(not exactly, but close enough)

I am all done all my stuff. Basically all I have left to do is pack up my car with leftover books and things that I brought here, and that’s that.

We’re allowed to go home at noon tomorrow… at noon today I’m going to my new school to see what things are like… that means, if I count up this afternoon and tomorrow morning, I have six hours left and then I am FREE!

And since I’m done all my filing and things, I have absolutely nothing to do. I’ve spent an hour talking to colleagues in the staffroom. I’ve checked out the Internet to see who’s in or out of drug rehab. I’ve washed the dishes in the staffroom (I realize, I won’t do it at home but here? Oh hecks yeah). We’re talking major league boredom, peeps.

I’m gonna see if I can sneak out of here a bit early to get my hour-long drive to my new school done with. Tonight’s the staff party… if I can find the secluded cabin where it’s being held. I’ve heard many stories about this particular staff’s wildness at parties, so wish me luck for tonight!

HAHA made you look didn’t I?

Nope, not pregnant, not even close. The title of this post refers to the movie of the same name. I’ve been wanting to see Knocked Up, but I’m not sure if I actually want to go to the theatre to see it. Same with Evan Almighty– they both look okay, but I have a problem with going to the movie theatre. Sure it’s fun and all, but it’s a hassle to sneak in food (no sir no way am I paying $87 for some nibs; generally I bring like, a turkey sandwich or something. WAY better than concession stand nachos), I worry that the movie might end up sucking and then we’ll have paid $13/ticket for crap (our theatre doesn’t have $4 Tuesdays! WTF!), and on the comfort level, theater seating isn’t always optimal (although our theatre has some great seats… the arms in between seats are adjustable, so I can snuggle up to my husband without having an arm digging into my ribs) and there’s always SOMEONE who feels the need to talk all through, or kick the back of your seat, or bring their crying 4-year-old to an 11:30 pm showing of Hannibal Lecter vs. The Exorcist Inside The Most Haunted House In The World And Freddy Krueger’s There Too, And He’s Cranky.

BUT! I just checked, and our local drive-in is showing Knocked Up *and* Evan Almighty on the same night this summer, $10 per carload, we can wear our pyjamas, and if I want to roast an entire pig and bring it with (but where would it sit? the backseat?), I can. Oh, drive-ins. I love you so.

I’m not happy to be here today; I know, it’s my job, and I usually love my job, but … not so much today. Here are the things going on right now:

1- It’s hot. Nearly 30 degrees at 8:30 this morning. Luckily I brought our small fan from home, but all that’s doing is moving the humid, smelly (the farm across the street is spreading manure! woo!) air around a little.

2- I have cramps. I don’t usually mind them, really, but combined with being sweaty and having to do all this lifting and packing, I’m not enjoying them at all, and my PMS is making me super anxious and stressy because if I don’t get all this filing done just so I’m going to have to do it ALL OVER AGAIN and I hates it.
*cleansing breath* Need stress relief. Now. Does anyone out there know if cruises exist specifically for menstrual women? Where we can all get together and just lay around, complaining and being massaged and throwing file folders into the ocean? No? Meh.

3- The aforementioned filing. I don’t like it.

4- The only radio station that will come in in this godforsaken place is Radio Canada, and it seems that today all they are playing is klezmer music. Not just klezmer, but french klezmer.

5- Another staff member is being all snippity and such today and I don’t like that. I asked a question. She was all “blah blah blah you’re such an idiot you suck blah blah attitude attitude snip snap blah”. Scuse me for living.

6- Sleepy. My own fault, I know.

Still though. Only today, tomorrow, and half a day on Friday. Then 6 weeks of relaxing! For me! Hooray!

So. Sleepy. Boys oh boys.

BUT.

I finished my book last night (couldn’t put it down– it’s been awhile since I’ve come across a book that does that to me). Today I have to keep packing up my classroom, every.single.thing.in it, because apparently they’re painting it this summer (same putrid shade of green, why not change colours at least) so nothing can be left out. All I really have to do today is empty my desk. Then I have a huge pile of files to do… not alphabetizing or anything, that I could do, but going through each student’s file and doing things I don’t quite understand, throwing some things out but keeping other things, etc… guaranteed I’ll end up throwing out the wrong thing. I hate this kind of filing. It’s my worstest thing. But… only two and a half more days including today! Then vacation! Summer vacation for me will be spent not at a New Jersey bed and breakfast with my poolboy Jon Bon Jovi, but at my own house with my houseboy Robbito Burrito– which is just fantastic by me. Especially once we purchase an air conditioner for the bedroom. Oh, people, it was sooooo muggy in our bedroom last night, it almost made procedural amendments impossible! SO NOT RIGHT.

Okay, enough about me. Let’s talk about you. What do YOU think of me?

Oh, tomorrow’s gonna suck.

Okay. Pay per post time.

I have a student loan. Paid for my first year of university all on my own, then had to take out loans for the next four years. Wish I could’ve paid it all on my own (or had someone to pay for me, hah!) but no, not possible. So I have, actually, two loans (one federal, one provincial– that’s the way it goes ’round these parts). And while I’m grateful that funding was available to me, I’m really not enjoying paying them back. Not only do I not enjoy giving the government $450 a month (yes, I know, much less than many people, but still a lot to my meagre salary), but I don’t love the fact that, because of the two-student-loan thing, and because my bank can be a little weird even though I have asked them not to be, seemingly random amounts are taken out of the bank at seemingly random times. Does this happen to anyone else?

