I Admit It, I'm Slighlty Dramatic

I am not a good sick person. I whine. I tell the hubs that I am dying. I tell my friends that they can have my extensive shoe and purse collection if I die. Then I go home, lay down, usually feel better, and then take back the verbal contract/will of my shoes.

I do have to brag though for a second...even in all of my whining and complaining of dying, I usually take care of myself. I don't want people to feel like they have to take care of me. I don't want people pitying me. Most importantly, I don't like taking off work and having to come up with sub plans.

Now that being said, this time was different. This time I felt like I was hit by a bus carrying the Olympic sumo wrestling team. This time I let the hubs take care of me. I let him get up at 3am to get me some Nyquil and 3 Advil. This time I took off work and might even take another day.

It all started Thursday with a tickle. I knew "it" was there using my tonsils as a scratching post, but I just ignored "it." But somewhere between 7am and 1230pm something happened. The tickle turned into a full on incapabillity to swallow. I sat there looking at my class of students wondering how I was going to make it through another hour and a half. I took it minute by minute and luckily most of the bell was used for revising their essays. I went home, took some Advil, and a nap. When I woke up, I felt better. I even ate some soup. I was praising the healing powers of Advil. Then around 9, "it" came back for another round. Body aches. Chills followed by sweating. Throat so swollen I couldn't swallow my own spit. It was a long restless night, but I knew I had to go to work Friday.

Friday was worse than Thursday. I showered a really long shower and carried my pathetic butt to school. I was so mad at myself for not getting a sub. But honestly, I don't think I had ever felt like this. I was weak. I was run down. The sumo wrestlers were now off that metaphorical bus and kicking my ass. I got to school and talked to the Awsome Spruill and he got me a sub. I was free. Free to go home and sleep. And that is what I have been doing. Since Friday I have slept and watched TV...and oh yeah, I occasionally play someone in my words with friends. I didn't have the energy to do anything else. I, a self proclaimed addict of Facebook, could only muster up 5 minutes at a time to do anything and at times even Facebook was exhausting.

Meanwhile the hubs took care of the bug and everything else I am so used to doing. He painted our shutters, cleaned the kitchen, made the meals, and brought me beverages and medicine. He would even get up and turn the fan off when I was freezing and then back on when I was going through my "I'm so hot phase." He earned himself some gold start these past few days. Maybe I will let him change them in when I am better.

I know no one likes to be sick, but I also know many out there who get a slight symptom and put themselves on bed rest. I can't understand that. I would rather be doing anything than just laying around...but maybe that is why I got sick in the first place.

Today is the first day I actually have enough energy to peruse Facebook and type. I might even eat today. (That soup was the last thing I ate). Until then, I will go live the high life and gargle another glass of salt water.

All I have to say...I better have lost at least a pound or so. :)

And P.S. I do not reccomend using Google images when searching for a picture of tonsils. There are some (pardon my language) F'ed up tonsils out there!

40 Days of Sacrifice

Somebody get me a soda...PLEASE!

Mountain Dew. Cherry Dr. Pepper. Really cold can of Coke.

These are what I dream about at night.

It all started when I decided to give Jenny Craig a try. I wanted to lose a few pounds. I am not the most disciplined person out there, but I did get my soda intake to twice a week.

Then Good Friday rolled around and I decided to go ahead and give it up. My true vice in the world. I know it is not a real sacrifice, especially when you compare it to Jesus' sacrifice. I get it. But my devotion to my Catholic roots is not as strong as some and to be honest, Lent is the last thing I hold on to. So out went soda and meat on Fridays. How does one say ugh in a blog that really conveys my true discontent?

Ugh.

On the flip side, my dear friend is sticking with her sacrifice and giving up the facebook addiction. I think she is even finding out about others' addictions in facing hers head on. Hell she is even making me look at my own addiction.

Maybe that will be next status update.

Hi Ho! Hi Ho! It's back to school I go

After attending a writing conference this past week, I have decided I need to go back to school. I need to be among my people. I need to write.

In no way, shape, or form do I think I am a phenomenal writer. I am not even sure I am mediocre. I just know that I need to do this to fulfill something that is missing in my life. And it is not the degree that is going to fulfill me, but the academia and all the things that come along with it.

So I thought if I proclaimed my new goal to all the world wide web, I would be more apt to actually get my butt in gear.

Grad school Fall 2011 or bust...let's just hope I don't bust.

PS- Later I will be "publishing" my travel writing from the workshop. Stay tuned.

(Smack! Smack!) I. Can't. Find. A. Vein. (Smack! Smack!)

So I have a friend who is an addict. In fact, her latest blog is on this very topic. But she has quit...almost cold turkey.

