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As Christmas Eve is upon us, some thoughts:
And, three of my favorite things in one clip: Muppets, Christmas and Jimmy Fallon. Enjoy.
Better blogging in the New Year? Here's hoping!
This video makes me happy.
It's a sad statement that the thing in my life I'm most excited about right now is the new playlist I made in iTunes last night (seriously, though, I love it).
I don't care who you are; if you're not grinning like an idiot by the end of this video, you have a heart of stone. You probably hate puppies, too.
Some thoughts on a rainy Sunday afternoon:
1. I've accomplished shockingly little from my to-do list for the weekend. However, I don't care.
2. Glen Hansard's voice makes my insides go all silly.
3. I made coffee at home instead of stopping at Dutch Bros. on my way home from Mass. Proud of myself for saving a few dollars. Unfortunately, I used the last of the bag and now have none for tomorrow morning. This is distressing.
4. My dreams have become increasingly lame lately. No lie, I dreamt the other night that I wanted to find new bedside tables for my room, and then planned to paint my bedroom furniture. Who dreams about crap like that?! Me, it would seem.
5. I have no other thoughts at this time.
6. I lied just now.
7. The other day, one of my clients (a 4-year-old girl) was playing with two toy turtles while I was taking down some data. I glanced up to see how she was doing, and I saw her put the turtles' hands together and say "yeah!". She made the turtles high-5 each other. Some days, I really do love my job.
8. < /thoughts >
So here's a fun story from the Conversations with Coworkers File:
Was walking in downtown Cd'A this afternoon with Amazonian and some kids. We passed the restaurant where I had my first (and last) date since moving to Idaho way, waaaay back when. I commented that the food was excellent and mentioned said date. This reminded her of a conversation she'd had with her fiance a few months ago, wherein he'd asked her if she had any single friends for his friend. She thought of me, as we had just talked about my singleness a few days before. A paraphrased exchange:
"Is she slutty?"
"Yeah, I haven't known her that long, but I don't get that vibe from her. I'm going to go with no."
"Well, I think he's looking for someone sort of skanky."
"If that changes, maybe we can revisit this idea."
So it's nice to know that Mission: Don't Act Like A Slut has been successful.
I'm flattered that she initially thought of me?
I don't know.
Moving on.
I wonder what the odds are that I'll actually go to the gym tomorrow after work if I try justify not going tonight with that excuse? Probably not good. In my defense, I had every intention of taking workout clothes with me this morning and heading over there this afternoon after my client had been picked up. I just ran out of time this morning! Promise.
MIKE: "Hotels are a naturally creepy place... Just think, how many people have slept in that bed before you? How many of them were sick? How many... died?"
I'll never be able to sleep in a hotel bed again. THANKS A LOT.
If I merely recognize that I am of a passive-aggressive nature, is that enough? Or do I actually have to try and correct that part of myself?
Some fantastic quotes from today:
"Hi Cory, nice hair."
"Thanks, buddy."
"Where did you get your hair?"
*
"Cory, is it time to go to grandma and grandpa's house?"
"Yeah, buddy, we're on our way."
"Yaaay, going to grandma and grandpa's house!"
(silence)
"Cory, can you say that? Can you say 'yaaay'?"
"Um, yaaay?"
I'm by no means a food blogger (hell, I'm hardly a blogger to begin with), but OH. MY. GOSH. this soup is amazing. Leave it to those crafty Italians to cut out the middle man and put the bread INTO the soup. Please make this soup. It's fantastic. And super easy.
Ribollita con Verdure
as written by Rachael Ray
3 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil, plus some for drizzling
4 thick slices pancetta or bacon, chopped
2 sprigs fresh rosemary, leaves finely chopped
4 to 6 cloves garlic, chopped
1 medium to large onion, finely chopped
2 medium carrots, diced
1 medium, skinny zucchini, cut into thin slices
Salt and pepper
1/2 cup dry red wine
1 (15-ounce) can petite diced or chunky style crushed tomatoes
6 cups beef stock
4 cups, about 1/2 pound, chopped or torn stale bread
2 (15-ounce), small white beans
4 cups chopped kale or chard
1/2 cup grated Parmigiano-Reggiano, to pass at table
Directions
Heat a soup pot over medium-high heat. Add oil and the pancetta or bacon and render 4 minutes. Add rosemary, the garlic, 3/4 of the onions, carrots and zucchini and season with salt and pepper. Sauté the veggies 7 to 8 minutes, then add wine and deglaze the pot. Stir in the tomatoes and stock and bring up the heat. When soup boils, reduce to a simmer and stir in bread and beans. Pile the greens into the pot and wilt them into the soup. Simmer the ribollita 5 to 10 minutes, stirring soup as it simmers until it thickens to a dense stew-like consistency. A wooden spoon should be able to stand upright in the pot. Turn off heat, adjust seasonings and ladle into shallow bowls. Top with grated cheese, an additional drizzle of extra-virgin olive oil, and a spoonful of reserved finely chopped raw onions.
