Alrighty then

So I pretty much quit my job.
Now I need a new one. In CdA.
Pretty please...

Shit that makes my eyes hurt

It makes me so mad lately. Facebook. The people on it that just posts and shares whatever shit they think they agree with/support/stand by... but really don't know anything about.
If you can explain the reasoning behind why you think a certain way or support/oppose a certain issue, then by all means, I support your right to do that.
I may not agree, but I will respect your opinion.
However, if you can't state your opinion in any other way than "...er.. well, that's just... duh... what I believe. Yeah. That's it. That's just the right thing. I believe. Cause.... yeah, I dunno...that is just how it is."
Then maybe it's really you ruining this country....?
Maybe?
I dunno....

Reality check

Life has been very intense lately.
Not in terms of work, school, money, deadlines, trainings, shit-that-doesn't-matter.
But in terms of what does.
Life has been intensely sharp around the edges, painfully defined, brutally concrete.
Brutal. To some.
And kind to some.
Life and all that matters.
Death, loss and the end of what gets to matter.
People celebrate, people mourn, people pray, people say they pray.. People forget. Some people forget. Some people forget what really matters. Me too.

Dreams & Reality (what is wrong with me anyways)

Right around 3am I had a very vivid dream that I had these crazy insane cramps. Like it was hurting sooo bad I couldn't stand up straight.
In my dream, that is.
In reality I was sleeping, so naturally laying down.
Then I woke up and took 3 advil.
Then, right before I woke up at 7:50am (in my dreams I hit snooze but I don't know... it somehow didn't transfer) I was snuggled up on a plush couch with Beyonce while we were watching Angelina Jolie do a cover of one of her songs. I have to say she had a decent voice, Angie, but it was obviously nothing like the real deal. And I also, me and Beyonce kind of got a feeling she was mocking her, especially with the outfit... neon green daisy dukes and hooker boots. Queen B did not approve.
Then I had to go to work.

Another silent rejection

Got another friend request on facebook today.
Another student or something that I'm sure I've met and that I'm sure is very nice and that I'm sure I'll meet again.
But no.
Not on my facebook.
I'm starting to draw the line. I got a late start separating my professional life and my personal life, so some people are already on the wrong side of that line.
But now that it's drawn, you guys can stop sending me requests. Or you can keep sending them and I can keep ignoring them.
Which ever works.

International family time

Spent a family packed weekend out in Buhl.
Love the fam and all, but only so much at a time, porfa. My dad, all the in-laws, cousins... and a new exchange student from the Czech Republic who's been dropped out in nowhere, redneck Buhl America, poor poor thing....

My mom called yesterday, as she always does on Sunday mornings, and I talked to her in the kitchen of Mary and Micah's new home, while the rest were watching football in the living room. The whole time Codee, 5 years old, kept running around me, giggling, and as soon as I hung up, she was like
"You was spoke Spanish!!"
and I told her
"No I didn't...."
"Yes, you did!"
"It wasn't Spanish..."
"Chinese..?"
"Nope"
"Mexican?"

Truly helping or just scoring karma points?

Last night I drove out to WalMart (to purchase a phone card I cannot possibly get anywhere else, I try not to shop there, ok? don’t judge. anyways ) and as I parked the car there was a guy, in the 40+ age range, sitting on the street corner, holding a sign.
I walked in a little bit of a loop to be able to read the sign, which said Hungry.
And then I went into the store.
I bought him a roast beef and cheddar sandwich. It took me forever to decide, not whether or not to buy anything, but what to buy.
Should I get a hot meal? Something from the deli? Does he like chicken? Fruit?

Once I had finally decided on a sandwich, roast beef seemed heartier than tuna… and then they were out of mayo, so I put back the mustard packages I had grabbed since I didn’t want it to seem like I didn’t think he should have mayo and I figured it would be awkward to stand out there, screaming over traffic, that I’m sorry but unfortunately they were out of mayo!

Anyways, grocery bags and sandwich in hand, I walked across the parking lot and over to him. He stood up as I got closer, hesitantly lowering the sign. I said “I got you a sandwich… I don’t know what you like, I hope it’s ok?” and cursed myself for not having asked before I went into the store. How hard would that have been?
Hey, I’m gonna grab you some food, what kinda stuff do you like?

His name was Sean. He said thank you so much for the sandwich and wished me a good night.
As I drove home, at first I felt pretty good about myself. I texted Dylan “I just bought some food for a homeless dude” Then I realized, how do I know he’s homeless? And who am I to just assume he’ll be thrilled with roast beef? Because he’s sitting on a sidewalk, he can’t be choosy? Should just appreciate anything?
I don’t know.
I don’t know.
His name was Sean and next time I see a Sean I’m going to ask what kind of food he likes.

