't like state testing. Or really, any kind of testing. Oh, standardized testing in general is okay...it does pay to have a baseline from which you can make comparisons. I just hate this high stakes crap with the burning intensity of a thousand suns. It essentially boils down to "We're going to ask you kids a ton of questions that don't take anything like cultural background, life experience, or socioeconomic status into account to see if they can read. And if they can't? We're going to take away all the money you use for books, supplies, and field trip experiences until they can!" And it's SUCH a crock! You know what? I'm sorry...my black kids from the 'hood are just as smart as my white kids from the million dollar houses on the other side of town, but guess what? My black kids from the 'hood haven't been exposed to dead English poets and most of them have never been out of the county, let alone to another country...how the hell are they supposed to make inferences that are completely out of their frame of reference? It's just wrong. You want No Child Left Behind, there, W? Start helping us make education fair for everyone.
*calmly steps off the soapbox that is starting to get rather high*
So, yeah, I don't like state tests.
Things Elfgirl is looking forward to: June's visit from AF...'cause that's the last one before I start trying for the Imp!
Things currently annoying the crap out of her: cat hair. Seriously, do you know how hard it is to keep shedding from three long hair cats under control?
Pretty boy of the moment: Milo Ventimiglia. Yay, Heroes is back soon!
So, as you may have garnered from the title, my period finally showed up...on CD 40. A week late. Yeesh, bee-atch, don't be pullin' this stuff while I'm trying for the Imp, okay? You either show up right the hell on time, or you stay away for the next year or more, capsice?
So, yeah, cramping like a (insert sufficiently vile and crass curse word of choice) and the Midol hasn't kicked in yet. Note to self...my body doesn't seem to like Vitex. Doing good on the Evening Primrose Oil, but I think I'm laying off other herbals. If the Imp doesn't make himself or herself at home in my belly this summer, we'll revisit, but as much as I love the green ways, one of the first laws is 'listen to your body.' And my body ain't having some of this stuff right now. Fair enough.
So, yeah, somebody needs to come to my house and talk me out of trying to have a home birth.
I was watching "The Business of Being Born" today (found it in my Netflix 'instant watch' section and remembered it being mentioned on the NW boards) and found myself nodding and smiling with the midwives and the stories about having a baby at home. And apart from the whole kettle of fish of taking any kind of advice from Ricki Lake, there's the fact that I really shouldn't get attached to an idea that is not likely to be practical for me.
I'm pretty sure I'm gonna be slotted as a high-risk pregnancy. I'm really quite healthy, all things considered, but I am rather significantly overweight and there are a lot of diabetes problems in my family (so far, my blood sugar, pressure, and cholesterol have remained perfectly normal, but yeah, long-term weight loss is a huge goal for me). Add to that the fact that all of my pop-poke-n-scrape doctors have commented on the rather narrow nature of my pelvic region and the fact that neither my mother nor any of my aunts were ever able to deliver vaginally, and I think I have a pretty good chance of being in the 'medically necessary' regions of C-section-ville. Joy. Oh, don't get me wrong, I'm going hell for leather for a vaginal birth...but I really would feel safer at a hospital. C'est la vie.
The things I'm gonna do for you, Imp. And all with a smile on my face.
Other than that, not much going on...started our official end-of-year state testing today. That's always fun. Two and a half hours of literally sitting and staring at my students as they take a test. Can't read, can't grade papers, can't surf the net, can't do anything but watch them. 'Cause the instant I take my eyes off of them, they're going to cheat! And then how will we be able to tell if they're learning anything?! 'Cause everyone knows the true measure of learning is how well they can parrot back facts on a piece of paper filled with questions geared towards middle-class or well-to-do white kids.
Can you sense the sarcasm?
This Elf doesn't like state testing. Or really, any kind of testing. Oh, standardized testing in general is okay...it does pay to have a baseline from which you can make comparisons. I just hate this high stakes crap with the burning intensity of a thousand suns. It essentially boils down to "We're going to ask you kids a ton of questions that don't take anything like cultural background, life experience, or socioeconomic status into account to see if they can read. And if they can't? We're going to take away all the money you use for books, supplies, and field trip experiences until they can!" And it's SUCH a crock! You know what? I'm sorry...my black kids from the 'hood are just as smart as my white kids from the million dollar houses on the other side of town, but guess what? My black kids from the 'hood haven't been exposed to dead English poets and most of them have never been out of the county, let alone to another country...how the hell are they supposed to make inferences that are completely out of their frame of reference? It's just wrong. You want No Child Left Behind, there, W? Start helping us make education fair for everyone.
*calmly steps off the soapbox that is starting to get rather high*
So, yeah, I don't like state tests.
Things Elfgirl is looking forward to: June's visit from AF...'cause that's the last one before I start trying for the Imp!
Things currently annoying the crap out of her: cat hair. Seriously, do you know how hard it is to keep shedding from three long hair cats under control?
Pretty boy of the moment: Milo Ventimiglia. Yay, Heroes is back soon!
May 26, 2008
Tag, I'm...It?
Heyas,
Woohoo, first tag. *wipes away tear* I feel like I'm really blogging with the big kids, now. Soon, I'll be posting ridiculous quizzes, and darting into other blogs with "First!" posts and...
Oh, wait...no I won't. 'Cause that behavior irritates the bejeezus out of me! ;)
I do quite like memes like this, though...it's fun to get to 'know' other people I cyberstalk...er, I mean, follow the blogs of.
The rules: Each player answers the questions about themselves. At the end of the post, the player then tags 5-6 people and posts their names, then goes to their blogs and leaves them a comment, letting them know they’ve been tagged and asking them to read your blog. Let the person who tagged you know when you’ve posted your answer.
1. What was I doing 10 years ago?
Hmmm, 1998. Well, that was the year before I graduated high school, if that tells you anything. Actually, I did post-secondary options in high school, which meant that I took all of my classes at a local university for both high school and college credit. In May of 1998, I was sweating over my chem final ('cause yeah, numbers and science-type stuff kicks my kiester six ways to Sunday), locking my keys in my car with disturbing regularity (fortunately, I had a 1972 Dodge, so breaking in was ridiculously easy), and applying for summer jobs in town.
2. What are five (non-work) things on my to-do list today?
Grocery shopping, laundry, scrub the bathroom floor, scoop the catboxes, call my friend J. Granted, I'm sitting here doing a meme instead of getting any of that accomplished...but it's on my to-do list!
3. Snacks I enjoy:
Ben and Jerry's, pretty much any flavor (not so much a snack as a diet-destroying, willpower-withering, pint-sized cup of delicious glee...but whatever)
Green grapes
Pringles select Parmesan-Garlic flavor (see Ben and Jerry qualifier)
strawberries
I really hope the Imp introduces some more healthy snacks to me via cravings...it's no fun having to so stringently limit my intake of my favorite snacks.
4. Things I would do if I were a billionaire:
Pay off my family's bills, houses, cars, etc.
Pay off my sisters' student loans
Pay off MY student loans
Take a world cruise
Find everyone on the NW board and fund their ttc attempts 'til they got their babies
International adoption
Donate computers, Smartboards, laptops, and LCD projectors to as many schools as I could afford
Take my students to Disneyworld
Take my family to Disneyworld
5. Places I have lived:
Hoo boy...former Marine brat, so be warned:
North Carolina, Alabama, Maryland, Japan, Texas, North Carolina again, Ohio, Nevada (yes, in Vegas...two blocks from the strip), North Carolina again, and hoping to move back to Ohio after the Imp is born.
6. Jobs I have had:
Summer school assisant
McDonald's minion
English/Language Arts tutor (yes, at age 16 and 17 in the university I took post secondary ops in...that went over well with the students I was tutoring)
Summer school teacher's aide
Summer janitor
Arby's minion
College snack bar minion
Wendy's minion
Local pool snack bar minion
Lunch lady...er, "cafeteria manager"
Teacher
Um...for the record, I never got fired from any of those jobs...I just move around a lot.