(Stale bread would probably be even better, but I was too impatient to wait another day, so I bought a round loaf of dense bread and it turned out just fine.)
(Also, I put a little extra zucchini in, because zucchini is wonderful)
(Also, also, put the onions and cheese on top at the end. SO WORTH IT.)
Have been sitting at kitchen table for 45 minutes.
Goal:
make a dent in this progress report.
Have actually accomplished:
-Eaten an apple.
-Synced iPhone and figured out where a song disappeared to.
-Scoured Facebook and Twitter for anything of vital importance and/or mild interest.
-Looked longingly at iPhone.
-Found a fun list: "50 Things to See, Hear and Do this Fall".
-Decided to write blog post.
-Written half of one page of progress report.
As you can see, it's been a productive hour.
Watch this:
Now, go see this movie as soon as humanly possible.
Dear people of the universe:
Please stop asking me if I know anything about my damn project.
I do not yet know if I passed.
When I know, you will know.
Until then, kindly refrain from bringing it up.
I cannot be held responsible for the string of expletives that my pour forth from my mouth.
Kisses!
Me.
I'm wicked excited for the release of "Inglourious Basterds".
Not because I want to see it or anything.
I'm just tired of listening to Brad Pitt speaking in that obnoxious accent about "killin' nat-zis".
You don't even know how hard I laughed the first time I saw this. Thank you, F/X, for running "The Day After Tomorrow" one night when there was nothing else on.
I love my little brother.
Hey! Hi! So.
Fingers crossed, I should know the grade for my corrected IBI project by the end of the week. Either I get a raise, or I get a new job. Woo!
Speaking of work, I started working with a new client a few weeks ago. He JUST turned 3, so this kid is pretty much brand new to therapy. He was dressed like a little hipster today: little rolled-up faux distressed jeans, polo shirt and Vans. The only thing that would have made it even more adorable is if he still had his pompadour-esque half mohawk. If I could legally post a picture, I would. You don't even know.
Here's a little something for your trouble.
I know I should be happy that the kids in our complex are outside playing instead of sitting inside, glued to an x-box or something, but seriously? The screaming? I deal with screaming all day long. It would be nice to be able to escape it when I get home.
But whatever.
Today was better than I thought it would be. Better than yesterday, anyway.
Good grief, Cory.
I obsess and obsess and obsess, and does it ever get me anywhere?
Get a grip, woman.
I feel restless. Stupid Idaho.
I know I just got back from Ireland, like, yesterday, but I want to get out of here again. If anyone finds a cheap ticket to Pittsburgh and/or DC, let me know.
Happy almost-birthday to me.
From the G-Chat files:
Schmoopy, being the witty wordsmith that she is, helped me write a letter.
Schmoopy: then you could say...so, moving on....
blah blah blah cory smooth talking blah blha
me: well sure
thanks for being my cyrano
or my cicero
whichever you prefer
Schmoopy: shut up
me: serpico?
Schmoopy: LOL
me: I'm done, I promise
Schmoopy: Cory, can I be your Serpico?
me: always
Schmoopy: woo!
I am beyond livid right now.
A couple of months ago, Medicaid cut the number of hours per week of IBI that a child can receive from 30 to 22. We all knew that this would make summer schedules extremely tricky to arrange, but Boss Lady assured us all that we would be able to get at least 30 hours per week, if not a few more. All well and good.
I started the Monday after school got out working 7 hour days, four with one client and three with another. After that first day, our agency decided not to take the contract on my first client, and since then I've had one steady case that gives me 15 hours a week. I've been able to cover some other kids in the mornings, but it's been patchy and unreliable, to say the least. I texted Boss Lady about available hours yesterday morning when I found out the kiddo I was supposed to cover was sick, and she replied that she had been contacted about a referral and if that came through, I could do the assessment and work with that client. I took this to mean that there were really no available hours, and while I know that some people are working close to, if not more than, 40 hours, a lot of us were kind of in the same boat. Fine, I can handle that. Economy, Medicaid and all that.
Got a text from a coworker this morning asking if I needed hours. I replied that I did, thinking that maybe she wanted to take a day off and I could cover for her, but I didn't hear anything back from her after that. Another coworker texted me a bit later with this:
This system is beyond broken.