Super cute

Last night I cried for an hour before going to bed. When I woke up I had some yellow crap in my eyes and now it looks like I have allergies/haven't slept in a week/an eye infection ...
One of those or a combination of all.
It's great. Super cute.
If you're into gremlins.

Don't Ask

My work computer thought it'd fun to switch things up, apparently, and changed my search engine from Google to Ask.
What the hell is Ask, you may ask?
A shitty, useless search engine, is what it is I will tell you.
Google is a site that became a verb. Ask is a verb trying to be a site.
Stop trying Ask.

Nights are getting cooler

Dylan's department had a get-together last night.
Last time they did an all inclusive departmental thing like that I was insanely bored, hungry and grumpy since nobody would talk to me, they served  ribs, beer and a bacon infused potato salad (which to a non-beer drinking veggo offers little to be excited about) and the professor hosting it really just kind of struck me as an arrogant bastard.
But last night there was a new host, some new people, a huge selection of veggies, dips and breads (still ribs though, maybe there's some strange connection between Political Science and ribs..?) and sure, plenty of beer, but also red wine to be enjoyed on back porch while the evening got cool and people talked about other things than how to clime the academic career ladder.
Nice.

Kikus!

Dylan's birthday is coming up and somehow I'm getting new skis. I don't know where the logic is in that but I don't care.
Ladies and Gents, this season I will be skiing Vokl's Kiku.
Holy snowballs, I know.
It's like a bad ass ski for the ladies who rip and shred and all that ski lingo.
I don't know that I can handle it.
But, you know... challenge accepted.

Lessons from Montana

I prefer having people around me.
Except when they're redneck-wannabe children, chugging whiskey, shooting guns and being assholes.
It'd be nice to have a dog when you camp. (and possibly at other times too)
Bozeman is a pretty cool town.
Fried sushi with cheese is spectacularly good. It pains me to say that the least authentic dish on the menu was by far my favorite. But it was. So, so good.

Check yourself

I just had to run the bookstore to see if they still have any copies of the textbook I’m using for my class. Cause I can’t yell at the students for not having the book if the bookstore is out. And I also don’t want to stand there like an idiot and wonder if they’re lying to me when they say
“but the bookstore is out… we couldn’t get it” ..
So, I had to see for myself. And they are actually out.
No yelling.

Fantasy or nightmare

There are many qualities I love and appreciate about my husband. One of them is that he doesn't play video games. If you can call that a quality, maybe it's more like a non-quality, an unquality... few things are bigger turn off/reason for despise/simply impossible to understand to me, than grown men who spend hours upon hours playing games that are typically either mindnumbingly violent or almost so real-sport-like that the only difference is that... well, you're not actually playing sports, you're sitting on your ass eating cheetos and drinking Dr. Pepper. 

With the violent games I guess it is preferable to get BBQ sauce all over your sweatpants and not shower for two days than to actually kill people, but this is all besides the point...
My point was going to be that it is once again the season for Fantasy Football and Dylan and his friends turn into teenage versions of bully-macho wannabe-coaches who trash talk each other over, and take unreasonable amounts of pride in, athletics acomplishments they had absolutely nothing to do with. At all. It's like a more social and disruptive version of  videogames, because it infects and ruins almost every aspect of their social life, social media interactions and casual conversations.
And mine too.

 

First day of school

And all these students are just running around like lost chickens, all over campus.
I feel equally strong urges to kick them out of the way and to take them by the hand and lead them to where they need to go.

Date Night!

We have something really special planned for tonight, my love and I.
Something we very rarely do, but tonight is a special occasion.
We both have to work late, but then... once work is finally over, we are going to meet up... In my office.... And work on our syllabi.
Yep, that's right.
Summer is over.

Misery loves company

Yay! My coworker is back from her "playcation".
She had a great week off from work and absolutely hates being back.
Well, too bad. I'm just glad I don't have to suffer alone anymore.

Just when you think..

this town couldn't possibly get any more depressing... you go visit the fair. And the place manages to outsuck itself, once again.
Thought about driving the minimum of 25 minutes of freeway to get to go swimming after work today, but nope... reservoir closed due to Swimmer's Itch.
Of course, of course it is.
Am I being unfair?
Am I expecting too much?
Well let's check in with a local patriot, shall we, and see what he suggests you do those blazing hot summer days?
What does he say?
- Stay inside
And I rest my case.

