So...
How creepy is Chester Cheetah these days?
Seriously...those new commercials with the weirdly unrealistic computer animated Cheetos spokes...cheetah where he's like conducting human experiments and rubbing flight attendants and whatnot? He kinda reminds me of those scary dudes you see on the street corner in the long trenchcoats, chainsmoking and staring at people in unnerving fashion. Like, it used to be, oh hello Chester, thank you I would LOVE some of your delicious (yet basically crunchy death in a bag) cheese-flavored product.
Now it's...oh, hello Chester. No, thank you, please keep your creepy, child-molesting-vibe self away from me. I have no interest in your product.
Or do I pay too much attention to these things?
In other news, I got to chaperone our school's senior prom this past weekend. Not as rollicking a party as some I've ever been to, but everyone seemed to have a good time and I only had to comfort one kid whose girlfriend broke up with him during the last dance. New personal best.
I also had one kid who was helping us set up before the dance run over to introduce his young cousin to me as one of the nicest teachers in the school, which is always gratifying. We talked for a bit, and I'm kind of bobbing along to the music while the DJ is setting up, and all of a sudden the kid looks at his cousin and gleefully proclaims: "See, I told you she was black! I mean, you bleached, Ms. E, but you black!"
Um....thank you? I guess? I can't say that's a compliment I've ever received from one of my students, but it was certainly heartwarming. I think.
Marley is doing much, much better. The lactulose is really helping, so hopefully that's got our problem licked. I'm sure I just jinxed the hell out of myself with that, but whatever. Hope springs eternal.
And I'm submitting my paperwork to get an account at my sperm bank! Yay! Tiny, rather insignificant step, but it's important to me. Imp-Watch twenty ten forges ahead. I'm going up to my sister's this weekend...I think I might approach her about helping me pick my swim team.
This whole process, though I know it'll be more than worth it, can seem rather cold and sterile when going it alone. I am really craving some emotional closeness in choosing my Imp's donor. And heck, it could be some fun bonding time for us. I've decided to try at least one cycle just at home, with no medical intervention. It (sort of) worked once before (heh, THAT was a fiasco of a summer...but I wouldn't trade Africa for anything) and by the time I try it I'll have been on a pretty potent herbal fertility regimen for close to six months. And as I'll be 29 with no real fertility issues, I think I have a decent enough chance of conceiving just doing at home inseminations to justify at least a try. Truth is, I hate the idea of going into a doctor's office and having it done that way. I mean, I'll do it if I have to (I want my Spring baby, and damn it, I don't want to wait another year!), but I would really like at least some aspect of my Imp's conception to be private.
I think this whole process would be a WHOLE lot easier if I was just a loose woman. Yeesh.
Apr 29, 2010
Apr 26, 2010
So Frickin' TIRED of My Profession Being Maligned...
Heyas,
So, full disclosure here...
I'm a Democrat. And more or less a liberal (though my philosophies lean more towards the Libertarian school of thought--government should be responsible for our national defense, our infrastructure, keeping the economy healthy, and stay the hell out of our personal lives). It pisses me off that two people I consider brothers in all but blood can't get married in most states because they fell in love with someone who has the same plumbing as they do and are essentially second class citizens in the eyes of the government. I voted for Obama and though he hasn't delivered on everything he promised me by a long shot, I'm gonna give him another year before I lose faith and I still think we're a lot better off than we would be with McCain and the Queen of the Alaskan Frontier doing the driving. I don't think that global warming is quite the immediate crisis Al Gore (who I also voted for) depicted, but I do believe with all my heart that we are having a terrible effect on our environment and we need to work now to protect it and yes, that means sacrificing some comforts and profits. I believe that the Great Designer of our lives and Universe doesn't give a flip what name we call it or how (or even IF) we worship it so long as we do our best to be good people and live good lives.
Am I a bleeding heart liberal? Not quite, but okay, pretty damn close.
And I am a teacher.
A MIDDLE SCHOOL teacher.
A MIDLE SCHOOL teacher of ENGLISH.