7. Peeps I want to know more about:
Faith
dreambaby
Cypher
er....everyone else has already been tagged with this!
Lovies,
Elfgirl
Woohoo, first tag. *wipes away tear* I feel like I'm really blogging with the big kids, now. Soon, I'll be posting ridiculous quizzes, and darting into other blogs with "First!" posts and...
Oh, wait...no I won't. 'Cause that behavior irritates the bejeezus out of me! ;)
I do quite like memes like this, though...it's fun to get to 'know' other people I cyberstalk...er, I mean, follow the blogs of.
The rules: Each player answers the questions about themselves. At the end of the post, the player then tags 5-6 people and posts their names, then goes to their blogs and leaves them a comment, letting them know they’ve been tagged and asking them to read your blog. Let the person who tagged you know when you’ve posted your answer.
1. What was I doing 10 years ago?
Hmmm, 1998. Well, that was the year before I graduated high school, if that tells you anything. Actually, I did post-secondary options in high school, which meant that I took all of my classes at a local university for both high school and college credit. In May of 1998, I was sweating over my chem final ('cause yeah, numbers and science-type stuff kicks my kiester six ways to Sunday), locking my keys in my car with disturbing regularity (fortunately, I had a 1972 Dodge, so breaking in was ridiculously easy), and applying for summer jobs in town.
2. What are five (non-work) things on my to-do list today?
Grocery shopping, laundry, scrub the bathroom floor, scoop the catboxes, call my friend J. Granted, I'm sitting here doing a meme instead of getting any of that accomplished...but it's on my to-do list!
3. Snacks I enjoy:
Ben and Jerry's, pretty much any flavor (not so much a snack as a diet-destroying, willpower-withering, pint-sized cup of delicious glee...but whatever)
Green grapes
Pringles select Parmesan-Garlic flavor (see Ben and Jerry qualifier)
strawberries
I really hope the Imp introduces some more healthy snacks to me via cravings...it's no fun having to so stringently limit my intake of my favorite snacks.
4. Things I would do if I were a billionaire:
Pay off my family's bills, houses, cars, etc.
Pay off my sisters' student loans
Pay off MY student loans
Take a world cruise
Find everyone on the NW board and fund their ttc attempts 'til they got their babies
International adoption
Donate computers, Smartboards, laptops, and LCD projectors to as many schools as I could afford
Take my students to Disneyworld
Take my family to Disneyworld
5. Places I have lived:
Hoo boy...former Marine brat, so be warned:
North Carolina, Alabama, Maryland, Japan, Texas, North Carolina again, Ohio, Nevada (yes, in Vegas...two blocks from the strip), North Carolina again, and hoping to move back to Ohio after the Imp is born.
6. Jobs I have had:
Summer school assisant
McDonald's minion
English/Language Arts tutor (yes, at age 16 and 17 in the university I took post secondary ops in...that went over well with the students I was tutoring)
Summer school teacher's aide
Summer janitor
Arby's minion
College snack bar minion
Wendy's minion
Local pool snack bar minion
Lunch lady...er, "cafeteria manager"
Teacher
Um...for the record, I never got fired from any of those jobs...I just move around a lot.
7. Peeps I want to know more about:
Faith
dreambaby
Cypher
er....everyone else has already been tagged with this!
Lovies,
Elfgirl
Why Yes, Friend, I AM Just A Little Crazy...
Heyas,
So. I have come to a conclusion. Somewhere, in the annals and pedigrees of nearly every recipe in the UK, no matter what they are, are the words "I dare you to eat..." That is the only explanation for some of the things that grace the tables as traditional cuisine over in Europe. Seriously. Blood pudding? Haggis? Laverbread?
For the unfamiliar, those are fried puddings in which blood is a main ingredient, oats and vegetables boiled in a sheep's stomach, and small cakes made of seaweed paste and oats and fried in bacon fat, respectively. Dares. Only explanation.
And as I am genuinely not racist, ethnocentrist, nor the stereotypical "Ugly American" I do fully acknowledge that some of America's finer contributions to the world of food most likely have the exact same pedigree. There really can't be any other reason for cucumbers pickled in Kool-aid or our propensity for taking average, everyday snack foods, dipping them in batter, and then deep-frying them.
Although, I have to admit that the deep fried Snickers bar with vanilla ice cream is pretty much an orgasm in your mouth. I can practically hear my arteries clogging with every bite...but they are yummy.
Any road, how did I arrive at this fascinating conclusion? And why am I wasting precious brain cells thinking of such things? Well, I really have no answer for the second question, but as to the first....eh, fanfiction. More precisely, Torchwood fanfiction. Torchwood fanfiction of the particularly fluffy variety wherein the author has Jack acting all romantic and domesticated with Ianto and making him breakfast in bed complete with traditional Welsh dishes. And so, I was introduced to the concept of Laverbread.
Yes, the canon slash is rather a big draw for me with Torchwood. I really hope they develop the relationship between Jack and Ianto in season three.
I'm also trying to get up the urge to do housework. My apartment desperately needs some spring cleaning...mopping, scrubbing, dusting, Windex-ing. I subscribe to the "clean enough to be healthy, dirty enough to be happy" school of thought on housecleaning, but yeah, the cat hair has gotten out of control and I need to scrub the mineral ring in the toilet again. *sigh*
AF still a no-show on CD 39. Though I am having some of the lower-abdominal cramping that sometimes signals her arrival. The longest I've ever gone between periods is 44 days and that only happens once a year or so, so I'm not terribly worried. Like I said, stress, sickness, and new herbals is probably messing with my cycle. Hopefully, June will be smoother and then July will be the big insem.
On that front, I've decided not to tell my family that I'm going ahead with the insem in July. Maybe my sister, but she has a hard time keeping things from our mother. Oh, not for any shady reasons or that I think anyone would have a negative reaction (well, scratch that, Mom would freak out over the possibility of me being pregnant in Africa)...but really for personal reasons. I don't know why I'm so adamant about trying for the Imp this summer...logic really does dictate that I should wait until after I'm back from Africa, or even next year. But something in my heart tells me that now's the time. That if I start listing all the reasons I should wait, there's always going to be a reason to wait. That my Imp is waiting to come to me, and wants to be with me soon. I learned a long time ago to listen to these feelings when I get them this strongly. They've never steered me wrong. They've steered me down hard paths, and complicated paths, and paths that I would've never taken if I stopped to think about it...but I've never regretted going with my gut.
We shall see, Imp, we shall see.
Things Elfgirl is currently looking forward to: going home for the summer!
Things currently annoying the crap out of her: the all around refusal of the house to clean itself!
Pretty boy of the moment: Jack and Ianto. They may be fictional, but the boys that play them are gorgeous, and the characters are just neat.
So. I have come to a conclusion. Somewhere, in the annals and pedigrees of nearly every recipe in the UK, no matter what they are, are the words "I dare you to eat..." That is the only explanation for some of the things that grace the tables as traditional cuisine over in Europe. Seriously. Blood pudding? Haggis? Laverbread?
For the unfamiliar, those are fried puddings in which blood is a main ingredient, oats and vegetables boiled in a sheep's stomach, and small cakes made of seaweed paste and oats and fried in bacon fat, respectively. Dares. Only explanation.
And as I am genuinely not racist, ethnocentrist, nor the stereotypical "Ugly American" I do fully acknowledge that some of America's finer contributions to the world of food most likely have the exact same pedigree. There really can't be any other reason for cucumbers pickled in Kool-aid or our propensity for taking average, everyday snack foods, dipping them in batter, and then deep-frying them.
Although, I have to admit that the deep fried Snickers bar with vanilla ice cream is pretty much an orgasm in your mouth. I can practically hear my arteries clogging with every bite...but they are yummy.