Can we take a minute and talk about today? Because, today? Kind of awful. And by "today", I do mean "the portion of today from 12-3".
There was poop. OH, was there poop. TWICE. In the same afternoon. From the same child. Who should NOT be pooping his pants at this point.
After I picked him up from lunch, we stopped by Fred Meyer to pick up the ring that I had dropped off to be sized last week. Not wanting to turn the AC on, I rolled down all four windows in the car. From the back passenger side window, I heard a thunk. The regulator is shot! Isn't that fun? This has happened before, to the opposite rear window, which is the only way I know what the hell a regulator is.
We met a coworker of mine at the park, and Child decided to push the girl she was working with because she didn't want to play with him. Then I got to race up the play structure, nearly slipping and cracking my head, to head off the full-on behavior, though he did manage to smack my sunglasses crooked before I got him to settle down.
My job is friggen awesome. Although, there was one sweet moment during which I was kneeling in a park restroom trying to clean Child's poop before he has a chance to stim in it. As I leaned over, my ponytail fell over my shoulder, and Child says, "Cory, you have nice hair". Can you even HANDLE that? Also, when he verbal-stims with my name, he calls me "Curree", which is slightly adorable.
Also, WHEN can I get a decent night's sleep again? Seriously. Thank you.
Today I'm billing Medicaid for sitting at a client's kitchen table and playing Falling Gems on my phone while she cleans her room.
Sometimes, IBI is a pretty sweet deal.
I am nothing if not a skilled procrastinator, so I'm blogging. Whee!
Not that I have much to say.
My baby brother is all growed up and graduated from high school this past weekend. Next weekend he turns 18 and promptly flies to Jamaica for a mission trip. It amazes me how close we've become over the past few years, even given our 6-year age difference. The organizers of his mission asked family and friends to write letters to the kids that they'll receive once they're down in Jamaica. As I reflected on what to write to him, I realized that that kid, as frustrating and annoying as he can be, has become one of my favorite people in the world, and one of my best friends. We share thick, dark, curly hair, a love of stupid movies, and our dad's sense of humor (for better or for worse, depending on if you ask my mom). I love my little brother.
Summer schedules started this week. Monday was awful and frustrating and exhausting and I truly had to fight to keep from crying for a lot of the day. Tuesday was way better! So I have that going for me... and that's nice.
Got a text from my supervisor the yesterday asking how my project corrections were coming along. Uh... what? I definitely fibbed and told her that I was in the process of rewriting and should be done in about week. Guess what I'm doing tonight? Hence the blog post? And the incessant Facebook/Twitter stalking? Good times.
In other news, my anxiety is back, so woo!
If this doesn't scream Too Lazy To Write An Actual Blog Post, I don't know what does.
Discussing the merits of online dating with Schmoopy. Topic: What to list under interests?
Schmoopy: what else do i like to do? be domestic. be your wife. have your babies. uh, i mean...uh...what?
me: hahaha
well, I like to ovulate, and be fertile...
Schmoopy: Oh.
thank God,.
my office door is closed
me: LOL
I love you
Schmoopy: i couldnt even write that in one sentence
i was laughing so hard
me: haha so I gathered
My little brother makes me giggle sometimes.
me: did mom take you to lunch today for the last day of school?
Lil Brudder: no...we had to stay the WHOLE DAY!
me: THE INJUSTICE
Lil Brudder: its a travesty
Just try and tell me that this isn't awesome.
Ireland came and went. It was amazing and one of the greatest moments of my life to date. And now, it's back to reality.
Life is, once again, all about my project. There are six days left in the school year, which means that I have six days in which to get supervisor observations and yet another video done. The rest is all rewriting various bits of my project, and the whole thing isn't due back to Boise until July 21 (happy birthday to me, indeed). To my own surprise, I actually feel confident that Boss Lady and I can knock out the really pressing parts this week and then I can breathe easier knowing that I won't have to try and work things out with the group home over the summer.
Summer! I talked to Boss Lady about my summer schedule this morning, and while I know she was trying to talk it up to reassure me (based on an e-mail I wrote her a few weeks ago), I feel pretty good about it. For the moment, anyway.
T-minus 2 work days until I'm out of here for two weeks. SO. EXCITED. Also exciting? IBI ladies' happy hour Friday afternoon. And seeing "Spamalot" with my mom Friday night. And flying to DC Saturday morning. And flying to Ireland Sunday evening. And spending ten days in Ireland.