I get up every day and stand in front of 60 plus 12-15 year olds for seven hours and for nine months try to teach them how to read, write, analyze text, punctuate their sentences properly, and create smooth transitions in a five paragraph essay. Beyond that, I try to teach them to love literature, how to understand it, how to apply its lessons to their lives. I try to teach them responsibility, respect, self-worth, tolerance. I have to teach them to fight with their words, not with their fists, and how to stand up for themselves, but not go looking for fights. I have to teach them that what their friends are all doing is not necessarily what's best for THEM.
I have sat with children, CHILDREN, and held their hand while they waited for pregnancy test results, I have calmly promised an eleven-year-old girl that if her mother's boyfriend (who had started molesting her) wanted to get to her, he'd have to go through me first, all the while praying that her biological father could make it to the school before her mother did so I wouldn't have to test that promise against custodial laws and the Las Vegas police. I have been thrown up on, peed on, bled on, and pooped on. I have had a gun brought into my classroom, taken knives off students three times, I have had a desk thrown at me. I have waded into fights between boys twice as big as me (and I am not a small woman), waded into fights between girls twice as mean as me (and I can be a bitch, when I choose). I have been kicked, punched, elbowed, and had my eye blackened.
Any given day I am called on to be mentor, teacher, surrogate mother, friend, psychologist, nurse. I keep extra cash in my car in case lunch money and bus fares are forgotten. I quite often spend my one planning period counseling, tutoring, subbing, monitoring, chaperoning, WHATEVER, even though that's the only free period I have and the only time I have to eat lunch. I get paid for a work day that lasts from 7:30 to 3:30, five days a week. Factor in lesson planning, parent contacts, grading, record keeping, copy-making, and I put in an eighty hour work week, easy. More if we're doing projects.
I am expected to keep my license current with research, continuing education, summer classes, and am expected to advance my degree...all at my own expense, with little to no reimbursement and during my "free" summers.
During the course of the school year, I can expect to have my heart broken countless times by the situations my students come from, grit my teeth through frustration of Herculean proportions, and have at least one day where I have to lock my classroom door, put my head on my desk, and just CRY. I can also expect to receive countless hugs, a ton of artwork scrawled out on looseleaf paper (usually some theme of "Ms. E Rocks!" I am proud to say), and the knowledge that I help children to believe in themselves, and am often one of the few people in their lives who believes in THEM.
I do all this for a pittance of a salary that qualifies me for welfare in several states.
And I am bloody SICK of people harping about lazy, evil, liberal activist teachers who don't really care about their students.
Are there some bad apples in my profession? Of course. Same as there are in any profession. Are we all like that? HELL no.
So, full disclosure here...
I'm a Democrat. And more or less a liberal (though my philosophies lean more towards the Libertarian school of thought--government should be responsible for our national defense, our infrastructure, keeping the economy healthy, and stay the hell out of our personal lives). It pisses me off that two people I consider brothers in all but blood can't get married in most states because they fell in love with someone who has the same plumbing as they do and are essentially second class citizens in the eyes of the government. I voted for Obama and though he hasn't delivered on everything he promised me by a long shot, I'm gonna give him another year before I lose faith and I still think we're a lot better off than we would be with McCain and the Queen of the Alaskan Frontier doing the driving. I don't think that global warming is quite the immediate crisis Al Gore (who I also voted for) depicted, but I do believe with all my heart that we are having a terrible effect on our environment and we need to work now to protect it and yes, that means sacrificing some comforts and profits. I believe that the Great Designer of our lives and Universe doesn't give a flip what name we call it or how (or even IF) we worship it so long as we do our best to be good people and live good lives.
Am I a bleeding heart liberal? Not quite, but okay, pretty damn close.
And I am a teacher.
A MIDDLE SCHOOL teacher.
A MIDLE SCHOOL teacher of ENGLISH.
I get up every day and stand in front of 60 plus 12-15 year olds for seven hours and for nine months try to teach them how to read, write, analyze text, punctuate their sentences properly, and create smooth transitions in a five paragraph essay. Beyond that, I try to teach them to love literature, how to understand it, how to apply its lessons to their lives. I try to teach them responsibility, respect, self-worth, tolerance. I have to teach them to fight with their words, not with their fists, and how to stand up for themselves, but not go looking for fights. I have to teach them that what their friends are all doing is not necessarily what's best for THEM.