Any road, how did I arrive at this fascinating conclusion? And why am I wasting precious brain cells thinking of such things? Well, I really have no answer for the second question, but as to the first....eh, fanfiction. More precisely, Torchwood fanfiction. Torchwood fanfiction of the particularly fluffy variety wherein the author has Jack acting all romantic and domesticated with Ianto and making him breakfast in bed complete with traditional Welsh dishes. And so, I was introduced to the concept of Laverbread.
Yes, the canon slash is rather a big draw for me with Torchwood. I really hope they develop the relationship between Jack and Ianto in season three.
I'm also trying to get up the urge to do housework. My apartment desperately needs some spring cleaning...mopping, scrubbing, dusting, Windex-ing. I subscribe to the "clean enough to be healthy, dirty enough to be happy" school of thought on housecleaning, but yeah, the cat hair has gotten out of control and I need to scrub the mineral ring in the toilet again. *sigh*
AF still a no-show on CD 39. Though I am having some of the lower-abdominal cramping that sometimes signals her arrival. The longest I've ever gone between periods is 44 days and that only happens once a year or so, so I'm not terribly worried. Like I said, stress, sickness, and new herbals is probably messing with my cycle. Hopefully, June will be smoother and then July will be the big insem.
On that front, I've decided not to tell my family that I'm going ahead with the insem in July. Maybe my sister, but she has a hard time keeping things from our mother. Oh, not for any shady reasons or that I think anyone would have a negative reaction (well, scratch that, Mom would freak out over the possibility of me being pregnant in Africa)...but really for personal reasons. I don't know why I'm so adamant about trying for the Imp this summer...logic really does dictate that I should wait until after I'm back from Africa, or even next year. But something in my heart tells me that now's the time. That if I start listing all the reasons I should wait, there's always going to be a reason to wait. That my Imp is waiting to come to me, and wants to be with me soon. I learned a long time ago to listen to these feelings when I get them this strongly. They've never steered me wrong. They've steered me down hard paths, and complicated paths, and paths that I would've never taken if I stopped to think about it...but I've never regretted going with my gut.
We shall see, Imp, we shall see.
Things Elfgirl is currently looking forward to: going home for the summer!
Things currently annoying the crap out of her: the all around refusal of the house to clean itself!
Pretty boy of the moment: Jack and Ianto. They may be fictional, but the boys that play them are gorgeous, and the characters are just neat.
May 24, 2008
It NEEDS To Be June 10th
Heyas,
Why, you ask, does it need to be June 10th? Because I am so far beyond stressed the light of stressed is taking thousands of years to reach me. I can always tell how late in the school year it is by the length of my fingernails. Beginning of the year? Neatly filed, shaped, maybe even polished...very ladylike, if I do say so. End of year? Ragged, uneven, and bitten to the quick in some cases. *shrugs* It's one of my little stress foibles. I chew on my nails. I have not gotten to the point where I'm drawing blood, but a few of them are close.
Yes, I'm aware that an oral fixation that intense is probably sign of some kind of obsessive-compulsive disorder, but it's not as bad as it could be and nothing's gotten infected, so I'm just going with it.
I think, though, that I'm rather lucky I don't like the taste of alcohol ;)
Nah, seriously, I love my job. I really do. I love my kids and I enjoy working with them. If I hit the lottery tomorrow, I would still want to teach (although, maybe after a prolonged break in the Bahamas). Just, you know...at the end of the year, things get a little hectic. And when you're dealing with close to a hundred eleven-to-fourteen year olds on a daily basis, "a little hectic" can get downright scary. I'm always happy to be back, but yeah, around this time of year, I start looking forward to seeing the backs of 'em.
Went to my friend D's house today and helped her haul around giant pieces of wood, cut them down to six foot pieces, and stack them up for her to use in flower beds. I'm not handy with power tools at all and I find rooting around in the dirt to be immensely unsatisfying, but I can fetch, carry, and haul with the best of them. I used to work as a janitor in my high school during the summers, getting the building ready for the coming year (hehe, in one form or another, I have been working in schools since I was 14...tutor, teacher's assisant, janitor, lunch lady, teacher...it was just meant to be), and my nickname was "The Human Forklift."
Probably lucky I didn't give myself a hernia. I get a little over-focused when I'm doing manual labor.
Case in point, didn't bother to stop for a water break or two whilst working and so got overheated and threw up in D's yard. Let me tell you, peanut butter-flavored bile? Sooooo nasty. But that was the only little hiccup. We went out for pizza afterwards and had a fabulous time. I love hanging out with D, she's one of the few people I've met who really gets me on all levels. she's also one of the few people in my life that I regularly talk to about my ttc plans...I kind of try to avoid the topic around her 'cause I don't want to yammer her head off, but when she brings it up...hey, I'll talk 'til the cows come home.
On the ttc front...sooooooo frustrated. I'm currently on CD 37. Of a 31-32 day cycle. AF is way overdue and it's starting to irritate me. My cycles are pretty regular, so of course, the month before I start trying for my Imp, my cycle goes screwy?
Still, I am pretty stressed out this month, I did get sick right around my O date, and I've started evening primrose oil and Fertilitea (which has Vitex in it, which can screw with cycles) this month, so I guess I shouldn't be surprised. Still, need to make a conscious effort to relax this summer and let the herbal magic do its job.
Huh...isn't "working hard" to relax kind of counter-intuitive? Oh well.
In other news: Indiana. Jones. For. The. WIN!!!!
Oh my GOD that was awesome. All those lukewarm reviews were just being ridiculous. Indy's still got it, and Marion is still made of awesome, and Shia Lebouf has come a long way from his Disney days. I love, love, LOVED it.
And now I want to name my child Indiana. Must...resist....temptation.
I guess it's kind of silly to get that worked up over a movie...especially considering the first one came out the year I was born...but I love this stuff. Star Wars, Lord of the Rings, Star Trek, Dr. Who...doesn't matter that most of them are before my time...I get just as much nostalgia factor as the older fans. Fun, fun, FUN time...and I didn't even mind the somewhat cheesy story.
I mean, okay, all the Indy flicks have a certain amount of cheese-factor...but this tested even my Trekified suspension of disbelief abilities. And trust me, ain't nothing tests your ability to suspend disbelief like Star Trek. But I don't care...loved it. Love, love, loved it!
Imp, you had better be a sci-fi/fantasy geek, my sweet. 'Cause if you aren't, you're in for a very unhappy childhood. ;)
Things Elfgirl is looking forward to: June 10th. Obviously.
Things currently annoying the crap out of her: 6th graders. Sorry babes, love you like you were my own...but yeah, I think we need some personal space so I can remember why I love you like you were my own.
Pretty boy of the moment: Shia Lebouf. In a kind of half-hunky/half-geeky kind of way. Still, I wouldn't toss him out of bed for eating crackers. :)
Why, you ask, does it need to be June 10th? Because I am so far beyond stressed the light of stressed is taking thousands of years to reach me. I can always tell how late in the school year it is by the length of my fingernails. Beginning of the year? Neatly filed, shaped, maybe even polished...very ladylike, if I do say so. End of year? Ragged, uneven, and bitten to the quick in some cases. *shrugs* It's one of my little stress foibles. I chew on my nails. I have not gotten to the point where I'm drawing blood, but a few of them are close.
Yes, I'm aware that an oral fixation that intense is probably sign of some kind of obsessive-compulsive disorder, but it's not as bad as it could be and nothing's gotten infected, so I'm just going with it.
I think, though, that I'm rather lucky I don't like the taste of alcohol ;)
Nah, seriously, I love my job. I really do. I love my kids and I enjoy working with them. If I hit the lottery tomorrow, I would still want to teach (although, maybe after a prolonged break in the Bahamas). Just, you know...at the end of the year, things get a little hectic. And when you're dealing with close to a hundred eleven-to-fourteen year olds on a daily basis, "a little hectic" can get downright scary. I'm always happy to be back, but yeah, around this time of year, I start looking forward to seeing the backs of 'em.