I'm trying to ride out the last few weeks of the school year with a little bit of grace and patience. It's going to be tough, of this I am sure. The teachers and I sat down this afternoon and talked about how The Switch was going, and I was able to be honest without crying and without getting defensive. It was nice to clear the air and at least lay the cards on the table, so to speak. They asked me if I had plans for next year and I definitely lied and told them I didn't know. To be honest, I don't. At this point, I'm basically looking for any excuse to look for a new job and/or move out of Godforsaken. My boss wants to put me with two more difficult kids over the summer, and I think it just may break my spirit completely. With the discouragement of failing my project the first time around, I don't know if doing IBI is worth it anymore. I don't know. Time for a novena, I guess.
I belong to the Seattle Mariners LJ group, and it's been pretty quiet there since the season started. It's not that the Ms are playing poorly, overall; in fact, they're leading the AL West by 3.5 games. Last night it was tied 7-7 against the As, and Jose Lopez stayed alive through 14 pitches to finally get the base hit that brought Endy Chavez home, winning the game. Anyway, someone posted in the LJ group, asking why no one was posting now that we're in the thick of the season. This reply sums it up nicely: "We're too stunned to post, and too jaded to be optimistic."
Sorry, that just made me giggle.
Other things that are making me happy:
-This time next week, I'll be in DC with Schmoopy.
-A week from tomorrow, we'll be on our way to Ireland.
-Awesomeness shall ensue.
"A long time ago I went to a concert with my friend Rebecca. Rebecca can sing better than anybody I've ever heard sing. I heard this folksinger was coming to town, and I thought she might like to see him because she was a singer too. The tickets were twenty bucks, which is a lot to pay if you're not on a date. Between songs, though, he told a story that helped me resolve some things about God. The story was about his friend who is a Navy SEAL. He told it like it was true, so I guess it was true, although it could have been a lie.
"The folksinger said his friend was performing a covert operation, freeing hostages from a building in some dark part of the world. His friend's team flew in by helicopter, made their way to the compound and stormed into the room where the hostages had been imprisoned for months. The room, the folksinger said, was filthy and dark. The hostages were curled up in a corner, terrified. When the SEALS entered the room, they heard the gasps of the hostages. They stood at the door and called to the prisoners, telling them that they were Americans. The SEALS asked the hostages to follow them, but the hostages wouldn't. They sat there on the floor and hid their eyes in fear. They were not of healthy mind and didn't believe their rescuers were really Americans.
"The SEALS stood there, not knowing what to do. They couldn't possibly carry everybody out. One of the SEALS, the folksinger's friend, got an idea. He put down his weapon, took off his helmet, and curled up tightly next to the other hostages, getting so close that his body was touching some of theirs. He softened the look on his face and put his arms around them. He was trying to show that he was one of them. None of the prison guards would have done this. He stayed there for a little while until some of the hostages started to look at him, finally meeting his eyes. The Navy SEAL whispered that they were Americans and were there to rescue them. Will you follow us? he said. The hero stood to his feet and one of the hostages did the same, then another, until all of them were willing to go. The story ends with all the hostages safe on an American aircraft carrier.
"I never liked it when the preachers said we had to follow Jesus. Sometimes they would make Him sound angry. But I liked the story the folksinger told. I liked the idea of Jesus becoming man, so that we would be able to trust Him, and I liked that He healed people and loved them and cared deeply about how people were feeling."
-Donald Miller, Blue Like Jazz
Many sleeps ago, I had planned on doing Bloomsday this year. That's definitely not happening. Also, won't be doing the run in the RC that same weekend (seriously, who plans a fun run on the same weekend as freaking Bloomsday?? Someone didn't think that one through).
I think I finally discovered just how far my technology-geekdom reaches: I saw a commercial (or something, I don't even remember now) for the Kindle last night, and Handsy sighed about how badly she wanted one. I have to say, I don't quite understand the point of them, not to mention the appeal. Maybe it's just me, but I prefer an actual book. You know, with pages. I know, right? Who knew I was such a snob?
9 days till Ireland. I may pass out.
I had vague plans to clean this afternoon.
I have no idea what Fail (AKA Sassbucket and/or Schmoopy) and I were thinking when we decided to go to Ireland. We're leaving in 12 days (12 days!) and I am living in a constant state of panic attack. I've never been very skilled at packing lightly, but I'm trying my damnedest to scale back and (I hope, I hope) I'll be able to throw everything into the backpack I borrowed from my brother. I'm afraid of both over-packing and under-packing. It's a tough life for the Europe-bound.