As she talks about giving up Facebook for lent, all I can do is commend her vigorously. Some people give her a hard time for still getting on for 5 minutes a day, but C'MON! Could you turn off the smack for 40 days and nights? I mean it is a known fact, or at least quote by an actor in The Social Network, that 91% of people who log on, come back.

I come back. And back. And back again. Sometimes all in the same 5 minutes depending what is going on in my life.

Now, don't get me wrong, I am not Lindsey Lohan status...yet. I don't need FB Rehab in the Hollywood Hills. I can go on a cruise and not pay for Wi-fi to check or update my status and photos, but you can be darn skippy that the FIRST moment we dock back in the states, I will be catching up on all the stauses I missed.

So here I sit and I am already thinkin' about next year and if I could give up the addiction for 57,400 minutes (granted I give myself 5 minutes a day). Will I dream about my first status following Easter day? Will I start writing other Facebook regulars' statuses in my head.

Jennifer E.S.: Need coffee now.

Naomi S: Amanda is the bestest friend in the whole wide world.

Tiffany M.F.: I have the best Pampered Chef deal for you yet.

(Okay, so one of those might not be a real depiction of an actual Facebook status).

I think I am going to wait and see how Amber does. It is Day 2 and she has already called me about "How disconnected from the world she is."

That being said, she is strong willed and loves to prove people wrong when they doubt her.

That also being said, I am a weak human being and love my facebook time.

Go ahead and cut off my fingers...

So is this what I have to look forward to? Will I now be fired for expressing my views? For practicing my 1st Ammendment Right?

As a high school teacher, I find this absolutley insane! I love how we hold teachers to such a higher degree than we even hold ourselves. Are we not allowed to complain about our observations? Are our first ammendment rights null and void because we are paid with tax dollars? The truth of the matter is, students as a whole have stopped thinking for themselves. They have become lazy. And the students aren't the only ones disengaged...the parents are too! I'd love to give a benchmark test that measures a parent's parenting skills.

Peruse the internet and see how many blogs there are that feature people complaining about their job. It doesn't mean they hate their job, it means they had a bad day or a person who upset them. Does it mean that they should be fired? Better yet, next time I hear a parent openly complain about their child I will call up GMA and make sure that the parent is ridiculed by a mass of people who have no idea what they are talking about!

Zzzzzzzz...

I am tired. I have been really trying to be a better blogger, but I am convinced that the days are truly getting shorter.

At 930pm, I am exhausted. I am usually asleep by 945. And let's not talk about the alarm going off at 5am. It is too much to comprehend.

So until I wake out of my slumber (which will hopefully be this weekend when the hubs returns), I will blog less and maybe sleep more...doubt it.

Who am I to Judge?

I have an ugly confession...

I

Can

Be

Judgy.

I know, I know, we all are, but it isn't until very recently, that I realized how judgy I can be.

But before I start this blog, I must apologize in advance because I am sure that I am going to offend someone and for that I am sorry in advance.

As many of you know (and if you don't you must not have read my other posts), I am a teacher of the up and coming generation. While sometimes I wish that I taught the 7 year olds, I teach the 14-20 year olds...which means I have a plethera things to judge.

By the way, stay with me, I promise this post is not really about my job.

Anyways, as I was saying, I teach teenagers and with this means I sometimes teach teenager who are themselves having babies. It is a sad situation and I never really know what to say when I get the news. I never say Congratulations because I refuse to condone it, but at the same time I never put them down. The deed is done and now they just need to know that I believe in them and that I know if they work really hard they can still complete their education.

This is where the judgement comes in: Secretly I am angry with them. I know they will not be the true parent to that child. In very few cases do I hear about that teenager and her partner in crime being full time parents AND full time students. Yet, here I am expected to be full time mommy and teacher. Many of these kids (and no, not all) will never know what it is truly like to have to truly sacrifice. Often, their mom will take over many of the responsibilities and those babies often grow up only to repeat the cycle. This infuriates me. Until today...

As I sit here and mull over being a "single parent" for the next few weeks, I realize how blessed I am to have my mommy and daddy to step in, to babysit, to make a meal once in a while, to...whatever. I have never had to do what I do alone...by myself... The one time I did have to, kinda, was when I lived in Florida for a year. I was by myself with no help from mommy and daddy, but at the same time, I didn't work and I think I attended 10 social events without my daughter. (2 of them were with my hubby when my MOM came in town.)

HELL not only does my mom help with the Bug, but on Wednesday she is picking up my whitening trays at the dentist, and today she paid for me to get my brows threaded (which hurt like I don't know what!) So maybe the hubs and I are the Bug's support system, but my parents are ours. And that is okay.

So mom and dad...you may never read this, but I want to send out a virtual hug, kiss, and thank you. You can never realize how much better parents you let us be by being there for us.