Went to my friend D's house today and helped her haul around giant pieces of wood, cut them down to six foot pieces, and stack them up for her to use in flower beds. I'm not handy with power tools at all and I find rooting around in the dirt to be immensely unsatisfying, but I can fetch, carry, and haul with the best of them. I used to work as a janitor in my high school during the summers, getting the building ready for the coming year (hehe, in one form or another, I have been working in schools since I was 14...tutor, teacher's assisant, janitor, lunch lady, teacher...it was just meant to be), and my nickname was "The Human Forklift."
Probably lucky I didn't give myself a hernia. I get a little over-focused when I'm doing manual labor.
Case in point, didn't bother to stop for a water break or two whilst working and so got overheated and threw up in D's yard. Let me tell you, peanut butter-flavored bile? Sooooo nasty. But that was the only little hiccup. We went out for pizza afterwards and had a fabulous time. I love hanging out with D, she's one of the few people I've met who really gets me on all levels. she's also one of the few people in my life that I regularly talk to about my ttc plans...I kind of try to avoid the topic around her 'cause I don't want to yammer her head off, but when she brings it up...hey, I'll talk 'til the cows come home.
On the ttc front...sooooooo frustrated. I'm currently on CD 37. Of a 31-32 day cycle. AF is way overdue and it's starting to irritate me. My cycles are pretty regular, so of course, the month before I start trying for my Imp, my cycle goes screwy?
Still, I am pretty stressed out this month, I did get sick right around my O date, and I've started evening primrose oil and Fertilitea (which has Vitex in it, which can screw with cycles) this month, so I guess I shouldn't be surprised. Still, need to make a conscious effort to relax this summer and let the herbal magic do its job.
Huh...isn't "working hard" to relax kind of counter-intuitive? Oh well.
In other news: Indiana. Jones. For. The. WIN!!!!
Oh my GOD that was awesome. All those lukewarm reviews were just being ridiculous. Indy's still got it, and Marion is still made of awesome, and Shia Lebouf has come a long way from his Disney days. I love, love, LOVED it.
And now I want to name my child Indiana. Must...resist....temptation.
I guess it's kind of silly to get that worked up over a movie...especially considering the first one came out the year I was born...but I love this stuff. Star Wars, Lord of the Rings, Star Trek, Dr. Who...doesn't matter that most of them are before my time...I get just as much nostalgia factor as the older fans. Fun, fun, FUN time...and I didn't even mind the somewhat cheesy story.
I mean, okay, all the Indy flicks have a certain amount of cheese-factor...but this tested even my Trekified suspension of disbelief abilities. And trust me, ain't nothing tests your ability to suspend disbelief like Star Trek. But I don't care...loved it. Love, love, loved it!
Imp, you had better be a sci-fi/fantasy geek, my sweet. 'Cause if you aren't, you're in for a very unhappy childhood. ;)
Things Elfgirl is looking forward to: June 10th. Obviously.
Things currently annoying the crap out of her: 6th graders. Sorry babes, love you like you were my own...but yeah, I think we need some personal space so I can remember why I love you like you were my own.
Pretty boy of the moment: Shia Lebouf. In a kind of half-hunky/half-geeky kind of way. Still, I wouldn't toss him out of bed for eating crackers. :)
May 18, 2008
I Wrestled With Satan's Bathtub....
and all I got was this lousy t-shirt.
So. Here's the thing. I buy stuff for my Imp pretty much every payday. Diaper bag. Clothes. Receiving blankets. Burp cloths. All the myriad little things that a baby needs and that I don't want to have to buy all at once. The clothes are a little tough, what with anything over newborn being either "Super!Jock!Manly-Man!" or "Pretty!Princess!Butterfly-McSparkle-Pants!"
Whatever. The Imp will either be a girl who wears dinosaurs and puppies or a boy who wears butterflies and hearts. I'm not into gender-roles. Any road...so I buy little things for the Imp and I'm starting to buy some big things for the Imp. One of which is the Imp's bath tub.
Now, let me say I am a great believer in the power of Ebay and thrift stores. Second-hand can be great quality, and a great way to save money. As a SMBC, and a teacher to boot, saving money is going to be a Very Good Thing. So, as I ebay one day (hehe, poetry!) I come across an EvenFlo Splash-With-Me Extendable baby tub.
"What ho?" says the Elf. "An extendable baby tub? Easy locking grips? Three positions for growing baby? Coolness."
Oh, naive, foolish Elf. But she buys it anyway, 'cause for fifteen bucks, it's a pretty good deal.
In the future, this Elf will be thoroughly reviewing any products she purchases for the Imp...although in my defense, who expects EvenFlo to be in league with the Devil?
So I get the tub. And it's very pretty, and well packed, and has neat little features.
And absolutely refuses to be put together.
There's these little ribs on two halves that you have to slide together, slotting a foam strip of sealing into the grooves to create a leak-proof seal and lock the two halves together. The catch? The freakin' ribs are all different sizes, and because of this, the tub half slides neatly down on one side, and goes all off track on the other side because it won't fit properly into the corresponding rib!
Picture those old Benny Hill type skits where they're trying to push a dead guy into a coffin, and first his legs shoot up, but when they press his legs down, his torso shoots up, and hilarity ensues.
Well, hilarity did not ensue here. There was a distinct lack of hilarity. There was, however, a lot of this Elf losing her religion over and over again and turning the air a rather lovely shade of blue.
I did finally manage to get the darn thing together...with use of a screw driver to prise the slots further apart, leaning my full weight onto it to pin the sides together long enough to lock it into place, and pounding on the back of it 'til it sat properly.
30 freakin' minutes.
It's currently sitting in my sink full of water to see if this purported "leak proof" seal really is leak-proof. One drop of water on my floor, man. Just one. This thing'll be out with the trash soooo fast. Grrrrrr.
Caveat Emptor, I guess. But DANG!!!!
Oh well, at least I have a funny story for the Imp someday.
"When Mommy was getting ready for you to come, she had many adventures...."
Things Elfgirl is looking forward to: May 22nd! Indy's back!
Things currently annoying the crap out of her: Satan's Washtub. Obviously.
Pretty boy of the moment: Adrian Pasdar. Is it time for Heroes to be back yet?
So. Here's the thing. I buy stuff for my Imp pretty much every payday. Diaper bag. Clothes. Receiving blankets. Burp cloths. All the myriad little things that a baby needs and that I don't want to have to buy all at once. The clothes are a little tough, what with anything over newborn being either "Super!Jock!Manly-Man!" or "Pretty!Princess!Butterfly-McSparkle-Pants!"
Whatever. The Imp will either be a girl who wears dinosaurs and puppies or a boy who wears butterflies and hearts. I'm not into gender-roles. Any road...so I buy little things for the Imp and I'm starting to buy some big things for the Imp. One of which is the Imp's bath tub.
Now, let me say I am a great believer in the power of Ebay and thrift stores. Second-hand can be great quality, and a great way to save money. As a SMBC, and a teacher to boot, saving money is going to be a Very Good Thing. So, as I ebay one day (hehe, poetry!) I come across an EvenFlo Splash-With-Me Extendable baby tub.
"What ho?" says the Elf. "An extendable baby tub? Easy locking grips? Three positions for growing baby? Coolness."
Oh, naive, foolish Elf. But she buys it anyway, 'cause for fifteen bucks, it's a pretty good deal.
In the future, this Elf will be thoroughly reviewing any products she purchases for the Imp...although in my defense, who expects EvenFlo to be in league with the Devil?
So I get the tub. And it's very pretty, and well packed, and has neat little features.
And absolutely refuses to be put together.
There's these little ribs on two halves that you have to slide together, slotting a foam strip of sealing into the grooves to create a leak-proof seal and lock the two halves together. The catch? The freakin' ribs are all different sizes, and because of this, the tub half slides neatly down on one side, and goes all off track on the other side because it won't fit properly into the corresponding rib!