Spent the evening after work making what will forever be known as Sunshine's Vegetable Soup. The nice thing about the frigid weather we've been having this week is I don't feel too weird about making soup for dinner; come August, no way. There's something about using herbs you grew yourself and organic vegetables that's so much more satisfying than cooking any other way. I like. Tomorrow, I'm baking bread to replenish our supply. LOOK AT ME BEING DOMESTIC.
(Apologies for the all-caps look. I've been reading the archives on dooce.com a little too much)
Work developments:
1. Finally told middle school staff exactly what I think about their stupid split-schedule idea. Did not mention that I won't be back next year for them to jerk around. Satisfaction: +1.
2. Last day with J is a week from today. Pardon me while I do a cartwheel, followed by a happy dance.
3. Spent an hour and a half after staffing yesterday going over my poor, defeated little project with M, Boss Lady and KJ. Then I came home and wept. I feel a little better about it now. I have until June 4 to correct the mistakes and resubmit. And if I don't pass yet again? Time to look for a new job! Woo!
Friday's show was fantastic. I didn't bring my camera because I was unsure as to what seating, etc. was going to be like, and I knew I wasn't going to take my purse in, so I was left with iPhone's teeny camera.
So, Ra Ra Riot? Meh. I appreciated the addition of a cello and violin immensely, but they just didn't do it for me. Also, the cellist was wearing a romper. A ROMPER. I tried to like it, I really did, because it was a pretty color and she belted it nicely and her shoes were adorable, but the woman was wearing a ONESIE. Thumbs down.
Let me just stop right now and explain my love for Cold War Kids. I first heard of them as part of a podcast, and I bought their album my senior year of college. It's unique and weird and completely unlike much of the music I listen to, but there's something about Nathan Willet's voice that gives me shivers and a warm fuzzy feeling all at the same time. They played my two favorite songs from "Robbers and Cowards": "Hospital Beds" and "Rubidoux". Also, I bought their new album after the show, and it's even better than the first. They put on a kick-ass show, second only to Mute Math's live performances.
Death Cab played a lot of songs that pop up on my Pandora stations a lot, so that was nice. I have to admit that I don't actually own any of their albums, though I have some individual songs, but now I'm excited to download some more of their stuff (in my defense, I've been trying for a long time to decide which album to download first; I'm just indecisive like that). Good show all around, though I wish our side of the venue hadn't felt the need to stand the entire time.
Too worn out from this insane day to form paragraphs. Tonight's blog post will be bullet-pointed for my own convenience.
*DEATH CAB AND COLD WAR KIDS ON FRIDAY. I might be feeling a slight twinge of excitement. Also exciting: hanging out with Mel again.
*Got my score back for my project, and guess who tanked 6 of the 9 activities? OOH, PICK ME!
*Have recently learned that the life skills teachers at the middle school are afraid of me. It's weird having this much power. It's also reaffirming my decision to ask to be reassigned in the fall.
*Ireland is in 17 days. HOLY CRAP MUCH? Planning to enjoy the Irish countryside as far as my moral sensibilities will allow me.
*The Crazies are moving to Moscow at the end of May, which means that I most DEFINITELY will not have to deal with another summer of phone calls from Boss Lady that always start with "So, the [name]s called me just now and...". Added bonus: decreases possibility that I will have to share a caseload with Annoying Coworker Who Offers Unsolicited Financial Advice And Calls To Ask About Houses For You To Rent That Are Located Directly Next To His.
I'm about to write a blog post about poop.
You've been warned.
To add to the list of places I'm contemplating moving to if things don't improve at the middle school: Yakima.
Moving on.
I spent most of the morning thinking about this mushy, corny blog post that I was going write when I got home, all about how things are going well at work and my job is so rewarding, etc., etc. And then T decided to stick his shoe in the toilet. The magic was kind of gone after that. But I came home and had a snack and now I feel like writing a mushy post again. So woo!
I've been feeling a little overpaid these days (but only a little). It sounds cliche, but sometimes IBI is really rewarding. I've known T for a year and a half now and have been working with him every day (with the exception of school breaks), and I spent a lot of today thinking about how much progress he's made, just by having a consistent schedule and therapists who actually communicate with each other. He's in such a good groove right now that I feel comfortable giving him a little more space and independence (but oh, did we have a battle when he was trying to earn that independence). The child bathrooms himself now, for crying out loud! When I first started at the middle school, the paras were doing everything for him. EVERYTHING. They unbuttoned his freaking pants for him, which he is so capable of doing. It's amazing. And then sometimes, he stims with his shoes and dips them in the toilet, because who the hell doesn't just love doing that? Serious.