I have sat with children, CHILDREN, and held their hand while they waited for pregnancy test results, I have calmly promised an eleven-year-old girl that if her mother's boyfriend (who had started molesting her) wanted to get to her, he'd have to go through me first, all the while praying that her biological father could make it to the school before her mother did so I wouldn't have to test that promise against custodial laws and the Las Vegas police. I have been thrown up on, peed on, bled on, and pooped on. I have had a gun brought into my classroom, taken knives off students three times, I have had a desk thrown at me. I have waded into fights between boys twice as big as me (and I am not a small woman), waded into fights between girls twice as mean as me (and I can be a bitch, when I choose). I have been kicked, punched, elbowed, and had my eye blackened.
Any given day I am called on to be mentor, teacher, surrogate mother, friend, psychologist, nurse. I keep extra cash in my car in case lunch money and bus fares are forgotten. I quite often spend my one planning period counseling, tutoring, subbing, monitoring, chaperoning, WHATEVER, even though that's the only free period I have and the only time I have to eat lunch. I get paid for a work day that lasts from 7:30 to 3:30, five days a week. Factor in lesson planning, parent contacts, grading, record keeping, copy-making, and I put in an eighty hour work week, easy. More if we're doing projects.
I am expected to keep my license current with research, continuing education, summer classes, and am expected to advance my degree...all at my own expense, with little to no reimbursement and during my "free" summers.
During the course of the school year, I can expect to have my heart broken countless times by the situations my students come from, grit my teeth through frustration of Herculean proportions, and have at least one day where I have to lock my classroom door, put my head on my desk, and just CRY. I can also expect to receive countless hugs, a ton of artwork scrawled out on looseleaf paper (usually some theme of "Ms. E Rocks!" I am proud to say), and the knowledge that I help children to believe in themselves, and am often one of the few people in their lives who believes in THEM.
I do all this for a pittance of a salary that qualifies me for welfare in several states.
And I am bloody SICK of people harping about lazy, evil, liberal activist teachers who don't really care about their students.
Are there some bad apples in my profession? Of course. Same as there are in any profession. Are we all like that? HELL no.
Apr 15, 2010
Stop the Ride, I Want Off
Heyas,
So, I'm having a bad time with Marley right now. Tuesday night he started seizing and he's had a grand mal seizure at least every eight hours since. I've spent the past two nights jerking awake at the slightest noise or movement from him (and twice I jerked awake just in time to move him to the floor from my bed to avoid him peeing all over my bedspread when he loses bladder control) and I had to call off school today because I'd literally only gotten about four hours of sleep in a forty eight hour period and just being that tired and stressed out made me sick. Marley's last seizure was at about nine this morning, and he seems to be a little more alert now, so I'm hoping that he's finally coming out of the spell, but damn.
Seizures are the worst visible symptom of Marley's liver condition. It happens when he gets too much protein in his system and ammonia builds up to toxic levels in his bloodstream. Problem is, I have no idea what triggered these seizures. He got into some cat food at my mother's place over the weekend, but I didn't think he'd gotten enough to throw him into seizures, and he seemed fine on Monday. He's been eating only rice and vegetables for the past few days to try and not overtax his system, and my mom got me some lactulose from our vet that I'll pick up tomorrow, which should help bind up toxins in his system and help him pass them quicker, but I don't know if that'll work.
I'm having to face the real possibility of having to put my boy down. If I can't get these seizures under control...that's no way for him to live. And they're only a visible symptom of a very, very serious internal issue. Liver failure is a slow, painful way to die and I can't do that to him. I knew going into this that hsi long-term prognosis was not good. This condition he has takes a lot of very careful care and dogs with it don't tend to live that long. Large breed dogs with this condition have an even shorter prognosis. But I thought I'd get more than a year and a half.
I don't know, hopefully the lactulose and going back to a very strictly low protein diet will get this under control, but I'm trying to be hopeful and at the same time prep myself for the worst. I've never had to let an animal go. We've had family pets that we've had to put down, but I've never been the one to make the decision, and the ones we had to do that for were "family" pets that my sisters were more invested in than I was. This is MY baby. So, hope for the best, prepare for the worst...that's my motto in life, apparently.