Picture those old Benny Hill type skits where they're trying to push a dead guy into a coffin, and first his legs shoot up, but when they press his legs down, his torso shoots up, and hilarity ensues.
Well, hilarity did not ensue here. There was a distinct lack of hilarity. There was, however, a lot of this Elf losing her religion over and over again and turning the air a rather lovely shade of blue.
I did finally manage to get the darn thing together...with use of a screw driver to prise the slots further apart, leaning my full weight onto it to pin the sides together long enough to lock it into place, and pounding on the back of it 'til it sat properly.
30 freakin' minutes.
It's currently sitting in my sink full of water to see if this purported "leak proof" seal really is leak-proof. One drop of water on my floor, man. Just one. This thing'll be out with the trash soooo fast. Grrrrrr.
Caveat Emptor, I guess. But DANG!!!!
Oh well, at least I have a funny story for the Imp someday.
"When Mommy was getting ready for you to come, she had many adventures...."
Things Elfgirl is looking forward to: May 22nd! Indy's back!
Things currently annoying the crap out of her: Satan's Washtub. Obviously.
Pretty boy of the moment: Adrian Pasdar. Is it time for Heroes to be back yet?
May 17, 2008
Beside Myself With "WTF?!?!"
Heyas,
Yeah. So. Let me preface this by saying that this is a rant. A wild and irritated rant, punctuated by copious amounts of swearing and arm-waving. At least on my end, 'cause not like you can see arm waving online.
I get a call from my mom last night, who had been talking to my sister, who had been talking to my paternal aunt. And okay, news that starts with a grapevine pedigree like that, maybe not the best idea in the world to take it at face-value, but even with a whole boulder of salt, this is irking my nerves. Apparently, I am the subject of some discussion 'twixt my father and stepmother recently.
And they have decided that since my mother has so much influence over me that I have to move back to the city they live in to get away from her.
What. The. FUCK?
Okay, one, I'm twenty-six freakin' years old. I've lived in three states since graduating college, including doing two years on the opposite side of the country from my family. I think I'm pretty capable of deciding where the hell I want to live. That's not even the issue, though. So my Dad thinks I should move somewhere...so what? It's my life.
No, what moved me straight from mild irritation and amusement to full-on incandescant fury is the idea that he has any right to comment on my relationship with my mother. Yes. My Mom is the single greatest influence in my life. I talk with her at least every few days, and her opinion means a great deal to me. But you know what? My mother sacrificed a hell of a lot after my folks split up to give us a stable, decent home and took pains to raise me to understand that I am my own person and no matter what path I take, I will always have her love and support. She made me into a strong, independent woman with the courage to make my own life as I see fit.
So the suggestion that I'm some kind of spineless "Yes ma'am" type? Pisses. Me. Off. Moving aside from what he's suggesting about my Mom, what does that say about how he views me? What, like I'm some mentally deficient moron who needs to be shielded from undue influence for my own good.
Fuck that noise.
I'm so angry I could spit right now. Dad and Stepmom are coming down to visit over Memorial Day...and I honestly don't know what I'm going to say to them. I mean, how do you respond to something like that? I have no particular desire to spend my weekend fighting, but I'm not going to just let this lie. Ugh. Just when I think my relationship with my father can't get anymore massively complicated.
Turning to other, more pleasant matters, I'm eagerly flying through the final countdown of TTC. July it shall be, the first (and hopefully last) attempt. Got my swim team, got my OPK's, got my little helpers. At the moment I'm taking Rainbow Light prenatals (have been for about two months, now), Evening Primrose Oil (2000 mgs a day), and two or three cups of Fertilitea a day. Pretty good stuff, the tea...tastes vaguely minty and has all sorts of fertility-boosting goodness in it. Vitex, Nettles, Red Raspberry Leaf, Lady's Mantle...all good for evening out the hormones and making the uterus a nice, friendly place for a baby. The nettles have the added benefit of detoxifying kidneys and adrenals. Yay! I'm pretty sure the kidneys are screaming from the abuse I put them through with my soda habit. Been trying to cut that back...managed to get it down to two or so a day (down from six or seven, so, you know...good) and I think I'm gonna cold-turkey it the rest of the way.
Stop laughing, caffeine is just as addictive as nicotine. It does not, however, make for good baby-making, and so away it shall go. My Imp is way more important than my taste for Diet Dr. Pepper. *sigh*
Things Elfgirl is looking forward to: Prince Caspian.
Things currently annoying the crap out of her: *references first half of this post*
Pretty boy of the moment: Shia LeBouf...can't wait for Indiana Jones!
Yeah. So. Let me preface this by saying that this is a rant. A wild and irritated rant, punctuated by copious amounts of swearing and arm-waving. At least on my end, 'cause not like you can see arm waving online.
I get a call from my mom last night, who had been talking to my sister, who had been talking to my paternal aunt. And okay, news that starts with a grapevine pedigree like that, maybe not the best idea in the world to take it at face-value, but even with a whole boulder of salt, this is irking my nerves. Apparently, I am the subject of some discussion 'twixt my father and stepmother recently.
And they have decided that since my mother has so much influence over me that I have to move back to the city they live in to get away from her.
What. The. FUCK?
Okay, one, I'm twenty-six freakin' years old. I've lived in three states since graduating college, including doing two years on the opposite side of the country from my family. I think I'm pretty capable of deciding where the hell I want to live. That's not even the issue, though. So my Dad thinks I should move somewhere...so what? It's my life.
No, what moved me straight from mild irritation and amusement to full-on incandescant fury is the idea that he has any right to comment on my relationship with my mother. Yes. My Mom is the single greatest influence in my life. I talk with her at least every few days, and her opinion means a great deal to me. But you know what? My mother sacrificed a hell of a lot after my folks split up to give us a stable, decent home and took pains to raise me to understand that I am my own person and no matter what path I take, I will always have her love and support. She made me into a strong, independent woman with the courage to make my own life as I see fit.
So the suggestion that I'm some kind of spineless "Yes ma'am" type? Pisses. Me. Off. Moving aside from what he's suggesting about my Mom, what does that say about how he views me? What, like I'm some mentally deficient moron who needs to be shielded from undue influence for my own good.
Fuck that noise.
I'm so angry I could spit right now. Dad and Stepmom are coming down to visit over Memorial Day...and I honestly don't know what I'm going to say to them. I mean, how do you respond to something like that? I have no particular desire to spend my weekend fighting, but I'm not going to just let this lie. Ugh. Just when I think my relationship with my father can't get anymore massively complicated.
Turning to other, more pleasant matters, I'm eagerly flying through the final countdown of TTC. July it shall be, the first (and hopefully last) attempt. Got my swim team, got my OPK's, got my little helpers. At the moment I'm taking Rainbow Light prenatals (have been for about two months, now), Evening Primrose Oil (2000 mgs a day), and two or three cups of Fertilitea a day. Pretty good stuff, the tea...tastes vaguely minty and has all sorts of fertility-boosting goodness in it. Vitex, Nettles, Red Raspberry Leaf, Lady's Mantle...all good for evening out the hormones and making the uterus a nice, friendly place for a baby. The nettles have the added benefit of detoxifying kidneys and adrenals. Yay! I'm pretty sure the kidneys are screaming from the abuse I put them through with my soda habit. Been trying to cut that back...managed to get it down to two or so a day (down from six or seven, so, you know...good) and I think I'm gonna cold-turkey it the rest of the way.
Stop laughing, caffeine is just as addictive as nicotine. It does not, however, make for good baby-making, and so away it shall go. My Imp is way more important than my taste for Diet Dr. Pepper. *sigh*
Things Elfgirl is looking forward to: Prince Caspian.
Things currently annoying the crap out of her: *references first half of this post*
Pretty boy of the moment: Shia LeBouf...can't wait for Indiana Jones!