Sorta wish there was some way for me to do some kinda school loan consolidation or something. Has anyone else done this? If so, what were your experiences?

Clever, no?

No? You really don’t think so?

Well, not all of us can be geniusis geniouses Genesis jeans really really smart.

12:29 am. Yep, I’m gonna be all AWAKE tomorrow!

I don’t know what it is. I can’t sleep. Maybe it’s because I ate SEAFOOD for supper. Yeah, surprised the hell out of me, too. I hate seafood, just on general principle, but tonight Rob wanted fries with the works (french fries, gravy, fried hamburger, onions, sometimes cheese but not tonight, and peas, only Rob doesn’t believe in peas, and his arteries? they agree with him) from a certain nearby diner, and I decided that I would order clam strips and fries. Clam strips don’t taste very… clammy… I guess. Plus I love tartar sauce. But now I can’t sleep.

There’s also this whole thing where a famous dude killed his family then himself. It’s keeping me awake, with all the thinking. I can’t help but feel sad about the entire thing– Rob follows rasslin, and so does my dad, and I used to (when I was 10) be all about Tito Santana… and I can’t help but feel sorry for all of them. Yes, all of them, including the guy who did the killing and suiciding. Should I be damning him to hell for what he did? Is it really even any of my business? I’m torn. I want to hate him for what he did (who kills a seven-year-old?) but at the same time, I know that there is no way that a person in their right mind would do anything so horrific to people they love. I don’t know. To me it’s sort of like when Phil Hartman and his wife died. Everyone was like “oh she sucks! baaaaaaaaaaah!” but Mike Myers would keep talking about what wonderful people they both were. When someone asked him why he included her in his compliments, seeing as she’s the one who killed Phil, he said because she *was* a wonderful person– she had a mental illness that was not her, that was uncontrolled because no one recognized it, and it took over at the worst time. Not that he was condoning what she did, but that until people could say that they had done everything they could to combat mental illness, they shouldn’t vilify someone who was as much a victim as Phil was.

It’s different, though, right? People are saying he took steroids, steroids cause ‘roid rage’, he shouldn’t have taken them in the first place, it’s his own fault, baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah he sucks. (Also, can you believe I’m talking about professional wrestling here? I know of at least one person who will be looking down their nose at me even more than they previously had been– but eh, whatevs)… but in the business that he was in, everyone (almost) takes steroids; if you lose weight or strength, you’re quickly fired. He chose the profession, yes. So, sort of the same thing. If his employer had been encouraging him (or creating an environment where it was in his best interest) to take drugs (steroids *are* drugs), assuring him that ‘everyone does it’ and it’s perfectly safe, and if his employer had not been taking responsibility for that and keeping a very close eye on him, looking for the effects of these drugs. Steroids don’t only cause ‘rage’ — they can cause extremely severe depression, mania, paranoia, and psychosis. Left untreated, this is the road someone so deeply disturbed might take.

Of course, maybe he was just a dick. I don’t know the guy personally no matter what persona he put out there. Whole thing just makes me very, very sad.

So, I had a very nice birthday, thankyouverymuch. I came home from gr. 9 graduation to a Happx Birthdax cake (inside joke, you wouldn’t be interested, I swear), and two more gifts from Rob– the book I’ve been coveting for months, and a blanket I’ve been admiring at one of the local shops but dismissing because I don’t need more blankets, really, even though this was the most gorgeous blue and brown quilt I’d ever set eyes on.

Anyway. The advent of the brown and blue blanket has me thinking about home decorating again; I’d previously been thinking of doing our livingroom in blues and greens, but now I think maybe blue and brown? And, of course, I want to paint the trim on the outside of our house (it’s just so… colourless…), and maybe get a house marker for good measure. Because I’m a Cancer, and we Cancers are all about feathering the old nest.

I’m 31 now! I came squealin’ into the world THAT MANY years ago! According to my mom, all I did for the first three days was sleep, so no changes there.

Anyway, I’m on my way to work, but I would like to let you know that so far for my birthday I have gotten things that are quite appropriate for an aging diva such as myself: cheese from my parents, a hangover from my cousin (my mom’s side of the family is visiting– I went over yesterday and they kept filling my wine glass), and a beautiful basket of bath stuff from my handsome husband.

An MSN conversation I just had with a fellow teacher:

Louise: Um, this golf thing. Do I hafta?

J**: YES YOU DO
J**: If you don’t come, who am I going to send into the water hazard to snorkel for golf balls?

Louise: Um, no. No thank you.

J**: There’s beer

Louise: I don’t like beer

J**: I’ll let you drive the cart– you can be the designated driver!

Louise: Okay this is starting to sound better and better… NOT. See how I did that? With the “Not” at the end? That’s called a “NOT! joke”. I really, really, am not interested in golf, at all, except for mini golf. Is there mini golf? With cheating? Because I’m good at that.

J**: Of course it’s canceled if it rains Wed.

Louise: Let’s all pray for rain. You don’t want to see me armed and dangerous.