K, on the other hand, is a different story. She's regressed a lot. BUT! We've started saving her lunch for her, because she eats about two bites and then tries to throw her food and then she's hungry and pissy the rest of the day and it's a big headache for all involved. Anyway, saving her lunch. When she gets her work done with me in the afternoons, she gets to have a snack, but starting today, she either eats the rest of her lunch or she gets nothing at all until she gets home, which is another place that she's stopped eating. When snack time rolled around today (another battle just getting there), she said 'no' to her leftover lunch, walked to the cupboards and reached out her hand for help opening the door. I told her what the new deal was, and she walked over to her tray AND SIGNED 'YES'. AND THEN SHE ATE HER LUNCH. She mostly turned up her nose at the chicken sandwich (not that I blame her; the meat was GRAY), but she ate her fries, cookies and pineapple AND WAS HAPPY ABOUT IT.
You have to savor the small victories with this job.
In other news, a few random thoughts:
*Yay for babies! Both Nelly and Will and Lindsey and Louis are having boys!
*What does it say about my relationship with our DVR that I forgot a certain TV show had a freaking THEME SONG?
Reasons I am currently extra joyful:
*It's 62 degrees right now. And sunny.
*I'm wearing flip-flops to staffing, yes I am.
*Kiddo #1 was fascinated by my new shoes, but did not, repeat, did NOT kick my ankles because I was wearing new shoes.
*Kiddo #2 got on the bus without fighting me or throwing a tantrum.
*Did I mention 62 degrees? And sunny?
*I bought the "Slumdog Millionaire" soundtrack and it's fantastic.
*I found a shortcut for my walk to and from work that shaves a good 6 minutes off the commute. I don't have to leave the house until 7:20 now!
*Ireland is in 34 days.
*I got a letter from Schmoopy in the mail today.
*I didn't feel like strangling anyone today! Not even the rude middle schoolers!
*62! Degrees! And! Sunny!
Was instructed by Starbuck to blog something. Here goes.
Seriously, I am loving spring break. I didn't have to pick up T until 11 this morning. 11! I sat in my pajamas and drank my coffee and read the paper. Then I worked 11-3 and came home! It was brilliant. I know a few of my coworkers are bored with the break already because it's hard to think of things to do with the kids, especially since the weather has been so crummy, but I'm enjoying it. There's no middle school, no severely autistic kids, no 7:30 am.
Still don't entirely know if my vacation request for Ireland was approved. My boss tends to hang onto them and work out the coverage details on the same form, and she hasn't specifically told me that it's not been approved, but I'm still a little nervous. Maybe it won't get the OK and I'll have to quit and that will be the catalyst for the job change I've been toying with! Oh, but let's not think about that. That would be a little sad.
I suck at saving. Well, saving money, that is. Any random paper that might one day be useful for a mere two seconds? Got it. But I can't hold on to money to save my life (or something less dramatic). I've definitely improved my skills over the years, to be sure. I have a vivid memory of being... oh, maybe in second grade or so and trying so hard to try and scrape together $20 because I wanted a super cool clock radio just like the one my older brother had (a clock radio which, by the way, I still have and use. Wow).
When I first moved to CDA, I had a few financial close calls; ten bucks an hour doesn't add up to be quite as much as the pesky rent/other expenses (you know, like food), so I've tried extra hard since then to hang on to my money. And I've done a pretty good job! Passing the IBI exam and getting a 70% raise (how do you like them math skills) didn't hurt, either. Anywho, the point: I'm wrestling with a spend-it-or-save-it dilemma. I do have a big trip to Ireland coming up that I need to save for. But I just got my tax return! But the responsible thing to do would be to lay off the spending, since I just bought tickets to see Death Cab and Cold War Kids (eee!) next month. But the things I want now are on sale! But do you really need them? But look how cute this scarf is! And these earrings! And this hat! I love hats!
I dunno. It was blog about this or clean.
Saturday of the 3rd week of Lent
First reading
Hosea 5:15-6:6
The Lord says this:
They will search for me in their misery.
‘Come, let us return to the Lord.
He has torn us to pieces, but he will heal us;
he has struck us down, but he will bandage our wounds;
after a day or two he will bring us back to life,
on the third day he will raise us
and we shall live in his presence.
Let us set ourselves to know the Lord;
that he will come is as certain as the dawn
his judgement will rise like the light,
he will come to us as showers come,
like spring rains watering the earth.’
What am I to do with you, Ephraim?
What am I to do with you, Judah?
This love of yours is like a morning cloud,
like the dew that quickly disappears.
This is why I have torn them to pieces by the prophets,
why I slaughtered them with the words from my mouth,
since what I want is love, not sacrifice;
knowledge of God, not holocausts.