May 14, 2008
Everybody Was Kung-Fu Fighting
Heyas,
Ever noticed how whever the world/the universe/fantastical dimension/rift in space and time/whatever is in danger, despite the situation being well-covered by many competent and well trained warriors/mages/wizards/wisemen/wisewoman/whatevers, the only person that can defuse the hostile situation is a plucky, slightly incompetent, misfit, middle-class white kid?
Seriously. Go check.
What's up with that?
Went to see "The Forbidden Kingdom" tonight with my friend D. Pretty good movies...never gonna win an Oscar, but it was a good bit of mindless fluff. And hey, Jet Li and Jackie Chan going at it alone was worth the price of admission. Ten minute freakin' fight scene that did absolutely nothing to advance the plot, and lacked any sort of dialogue. That, my friends, is what we call "Fanservice."
Sometimes it worries me, how much of a geek I am.
Apparently, though, not as much as it worries my parents. Well, maybe "worry" is the wrong word, since they pretty much made me this way (s'what they get for leaving me alone in the apartment with a stack of anime videos and the remote control when I got chicken pox in the second grade--don't worry, the neighbor was a stay at home mom who checked on me every hour). But any road, I get home today and there's this email from my father. From my father's WORK address, no less.
"Now, I don't want to pressure you, but have you looked at this site?"
*sigh* Well, he either wants me to accept Jesus Christ as my personal savior (a rather laughable thought when my Dad's in the equation), or he thinks I'm going to be offended.
And it's a site called trekpassions.com
A dating website.
For science fiction geeks.
*double sigh*
Fair enough, I guess. Sure, if I ever hook up with someone, I hope they understand my plethora of TV boyfriends and the fact that if they want a date night, they're going to have to either scehdule around Dr. Who, or join me for adventures in the TARDIS. Sad thing is, that's not even a euphanism. I suppose I can even appreciate that my father is looking out for my love life, after I get over being utterly creeped out that my father is even thinking about my love life. Here's the thing, though...my folks don't seem to understand that it's not that I can't date, it's that I don't want to. I'm not opposed to a relationship, I just don't really want one. I keep trying to explain that to them--and I think my mom and least gets, intellectually, that I'm happy being single, her having spent the past decade as a pretty happy single woman--but for the most part it just--Does. Not. Compute.
They seem to assume that because my folks had a messy divorce that I must have some strange issues trusting men. Or that because there was some friction with my stepmother when my father remarried that I'm trying to avoid heartache.
Hell, they've even obliquely inquired as to whether or not I'm a lesbian.
And it's just...no, I just don't feel like having a relationship. Same way I might say I don't like onions, or 'Moonlight' is a stupid show (sorry, any fans, but the dialogue is clunky and the storylines are subpar at best. Certainly, it's no 'Kindred: The Embraced'). It just doesn't appeal to me. And I really don't know how I can get it through to them that, no, I don't want the husband, I just want the baby.
Seriously...all I want is my Imp, and I will have led a complete life. I will be perfectly content if it's just me and my kid(s). I really don't think they're going to understand that, though, until I'm actually pregnant. Oh well. Working on it.
Things Elfgirl is looking forward to: heading to the beach this weekend. Hancock.
Things currently annoying the crap out of her: people who blast their freakin' music at the highest volume at ten 'o clock at night.
Pretty Boy of the Moment: Jared Padalecki. Oh, Sammy!
Ever noticed how whever the world/the universe/fantastical dimension/rift in space and time/whatever is in danger, despite the situation being well-covered by many competent and well trained warriors/mages/wizards/wisemen/wisewoman/whatevers, the only person that can defuse the hostile situation is a plucky, slightly incompetent, misfit, middle-class white kid?
Seriously. Go check.
What's up with that?
Went to see "The Forbidden Kingdom" tonight with my friend D. Pretty good movies...never gonna win an Oscar, but it was a good bit of mindless fluff. And hey, Jet Li and Jackie Chan going at it alone was worth the price of admission. Ten minute freakin' fight scene that did absolutely nothing to advance the plot, and lacked any sort of dialogue. That, my friends, is what we call "Fanservice."
Sometimes it worries me, how much of a geek I am.
Apparently, though, not as much as it worries my parents. Well, maybe "worry" is the wrong word, since they pretty much made me this way (s'what they get for leaving me alone in the apartment with a stack of anime videos and the remote control when I got chicken pox in the second grade--don't worry, the neighbor was a stay at home mom who checked on me every hour). But any road, I get home today and there's this email from my father. From my father's WORK address, no less.
"Now, I don't want to pressure you, but have you looked at this site?"
*sigh* Well, he either wants me to accept Jesus Christ as my personal savior (a rather laughable thought when my Dad's in the equation), or he thinks I'm going to be offended.
And it's a site called trekpassions.com
A dating website.
For science fiction geeks.
*double sigh*
Fair enough, I guess. Sure, if I ever hook up with someone, I hope they understand my plethora of TV boyfriends and the fact that if they want a date night, they're going to have to either scehdule around Dr. Who, or join me for adventures in the TARDIS. Sad thing is, that's not even a euphanism. I suppose I can even appreciate that my father is looking out for my love life, after I get over being utterly creeped out that my father is even thinking about my love life. Here's the thing, though...my folks don't seem to understand that it's not that I can't date, it's that I don't want to. I'm not opposed to a relationship, I just don't really want one. I keep trying to explain that to them--and I think my mom and least gets, intellectually, that I'm happy being single, her having spent the past decade as a pretty happy single woman--but for the most part it just--Does. Not. Compute.
They seem to assume that because my folks had a messy divorce that I must have some strange issues trusting men. Or that because there was some friction with my stepmother when my father remarried that I'm trying to avoid heartache.
Hell, they've even obliquely inquired as to whether or not I'm a lesbian.
And it's just...no, I just don't feel like having a relationship. Same way I might say I don't like onions, or 'Moonlight' is a stupid show (sorry, any fans, but the dialogue is clunky and the storylines are subpar at best. Certainly, it's no 'Kindred: The Embraced'). It just doesn't appeal to me. And I really don't know how I can get it through to them that, no, I don't want the husband, I just want the baby.
Seriously...all I want is my Imp, and I will have led a complete life. I will be perfectly content if it's just me and my kid(s). I really don't think they're going to understand that, though, until I'm actually pregnant. Oh well. Working on it.
Things Elfgirl is looking forward to: heading to the beach this weekend. Hancock.
Things currently annoying the crap out of her: people who blast their freakin' music at the highest volume at ten 'o clock at night.
Pretty Boy of the Moment: Jared Padalecki. Oh, Sammy!
May 13, 2008
I Bless the Raaaaiiinnnns Down in Aaaaafrica
Heyas,
Yes. I went there. Obligatory Toto reference now out of the way. I'm considering keeping a tally of how often I'm likely to hear such over the next few months, but I'm not sure I can count that high. Math never was my strong suit.
So yeah, exciting times. I wrote my first grant a few weeks ago with my colleague (and best friend 'round these parts) and just recently heard back that we got it! One of only two teams in our state that got this grant, and one of only 480 nationwide. I am stoked. And the grant? Only the most incredible educational tour in the history of history.
Well, my history anyway, and since this is my blog, that's the only one that matters.
This Elf is heading for Africa this summer. Three weeks. Three weeks in. The. Cradle. Of. Civilization. Granted, I don't get to see the pyramids or anything, but still. Africa. I get to walk the streets where Nelson Mandela led his country to freedom from oppression. It's going to be an incredible, humbling, life-altering experience.
And okay, yeah, we're going on a safari, too. Can't go to Africa and not squeeze in a safari.