And as for the babies out there having babies: know that it is okay to ask for help, but be truly grateful for it. Rise to the occasion of being the parent and know that the commitment is life long...on both ends.

One day...

So I gave my writing class an assignment.

They had to roll 7 dice and whatever pictures came up they had to include in their next short story. The words: beetle, sun, magic, castle tower, tee-pee, The letter L, and cane.

I decided that this would be fun and that I wanted to participate too. Normally I don't share my writing with the kids. They know I have a blog, but I would never tell them where they could find it. I told one class that I used blogspot.com and I got "That is where the old people blog."

Like most, my writing is personal, but really, it goes deeper than that. I don't really want to be judged, ESPECIALLY by my students. I mean, would you? Would you want to put your words and thoughts out to people who still judge their peers by what brand of shoe they are wearing?

Regardless, I decided to participate with my wrting class and write a short story. We share tomorrow and you know what? As much as I am scared shitless, I am rejuvenated. I LOVED making myself write something that required characters, conflicts, and creativity. I don't even care if it sucks (for lack of a better word). Over the last 6 years, I have become so involved in teaching other people's words that I forgot my own.

This blog is the closest I have gotten to writing and it took me almost a year to write 8 posts. Re-DUNK-ULOUS!

I know I spent a whole post on bashing those of you with your new year's resolutions, but I think I might have to recant...

I resolve to write more. I resolve to sharing my creativity with the world...or my 6 followers. I resolve to making my childhood dream come true: publishing...something other than just this blog.

(And if I may toot my own horn, my story was pretty darn good for my first time back on the horse. Toot! Toot!...or Neigh!!!...or whatever other cliche I can use here)

What's for Dinner

I felt I needed to redeem myself after my last post...

This is what we are having for dinner tonight. I hope it is yummy.

Lazy Lasagna Chili

1 cup coarsely chopped zucchini

½ cup coarsely chopped onion

1 lb sweet Italian sausage (4 links)

2 garlic cloves, pressed

1 (26 oz) jar spaghetti sauce

2 (14-14 ½ oz) cans beef broth

1 cup water

1 ½ cups uncooked pasta of choice

2 Tbls snipped basil (optional)

1. Coarsely chop zucchini and onions using Food Chopper; set zucchini aside. Remove casings from sausage; discard casings. Heat Lg 8qt Pot over medium heat until hot. Add sausage, onion and garlic pressed with Garlic Press; cook sausage 8-10 minutes or until no longer pink, breaking sausage into crumbles; drain.

2. Add spaghetti sauce, broth and water; bring to a boil. Stir in pasta. Reduce heat; simmer, uncovered, 7 minutes. Stir zucchini into chili' cook 2-4 minutes or until zucchini is tender. Remove from heat; stir basil into soup, if desired. Ladle soup into bowls; serve with French Bread.

Note: The Pic is not my actual soup. I chopped up my zuchini to get the kid (and myself) to eat it. I also used penne.

Dinner for 1 1/2.

I like to think that I am an okay mom. There aren't awards given for best mom and such, but if there was one, I'd like to believe I would at least get an Emmy...not the Primetime Emmy, not even the Daytime Emmy, but you know, the local Emmy. I am the best mom in my locality after all; the locality being 201 Rountree Drive of course.

I still have a lot to work on. I am a working mom so that right there makes me half of a mom and I didn't breast feed which I assume that makes me like one quarter of a good mom(please say you are picking up on the sarcasm). On a more real note, I want to be the mom that does crafts on the weekends, the mom that doesn't let her child watch too much TV, and the mom that makes fresh vegetables for dinner instead of canned vegetables. Some nights I just wish I was the mom that had a meal to make...period.

Take tonight for instance. I spent my entire drive home (approximately 45 minutes) thinking about what fabulous meal I was going to whip up. I came up with calling in Chinese and having the hubs pick it up.

I know, I know. Somewhere out there, there is a mom cringing right now. About once a week, and usually by Thursday, I just don't have it in me. I just don't. Kinda the same with my wardrobe. If they would let us wear yoga pants on Thursdays, I would. Chinese/Fast Food are my yoga pants.

So the dilemma is this: WHAT THE HELL AM I GOING TO DO WHEN THE HUBS GOES TO BAHRAIN FOR 6 MONTHS???

No...seriously. I know myself well enough to know that my poor kid will be eating cereal 3 days a week. Sunday dinner better start happening again at mom's; otherwise, we aren't eating home cooked meals. Unless ramen counts as home cooked. It does involve water on a stove (I don't use the microwave.)

I ask this of you my loyal 3 followers...don't leave comments on this post. Leave easy recipes. Better yet, leave a cooked dinner on my doorstep. The Bug and I will appreciate it.

Resolutions are for suckers!!!