Occasionally, I let my imagination run a little wild. I picture myself moving to the DC area to be nearer to my college friends. I imagine taking a trip to New York, falling in love with the city and staying for a few years. In what may be the most plausible fantasy (not that that's saying much), my upcoming trip to Ireland includes a chance meeting in a pub that turns out to be a major life event. Like I said, I tend to exaggerate these daydreams. The common thread in these is, of course, moving across the country (or the ocean). That makes me wonder.
What would that do to my family? What about the friends I've finally managed to make here in Idaho? Would I be strong enough to put that much distance between myself and home? I did it once when I left for Ohio, knowing all the while that it was only temporary. Maybe I'm just burned out and living for spring break, but these days I seem to find myself daydreaming more and more. I've been toying with the idea of a job change and/or grad school for a few months now. A radical job change, at that: something completely unrelated to autism or IBI. Now that I've finished my project and turned it into my supervisor, I wonder what's keeping me at FSS. Okay, granted, I want to wait and find out if I passed my project and reap the benefit that comes along with that (who doesn't love a raise?), but what about after that? As it is, I'll cap out at $20 an hour and that's the end of that as long as I work at Family Support.
Thinking about possibilities leads my mind down another path: what does God have planned for me? I feel like I might be called to marriage, but to be honest, I'm terrified to discern any other vocation. For so long, I've always planned on getting married one day, but maybe that's not my true vocation. I often imagine (there's that word again) what my PostSecret would say. It's changed several times as my secrets have changed, but currently it says something along these lines: The idea of never getting married no longer scares me. What scares me now is that I'm 23 and have no trouble accepting that. Do with that what you will, but yeah, I'm scared. The future is uncertain, and that's incredibly uncomfortable for me.
I guess what I'm trying to get at is, if the future is so up in the air, what's stopping me from picking up and making some radical life change (aside from the aforementioned family and friends worries)? Who's to say I wouldn't love DC, or New York, or Ireland? Then again, why is a cross-country move the first solution I entertain when I find myself in a thoughtful mood like this? Who knows.
............................
In other news, I'm feeling much more comfortable at St. Joan of Arc than I ever did at St. Thomas. Definitely the right move there. Traditional Catholics are a kick sometimes, man. What a 180 from Mass in Post Falls. AND, I haven't run into Brian yet, so that's cool. Oh, the awkwardness that would ensue.
To do this weekend:
-Finish my IBI project (at last!)
-Clean the house/unpack already
-Go to the library
-Go running
-Go to confession
-Plan meals for the next week or two
-Go to the grocery store
-Take some stuff to Goodwill
-Hit up Harmony Yarn in CDA so I can finish Claire's scarf
-Bake bread, make applesauce
-Get a haircut?
Spring Break Countdown: 15 days. I need to get away from middle schoolers like you wouldn't believe. Nothing drives me closer to the brink of uttering profanities (as opposed to just cursing at them in my head) than inconsiderate 12-year-olds. If I get run over by one more seventh grader who's too busy texting the person walking DIRECTLY NEXT TO THEM I will snap. Look for me on the news.
Today's redeeming moment: Sitting in the hammock swing with K for ten minutes at the end of the day, tickling her tummy while we swing back and forth and side to side. So cute sometimes! Yeah, I know, she's 12 and is probably too old to be sitting on my lap at all, but come on: her developmental age is way, way below her chronological age. And she's so freaking adorable when she wants to be.
Have officially become obsessed with baking my own bread. I bitterly took a slice of store-bought bread to work to eat with my soup today, even though I made three loaves on Sunday, because the saver in me cannot bear the thought of wasting four dumb slices of whole-wheat bread from Wal-Mart. BUT. I think I have Handsy on board with not buying bread anymore. Because I will bake every weekend. It's so soothing to me. And the outcome is so enjoyable. So, so good.
Tonight, I will:
1. Work on my project (due Monday! Eep!)
2. Paint my nails
3. Work on Inadequate's scarf
4. Try to find the motivation to finally unpack all the way (Don't judge me. The only stuff left to be unpacked is some random kitchen stuff and books. I swear!)
Haven't done the Friday Five in ages, but what better way to procrastinate?
1. When you're sick do you tend to call in sick and stay home or tough it out and go to work or school?
I rarely, if ever, call in sick. I'm congested about 95% of the time anyway, so it takes a lot for me to decide that I can't work. I almost called in Thursday, though. If I were to get the flu or something more serious than a cold, I'd more than likely call in. I do remember skipping a day of classes at Franciscan once.