But see, I have this list. Have had for a few years now. Sometimes certain things change on it, but it's pretty much stayed the same. It goes a little something like this:
Things To Do Before I'm Forty:
1. Have a baby (bio and adopted)
2. Buy my own house
3. Travel to Rome
4. Travel to Africa
5. Have spectacular, mind-blowing sex in a public place
6. Get myself a really pretty diamond ring
7. Get National Board Certification
8. Go to Hawaii
9. See the Pyramids
10. Write a book
11. See the Taj Mahal
12. See the Great Wall of China
13. Tour Europe--England, France, Germany
See all that travel? I want to see the world! And LOOK! Number four! Crossed off! And I'm not even thirty yet. Wooohooo!
Not that it's going to be a total vacation...I am going there to work. However, I signed up to volunteer as an English instructor or a childcare worker...both of which I utterly adore, so I doubt it'll seem very much like work. I can hardly wait until August.
On the ttc front (see List, Item 1), I had some hard thinking to do after this grant came through. Should I hold off? Should I go ahead with my planned insem? After much consideration, I have decided to go ahead with my plans to try to conceive my baby in July.
Allow me to divert from character and be really Miss-Suzy-Cream-Cheese-Pollyanna-Optimistic for a moment. Say I get pregnant first go (AND STICKY PREGNANT! YOU HEAR ME TTC GODS?!), I'll only be five weeks by the time I get back to the states...plenty of women in this world go that long without even knowing they're pregnant, and they aren't dropping dead. I think it'll be okay, as long as I don't try to overdo things in Africa.
Hehe, I love saying that: "While I'm in Africa."
And if it doesn't catch, I'll have August to relax and decide on a new donor (trying with NW 470, but I only bought three vials, and he's pretty much sold out) and then try again in September.
It's incredible how tempted I am to try in June, though. But no, vaccines. I need, like, a boatload of vaccines. Hepatitus A, B, and C, Typhoid, Tetanus, MMR, and maybe Yellow Fever...MMR and Tetanus, I only need a booster, but I gotta get the full strength of everything else. The rest of this month and June are pretty much going to be "Pin the Needle in the Elf" for yours truly.
Sheesh, as many tattoos as I have, you'd think needles wouldn't bother me. But yeah, I hate shots.
Still. Africa. Totally worth it.
Things that Elfgirl is looking forward to: Africa! Africa, Africa, Africa!
Things currently annoying the crap out of her: *sigh* Parents who won't admit that yes, no matter how good a kid they are, your average 12 year old will lie in order to avoid getting in trouble. And you know what? I'm a 26 year old college-educated professional...why on EARTH would I be the one lying????
I love my job. I do. I love my kids as if they were my own. But yeesh, sometimes I hate dealing with their parents.
Pretty Boy of the Moment: Jensen Ackles. Damn you, Kripke!
Yes. I went there. Obligatory Toto reference now out of the way. I'm considering keeping a tally of how often I'm likely to hear such over the next few months, but I'm not sure I can count that high. Math never was my strong suit.
So yeah, exciting times. I wrote my first grant a few weeks ago with my colleague (and best friend 'round these parts) and just recently heard back that we got it! One of only two teams in our state that got this grant, and one of only 480 nationwide. I am stoked. And the grant? Only the most incredible educational tour in the history of history.
Well, my history anyway, and since this is my blog, that's the only one that matters.
This Elf is heading for Africa this summer. Three weeks. Three weeks in. The. Cradle. Of. Civilization. Granted, I don't get to see the pyramids or anything, but still. Africa. I get to walk the streets where Nelson Mandela led his country to freedom from oppression. It's going to be an incredible, humbling, life-altering experience.
And okay, yeah, we're going on a safari, too. Can't go to Africa and not squeeze in a safari.
But see, I have this list. Have had for a few years now. Sometimes certain things change on it, but it's pretty much stayed the same. It goes a little something like this:
Things To Do Before I'm Forty:
1. Have a baby (bio and adopted)
2. Buy my own house
3. Travel to Rome
4. Travel to Africa
5. Have spectacular, mind-blowing sex in a public place
6. Get myself a really pretty diamond ring
7. Get National Board Certification
8. Go to Hawaii
9. See the Pyramids
10. Write a book
11. See the Taj Mahal
12. See the Great Wall of China
13. Tour Europe--England, France, Germany
See all that travel? I want to see the world! And LOOK! Number four! Crossed off! And I'm not even thirty yet. Wooohooo!
Not that it's going to be a total vacation...I am going there to work. However, I signed up to volunteer as an English instructor or a childcare worker...both of which I utterly adore, so I doubt it'll seem very much like work. I can hardly wait until August.
On the ttc front (see List, Item 1), I had some hard thinking to do after this grant came through. Should I hold off? Should I go ahead with my planned insem? After much consideration, I have decided to go ahead with my plans to try to conceive my baby in July.
Allow me to divert from character and be really Miss-Suzy-Cream-Cheese-Pollyanna-Optimistic for a moment. Say I get pregnant first go (AND STICKY PREGNANT! YOU HEAR ME TTC GODS?!), I'll only be five weeks by the time I get back to the states...plenty of women in this world go that long without even knowing they're pregnant, and they aren't dropping dead. I think it'll be okay, as long as I don't try to overdo things in Africa.
Hehe, I love saying that: "While I'm in Africa."
And if it doesn't catch, I'll have August to relax and decide on a new donor (trying with NW 470, but I only bought three vials, and he's pretty much sold out) and then try again in September.
It's incredible how tempted I am to try in June, though. But no, vaccines. I need, like, a boatload of vaccines. Hepatitus A, B, and C, Typhoid, Tetanus, MMR, and maybe Yellow Fever...MMR and Tetanus, I only need a booster, but I gotta get the full strength of everything else. The rest of this month and June are pretty much going to be "Pin the Needle in the Elf" for yours truly.
Sheesh, as many tattoos as I have, you'd think needles wouldn't bother me. But yeah, I hate shots.
Still. Africa. Totally worth it.
Things that Elfgirl is looking forward to: Africa! Africa, Africa, Africa!
Things currently annoying the crap out of her: *sigh* Parents who won't admit that yes, no matter how good a kid they are, your average 12 year old will lie in order to avoid getting in trouble. And you know what? I'm a 26 year old college-educated professional...why on EARTH would I be the one lying????
I love my job. I do. I love my kids as if they were my own. But yeesh, sometimes I hate dealing with their parents.
Pretty Boy of the Moment: Jensen Ackles. Damn you, Kripke!
May 11, 2008
My Mom raised a kick@$$, independent woman...think she did too good a job?
Hello,
Once upon a time, there was a wise and intelligent Elf, with a wicked sense of humor and a damn fine right hook. She grew up and traveled far and wide, tasking herself with the wrangling of wild, demonic animals and imparting in them some sort of knowledge and civilization (known in the common tongue as Teaching Middle School). Though content with her life and career--well except for the fact that she kept ending up in WAY over-priced apartments in dodgy areas--she longed for the day when the mythical Prince Charming would ride up on his Proverbial White Steed (preferably one that would in no way be construed as overcompensating for something) so that she could start a family of her own.
And yet, as the years went by, no Prince Charming appeared. Just a couple of right toads that she really was better off without, and boy weren't THOSE some irritating experiences. Gradually, though, the wise and intelligent Elf realized something. What she really wanted was a little imp to hold in her arms and love and raise...not so much a Prince to share the duty with.
What an epiphany! But could she really do such a thing on her own? What would people think?
Then, the wise and intelligent Elf remembered that in twenty-six years, "What would people think?" had firmly established itself as one of those questions she didn't give two flips about. Right up there with "What exactly is in a hot dog?" ('cause, yeah, I don't care what kind of chemical-soaked meat by-product it is, ain't nothing as good on a summer day as a hot dog and a cold Pepsi).
And lo, did the wise and intelligent Elf embark upon her greatest journey: The Path to Single Motherhood.
And what an interesting path it has been. Four years of waiting, maneuvering, researching, and screwing up my courage to the sticking place, and finally the end is in sight. With luck, this time next year, I'll be holding my Imp. And awkwardly trying to learn how to do five things at once with only one free hand, screaming in agony whenever something brushes up against a nipple, and wondering what on Earth I was smoking when I decided to go this route.