It's been a really nasty couple of weeks. One of my dear friends and I are going through a really rough patch (or at least, I am on my end...I don't know if he's noticed yet). Basically, my friend has had some really hard hands dealt to him this year. I'm in no way making light of the tough choices and situations he's having to deal with. And in a lot of ways, I'm one of the few outlets and support networks he has, so I expect to share the worst of the load with him, and listen to him and try to help him deal with things...but he's not dealing. For the past few weeks, our conversations have consisted of him detailing over and over again how hard his life is right now and how unhappy and depressed he is, and him asking over and over how can he change it, how can he be happy again...and then refusing to take the actual necessary steps.
A family member he lives with has some serious depression issues. He literally lives in fear that he'll come home and find this person has killed themselves. But he won't get the person to sign themselves into a mental health facility (or do it for them) because he'd feel like he let them down by taking them out of their home, and he should be able to help them deal with the depression.
He's having money issues...he lives in a place that he can't really afford the rent on, he's drowning in student loan debt, and his car has needed major repairs this month. But he won't move to a more affordable place because he doesn't like change, won't stop spending a hundred dollars or more a week on takeout because he doesn't like to cook, and won't get rid of the car and take public transport because he doesn't like being around so many people.
He has weight issues. He spends money on a gym membership and then comes home and orders pizza and chinese takeout and ice cream (yes, actually pays to have ice cream delivered), because he needs the comfort food because he's so self-conscious about the weight.
He called me up the other day crying, literally sobbing because he heard a song on the radio that reminded him of his fifteen year old dog that he finally had to have put down a year ago. And I sympathize...I do. If and when I have to let Marley go, I will be an inconsolable wreck. But a year down the line?
It just seems like one vicious circle after another. And it's exhausting trying to be constantly supportive and sympathetic to someone who seems determined to just spin their wheels. Lately I feel like he doesn't want to make any changes...he just wants people to commiserate with how much his life sucks, and then when things don't change or get worse, he can sit back and not take any responsibility for it, because his life is so hard. And I just want to shake him and scream, "You're an adult! No one is going to fix things for you, you have to fix it for yourself."
I mean...I do a lot of venting here. I try to be funny about it, but a lot of my posts are pity parties, and I own that. But writing is my catharsis and helps me drain out all the anger and frustration and resentment so that I can GO DEAL WITH MY PROBLEMS CALMLY AND CONSTRUCTIVELY. I don't whine like this in real life. This is my safe place to just throw a little tantrum in safe anonymity that won't hurt anyone so that I can go be a grownup elsewhere.
*deep breath*
On a positive note...
Dear Universe,
Please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, PLEASE let Tammy and Mark have their happy ending next week (and then an even happier ending in nine months). Just, seriously, they deserve it more than just about anyone else in the whole world at this point. I don't even really know them, and I'm not close to Tammy like some of her other blog-stalkers, but I want this for her every bit as much as I want to finally hold my Imp in my arms.
Yours truly,
Elfgirl
So, I'm having a bad time with Marley right now. Tuesday night he started seizing and he's had a grand mal seizure at least every eight hours since. I've spent the past two nights jerking awake at the slightest noise or movement from him (and twice I jerked awake just in time to move him to the floor from my bed to avoid him peeing all over my bedspread when he loses bladder control) and I had to call off school today because I'd literally only gotten about four hours of sleep in a forty eight hour period and just being that tired and stressed out made me sick. Marley's last seizure was at about nine this morning, and he seems to be a little more alert now, so I'm hoping that he's finally coming out of the spell, but damn.
Seizures are the worst visible symptom of Marley's liver condition. It happens when he gets too much protein in his system and ammonia builds up to toxic levels in his bloodstream. Problem is, I have no idea what triggered these seizures. He got into some cat food at my mother's place over the weekend, but I didn't think he'd gotten enough to throw him into seizures, and he seemed fine on Monday. He's been eating only rice and vegetables for the past few days to try and not overtax his system, and my mom got me some lactulose from our vet that I'll pick up tomorrow, which should help bind up toxins in his system and help him pass them quicker, but I don't know if that'll work.
I'm having to face the real possibility of having to put my boy down. If I can't get these seizures under control...that's no way for him to live. And they're only a visible symptom of a very, very serious internal issue. Liver failure is a slow, painful way to die and I can't do that to him. I knew going into this that hsi long-term prognosis was not good. This condition he has takes a lot of very careful care and dogs with it don't tend to live that long. Large breed dogs with this condition have an even shorter prognosis. But I thought I'd get more than a year and a half.