2. Do you have any favorite medicine that you like to take while sick?
My standard cocktail of Sudafed and Advil. If I can feel a cold coming on (meaning I have a scratchy throat), I take Zicam every three hours and it seems to help.
3. When you're sick is there a certain food or drink that makes you feel better? If yes what?
Tea, tea, and more tea.
4. Do you take anything daily to prevent you from getting sick? (Vitamins, Emergen-C etc)
I try to remember to take Airborne, because I work with kids, but I usually fail at remembering to take it on a regular basis.
5. When you're sick do you have any comforting items that you like to have? ( a certain blanket, pillow, or clothing)
Just my sweats and my bed.
I was talking to my project supervisor today (who was at school to tape me for said project) and she asked about my scapular, which was peeking up above my collar. As it turns out, she's also Catholic, and she and her family go to St. Joan of Arc in CDA, which is a traditional Latin Mass parish. I ended up explaining my issues with St. George's to her, and she completely understood where I was coming from. It was so refreshing! In talking to her, I think I've pretty much made up my mind to drive to CDA on Sundays to go to St. Joan. I think that's the closest thing I'll find to Franciscan around here (in terms of reverence and respect for the Eucharist, at least). So, woo!
IBI Project Countdown: 13 days.
Ireland Countdown: 68 days.
Have been reading many, many food blogs as of late. I blame my sister-in-law Starbuck and Mo for encouraging this. But I won't hold it against them. Speaking of food, going running has worked up an appetite...
Many sleeps ago, my dad had a t-shirt that read, "When all else fails, manipulate the data".
Working on my project is flashing me back to that shirt.
Just got back from Ash Wednesday Mass. I've now been to Mass twice at St. George's, and I have to say that I'm not terribly pleased with it. The fact that I get to participate in the most holy sacrifice is amazing, of course, but the lack of reverence and respect for not just for the Eucharist but for other members of the congregation and the sanctuary itself is shocking. I've noticed people holding full conversations during Mass. The time of adoration after communion is practically non-existent. I prayed extra hard for charity tonight.
It's particularly frustrating because this church is the only Catholic church in the RC that is in line with Rome. One of the selling points on our new house (for me, anyway) was that St. George's is literally a three minute walk from our front door. 1:45 if I walk fast. My other option would be to drive to St. Thomas', which would be only a slight improvement, really.
I think Franciscan ruined me.
I had a meeting with my IBI project supervisor last night. She had been in contact with the offices in Boise to find out my official deadline. According to their records, it's due March 1. You know, 5 days from now. Cursecursecurse. However, the project guidelines were rather radically changed on October 1 of last year, so my project isn't actually due until April 1. Due to be down in Boise, that is. My project supervisor needs to add her input and scoring before she mails it off, meaning it needs to be in her hands by mid-March. You know, three weeks from now. Cursecursecurse. Thankfully, her advice to me was to pad my writing by pulling from my own knowledge of my kiddo, whom I've worked with since November of '07. So I'm less stressed now, but still pretty damn stressed. So there's that.
Decided to give up Facebook for Lent. I finally narrowed it down to that or peanut butter, but I didn't think swearing off peanut butter for 40 days would be quite the same kind of sacrifice. I guess I could have given up cereal, because I really, really like cereal. Like, a lot. At least one bowl per day, but usually more than that. Hmm. I'll give it some more thought tonight. I wish Handsy was here to give me some immediate advice.
Having trouble deciding what to give up for Lent. The obvious choice would be coffee, but I'm fairly certain the copious amounts of coffee I consume each week are essential to the rotation of the earth and the well-being of humanity. Also, it keeps me sane enough to keep my job. So I hesitate to go off coffee for 40 days. Beyond that, I'm unsure of what to give up that would be a true sacrifice.
Speaking of Lent, I refuse to eat shrimp stir-fry every Friday. I've been collecting vegetarian and fish recipes and I am very excited about fish on Fridays this year. The first one I'm going to try is salmon with puff pastry and pesto. I can't wait.
Many thanks to the kind person (city employee?) that plowed the edges and sidewalks of Spokane Street yesterday. You made my commute (walk) so much more pleasant.
I'm waiting for Adobe to download. In theory, it will make working on my project that much easier. I'm currently transferring pages to Word and editing that way.
Whilst I wait, I've been looking through my old layouts from outofmyself.net. Such nostalgia! At the time, I thought my graphic design skills were sorely lacking, but I can see how I grew throughout the life of the site, so that's kind of neat. I miss tooling around with photoshop and php from time to time. I still have a file full of layouts in progress. Aw, good times.