And loving every minute of it. *grin*
Seriously, now that I'm finally in the home stretch as far as trying to conceive my Imp, I'm so breathelessly, exhileratingly, terrified and it's wonderful. It's been a long road, full of interesting twists and turns, but I'm finally closing in on my destination. I've pinned down my ovulation days (ah, delightful days of waking up entirely too early to shove a thermometer in some orifice or another, and examining slime-encrusted toilet tissue as if it holds the secrets of the universe...gotta love it), told my family (to varied, but mostly supportive reactions), and purchased my very own swim team (Donor 470 out of Northwest Andrology, if anyone's interested). All that remains is that last wait until my first attempt at insemination.
So. Excited.
Things that Elfgirl is looking forward to: squirting thawed manjuice up her ladybits while juggling a mirror, a speculum, and a flashlight. Her family coming down to visit her this Memorial Day.
Things currently annoying the crap out of her: the fact that she's gotten to a point where squirting thawed manjuice up her ladybits while juggling a mirror, a speculum, and a flashlight are, like, the most awesome thing ever...'cause EWWWWWWWWW!
Pretty boy of the moment: John Barrowman. *sigh* All the good ones...gay or taken. Or both, in this case. But damn, he's gorgeous.
Once upon a time, there was a wise and intelligent Elf, with a wicked sense of humor and a damn fine right hook. She grew up and traveled far and wide, tasking herself with the wrangling of wild, demonic animals and imparting in them some sort of knowledge and civilization (known in the common tongue as Teaching Middle School). Though content with her life and career--well except for the fact that she kept ending up in WAY over-priced apartments in dodgy areas--she longed for the day when the mythical Prince Charming would ride up on his Proverbial White Steed (preferably one that would in no way be construed as overcompensating for something) so that she could start a family of her own.
And yet, as the years went by, no Prince Charming appeared. Just a couple of right toads that she really was better off without, and boy weren't THOSE some irritating experiences. Gradually, though, the wise and intelligent Elf realized something. What she really wanted was a little imp to hold in her arms and love and raise...not so much a Prince to share the duty with.
What an epiphany! But could she really do such a thing on her own? What would people think?
Then, the wise and intelligent Elf remembered that in twenty-six years, "What would people think?" had firmly established itself as one of those questions she didn't give two flips about. Right up there with "What exactly is in a hot dog?" ('cause, yeah, I don't care what kind of chemical-soaked meat by-product it is, ain't nothing as good on a summer day as a hot dog and a cold Pepsi).
And lo, did the wise and intelligent Elf embark upon her greatest journey: The Path to Single Motherhood.
And what an interesting path it has been. Four years of waiting, maneuvering, researching, and screwing up my courage to the sticking place, and finally the end is in sight. With luck, this time next year, I'll be holding my Imp. And awkwardly trying to learn how to do five things at once with only one free hand, screaming in agony whenever something brushes up against a nipple, and wondering what on Earth I was smoking when I decided to go this route.
And loving every minute of it. *grin*
Seriously, now that I'm finally in the home stretch as far as trying to conceive my Imp, I'm so breathelessly, exhileratingly, terrified and it's wonderful. It's been a long road, full of interesting twists and turns, but I'm finally closing in on my destination. I've pinned down my ovulation days (ah, delightful days of waking up entirely too early to shove a thermometer in some orifice or another, and examining slime-encrusted toilet tissue as if it holds the secrets of the universe...gotta love it), told my family (to varied, but mostly supportive reactions), and purchased my very own swim team (Donor 470 out of Northwest Andrology, if anyone's interested). All that remains is that last wait until my first attempt at insemination.
So. Excited.
Things that Elfgirl is looking forward to: squirting thawed manjuice up her ladybits while juggling a mirror, a speculum, and a flashlight. Her family coming down to visit her this Memorial Day.
Things currently annoying the crap out of her: the fact that she's gotten to a point where squirting thawed manjuice up her ladybits while juggling a mirror, a speculum, and a flashlight are, like, the most awesome thing ever...'cause EWWWWWWWWW!
Pretty boy of the moment: John Barrowman. *sigh* All the good ones...gay or taken. Or both, in this case. But damn, he's gorgeous.
Inaugural Post
Woohoo, well look at me. Blogging with the big kids, and only what? Five years behind everyone else? Somewhat unusual for me in the tech arena...I'm usually pretty up on the bells and whistles of the internet. Gotta love all the happy, shiny tools that Bill Gates says we can't live without. And hey, are you gonna argue with Bill Gates? Yeah, me neither.
So, hello blogosphere. I'm Elfgirl, a 26-year-old middle school teaching, double-fisted cussing (no, I'm not entirely sure what that means, either), redheaded elf with an encyclopedic knowledge of all things sci-fi/fantasy and a rather unhealthy obsession with Dr. Who and Torchwood.
What? Gareth David-Lloyd is pretty.
I look forward to making this blog look a bit more interesting, and just generally filling up my little corner of the internet with my random ramblings. Should be a fun time--end-of-grade tests are coming up in my school and that's always a period that drives me just absolutely stark raving mad. And that's a pretty short drive to begin with. At least this year the district caught a bit of a clue and has the test days as half days. Have you ever had to literally sit and stare at twenty five sixth graders for three and a half hours while they take a test (not allowed to grade papers, or surf the net, or anything...just watch the kids), and then try to maintain some kind of order for a further four and a half hours after they've ben forced into inactivity for that amount of time? 'Taint pretty, and I'm one of the teachers that's willing to take them out and just let them run off some steam afterwards. I can't imagine what it's like for people that actually try to, you know, teach after a state-mandated test.
So hmm and huzzah, there's my first official blog post. Of course, I'm coming back in, like, five minutes to talk about other stuff, but I can't think of a sufficiently clever transition for the next subject, and I think super-long blog posts are kind of annoying anyway. Ciao!
Things Elfgirl is looking forward to: Indiana Jones 4, June 10th (last day for students)
Things currently annoying the crap out of her: The piece of rain gutter currently banging against the side of her residence, particularly since she called the landlord about it coming loose, oh, a MONTH AGO!!!!
Pretty boy of the moment: Gareth David-Lloyd...'cause *rowr*
So, hello blogosphere. I'm Elfgirl, a 26-year-old middle school teaching, double-fisted cussing (no, I'm not entirely sure what that means, either), redheaded elf with an encyclopedic knowledge of all things sci-fi/fantasy and a rather unhealthy obsession with Dr. Who and Torchwood.
What? Gareth David-Lloyd is pretty.
I look forward to making this blog look a bit more interesting, and just generally filling up my little corner of the internet with my random ramblings. Should be a fun time--end-of-grade tests are coming up in my school and that's always a period that drives me just absolutely stark raving mad. And that's a pretty short drive to begin with. At least this year the district caught a bit of a clue and has the test days as half days. Have you ever had to literally sit and stare at twenty five sixth graders for three and a half hours while they take a test (not allowed to grade papers, or surf the net, or anything...just watch the kids), and then try to maintain some kind of order for a further four and a half hours after they've ben forced into inactivity for that amount of time? 'Taint pretty, and I'm one of the teachers that's willing to take them out and just let them run off some steam afterwards. I can't imagine what it's like for people that actually try to, you know, teach after a state-mandated test.
So hmm and huzzah, there's my first official blog post. Of course, I'm coming back in, like, five minutes to talk about other stuff, but I can't think of a sufficiently clever transition for the next subject, and I think super-long blog posts are kind of annoying anyway. Ciao!
Things Elfgirl is looking forward to: Indiana Jones 4, June 10th (last day for students)
Things currently annoying the crap out of her: The piece of rain gutter currently banging against the side of her residence, particularly since she called the landlord about it coming loose, oh, a MONTH AGO!!!!
Pretty boy of the moment: Gareth David-Lloyd...'cause *rowr*
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)