I don't know, hopefully the lactulose and going back to a very strictly low protein diet will get this under control, but I'm trying to be hopeful and at the same time prep myself for the worst. I've never had to let an animal go. We've had family pets that we've had to put down, but I've never been the one to make the decision, and the ones we had to do that for were "family" pets that my sisters were more invested in than I was. This is MY baby. So, hope for the best, prepare for the worst...that's my motto in life, apparently.
It's been a really nasty couple of weeks. One of my dear friends and I are going through a really rough patch (or at least, I am on my end...I don't know if he's noticed yet). Basically, my friend has had some really hard hands dealt to him this year. I'm in no way making light of the tough choices and situations he's having to deal with. And in a lot of ways, I'm one of the few outlets and support networks he has, so I expect to share the worst of the load with him, and listen to him and try to help him deal with things...but he's not dealing. For the past few weeks, our conversations have consisted of him detailing over and over again how hard his life is right now and how unhappy and depressed he is, and him asking over and over how can he change it, how can he be happy again...and then refusing to take the actual necessary steps.
A family member he lives with has some serious depression issues. He literally lives in fear that he'll come home and find this person has killed themselves. But he won't get the person to sign themselves into a mental health facility (or do it for them) because he'd feel like he let them down by taking them out of their home, and he should be able to help them deal with the depression.
He's having money issues...he lives in a place that he can't really afford the rent on, he's drowning in student loan debt, and his car has needed major repairs this month. But he won't move to a more affordable place because he doesn't like change, won't stop spending a hundred dollars or more a week on takeout because he doesn't like to cook, and won't get rid of the car and take public transport because he doesn't like being around so many people.
He has weight issues. He spends money on a gym membership and then comes home and orders pizza and chinese takeout and ice cream (yes, actually pays to have ice cream delivered), because he needs the comfort food because he's so self-conscious about the weight.
He called me up the other day crying, literally sobbing because he heard a song on the radio that reminded him of his fifteen year old dog that he finally had to have put down a year ago. And I sympathize...I do. If and when I have to let Marley go, I will be an inconsolable wreck. But a year down the line?
It just seems like one vicious circle after another. And it's exhausting trying to be constantly supportive and sympathetic to someone who seems determined to just spin their wheels. Lately I feel like he doesn't want to make any changes...he just wants people to commiserate with how much his life sucks, and then when things don't change or get worse, he can sit back and not take any responsibility for it, because his life is so hard. And I just want to shake him and scream, "You're an adult! No one is going to fix things for you, you have to fix it for yourself."
I mean...I do a lot of venting here. I try to be funny about it, but a lot of my posts are pity parties, and I own that. But writing is my catharsis and helps me drain out all the anger and frustration and resentment so that I can GO DEAL WITH MY PROBLEMS CALMLY AND CONSTRUCTIVELY. I don't whine like this in real life. This is my safe place to just throw a little tantrum in safe anonymity that won't hurt anyone so that I can go be a grownup elsewhere.
*deep breath*
On a positive note...
Dear Universe,
Please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, PLEASE let Tammy and Mark have their happy ending next week (and then an even happier ending in nine months). Just, seriously, they deserve it more than just about anyone else in the whole world at this point. I don't even really know them, and I'm not close to Tammy like some of her other blog-stalkers, but I want this for her every bit as much as I want to finally hold my Imp in my arms.
Yours truly,
Elfgirl
Apr 4, 2010
iPhones Are Amazing
That's all.
Literally, I just wanted to post about how amazing my new iPhone is. I think it's quite possibly the coolest thing I have ever owned in my life. I've literally just been playing with it for two straight days, downloading apps and using it to surf the web. There doesn't appear to be anything it can't do.
And you know, that's exactly how most post-robotic-apocalypse sci-fi novels and movies start out, but I don't even care. My iPhone can take over the world any time it wants!
Literally, I just wanted to post about how amazing my new iPhone is. I think it's quite possibly the coolest thing I have ever owned in my life. I've literally just been playing with it for two straight days, downloading apps and using it to surf the web. There doesn't appear to be anything it can't do.
And you know, that's exactly how most post-robotic-apocalypse sci-fi novels and movies start out, but I don't even care. My iPhone can take over the world any time it wants!
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