I don't have a lot to say about Resolutions.

I'm tired of making them. I am tired of breaking them. Most importantly, I am tired of the people who NEED to make them...DON'T!

For example: My students! I asked them what their resolutions were today. No hands. "Okay you guys, what are your goals for the upcoming semester?" Again, no hands.

So we went on with our work. "Get out a pen or pencil." 6 hands go up.

"Can I get a pencil?"

"I don't have my pencil, I was running late."

So I suggest a resolution, "How 'bout we make it a resolution to have a pen or pencil everyday?" 1 hand.

"Why do you have them there for us if you don't want us to use them?"

At this point 2 hands go up. Mine. Over my face.

White flag.

Dreaming is not just for kids...

Have you ever read the book The Last Lecture by Randy Pausch? If you haven't I want to be the first to recommend it. It is not a transcript of what you saw on "Oprah" or You Tube, but rather a real insight into his what drove him in his life and final days.

Yes it is one of those feel-good-you-can-do-anything-you-put-your-mind-to books. And for some that may be a turn off, but I promise you, it will change your life, or at least your day if nothing else.

His overall theme is all about childhood dreams. His ranged from winning one of those RIDICULOUSLY large stuffed animals at an amusement park to authoring an article in the World Book Encyclopedia. Both of which he accomplished. Playing for the NFL and being Captain Kirk didn't happen, but he did meet the Shatner: the original Captain Kirk.

So you know what is coming next: my childhood dreams. I mean if we get technical this is what a blog is for, right? An opportunity to be self indulgent and tell my whopping 2 followers (1 being myself) my thoughts, my dreams, my hopes...blah, blah, blah.

Don't laugh.

My Childhood Dreams

1. Be the mascot for Old Dominion University aka Big Blue
2. Work at Busch Gardens (an amusement park about 1 hour away) and be the one that says "Welcome to "insert ride name here" please secure all loose articles and prepare for the Ride of Fright.
3. Be a teacher
4. Be an actress
5. Be a singer
6. Publish something

I think I can say I somewhat accomplished 3 out of 6 so far (if you bend the dream to fit my modern day interpretation).

1. Even though I didn't realize this dream until I was 17 or so, I knew the day I went to my first ODU game that I wanted to be Big Blue. I later found out that you have to be a certain height and that no matter what I was not going to realize this dream through. I did, however, one day meet the person in charge of Big Blue at a wine festival. I told her how it was my ultimate dream (remember it is a wine festival and I had had a few) to be the mascot. She entertained me by taking my number. I still haven't gotten my phone call yet, but meanwhile I have been seen running around as the mascot of the school I work at. It is not Big Blue, but it has been a whole lotta fun.
2. I just made my hubby aware of this dream of Busch Gardens and how I was going to make it happen. He rolled his eyes, but I am more determined than ever to make it happen. I haven't figured out the logistics yet, seeing I have a 3 1/2 year old and a hubby going to Bahrain, but I plan on applying. I'm sure the $6 an hour I will make can cover my gas and daycare...right?
3. Becoming a teacher has been the hardest and easiest dream I have ever had. I can go on and on, but I think my previous post provides all you ever need to know.
4. When I made this dream I thought I would be an actress in Broadway or an actress that plays a girl on Broadway. (Have you ever seen A Chorus Line the movie? This is where this crazy notion came from.) I didn't have the parents that were the types that said "follow your dreams" or packed up the family so I could audition for the "Mickey Mouse Club." I also had people who reminded me through my adolescents that I was not the type for acting; in other words, I was fat. Needless to say, I never really had the chance to fulfill going to Broadway, but I did act in Fiddler on the Roof, in fact I was the understudy for the third daughter. I was even called to come audition for another play after that, but it never went anywhere.
5. Karaoke can't really count as being a singer so I need to do something for this dream to be fulfilled? Anyone want to higher me a mediocre singer for their wedding? I do a great rendition of "Torn Between Two Lovers." Oh wait...
6. This dream is another childhood dream that came to me as an older "kid." The idea of my words being read by someone else excites me to no end. The problem: Facebook and Blogspot are not going to make these dreams happen. I constantly say I have no time to write, but the truth is that I don't make the time. I also have got to get over the idea that someone WILL reject me. My work will not be to someone's liking and that is okay. If my one follower is reading this and knows someone in the business, please feel free to pass my name on.

Oy vey! Nothing like taking inventory of your life to realize what you have still yet to accomplish. It's almost exhausting.

I do like to think I have accomplished some other great things. I always knew I'd be a mom so I am not sure I ever had that as a dream, but to date the Bug is probably my greatest accomplishment. I also got through college and received a degree when the cards were stacked against me.

I guess I should sign off...the novel isn't going to write itself.