Doesn't exactly help

Oh, and also, my boss walks into my steamer of an office for our weekly meeting, sits down for like 5 minutes before she decides it's too hot and she can't stand it. So she heads off to her own (needless to say, AC-equipped office) and I'm like "Mkay, I'll be right here....just melting away"

Icky

I'm parked in front of the AC unit in my office. It's on full blast, if somebody were to come see me I'd have to turn it off in order to be able to hear them.
But what it makes up for in noise, it lacks in efficiency.
It's so freaking hot in here I feel like I'm sweating out the lotion I put on a week ago... or something equally unpleasant.

We were surely trampled by turtles

My face feels crisp and I have a van full of dirty clothes, empty food containers and muddy linens to unpack.
After I get home at around 9:30 tonight.
Leaving is great. Coming back sucks.

Also, here's my two cents about bluegrass, after a weekend of listening to nothing else, when they don't sing for long minutes at a time but just go bananas on their stringy instruments... it's really cool and very impressive on the one hand, and on the other hand, it all ends up kinda sounding the same... at least to my untrained ear.

4 years

Why is 3 years leather and 4 years linen/silk?
I mean silk is nicer, but leather seems stronger...
Oh well. I'm hoping for a back rub.
And counting on a fun weekend of camping and bluegrass.

Communication

When you send out an e-mail, stating fact X or whatever, and then you get a response that basically says "I didn't really read your e-mail but actually, X is how it is..." and you get all what the heck, that's exactly what I just said... you still don't send another e-mail stating that you already stated those same facts, right?
No, you're just left with an unfair feeling of being the dumb one. 

I knew this would happen

I absolutely hate, hate I tell you, hate the feeling of suffocating sunshine and unbearable heat when you have to work. In proper clothes. With crappy AC and no lake or any other form of water (except a shower) waiting for you when the work day is over.

The first Monday back at work after more than a month of vacation.
I've had better days.

Red, White & Blue

He didn't find any fellow Americans. Didn't get any sunshine, or fireworks, or... you know, any of that stuff.
No parade.
But we made slushy, layerd, blue, white and red drinks, had a BBQ and did our best to pretend we actually cared about the 4th July.
A fun night, though, that ended with some deep discussions about hockey and the NHL, which... I really don't care about either.

The things I see through their eyes now...

Suddenly, seeing my dad sit in front of the computer in just his briefs.... remembering that of course there is no free refill on my coke, asking myself if I have enough change to pay for a bathroom visit... it seems... a little strange.
Almost foreign.
Almost like... Like, I don't live here anymore.

Calmer breathing up north

We are in North Idaho now and I love it here. It, meaning everything. Is better here. It is.
Yesterday's dinner, drinks and catching up with friends... Today's hike along Lake Pend Orielle.
A birthday dinner.
A walk with the dog.
I find it easier to breath.
And in just a few short days we're leaving here to go home. It's only slowly starting to sink in.
That I am going home.
Some things are hard, few things are perfect.
But for now, this is all. We're here at his home
and we're going home to my home.

He took one for the team

You know how if you look at something for too long, rewrite and reword the same document over and over.... it eventually becomes impossible to tell whether or not it would actually make sense to an outsider.
Solution?
Have one committee member show up to the a.m. meeting hungover as all hell. Cross eyed and delirious, chugging coffee and fighting the shakes.
Then have him read through the draft.
He will tell you whether or not it's clear and to the point.
If he gets it, they will all get it.
Brilliant.

You take what you get

I said it before and I'll say it again, I wish we had a patio, a backyard you could hang out in, a front porch... something like that, for summer hang outs.
But we don't.
Still, last night we sat out on the front steps, with a friend and a neighbor, on a collection of lawn chairs, real chairs and fold up chairs, and sipped wine flips as the sun sunk behind the trains.
And it felt like a slightly greyer and grittier version of the patio summer evenings of my dreams.
Good times still, though.
Since D got per diem for all of yesterday, we ate out for both lunch and dinner.
Wouldn't want to waste a free meal now would we?

And finally..

I have a really weird crampy sensation...right under my heart, above the ribs. Like my heart fell down a little bit and had a tiny attack.
I will probably survive.
Ok, that's all.
Really.
Promise.

Really important information here

First of all, the clothes did fit. Pretty much. They pretty much did fit ok... sort of.
I bought them.
It's all good.

Second of all, here's something that truly bugs me... and that I've been forced to hear a lot of lately. Women (although I'm sure men do it too, but it seems to be mostly women) who obsess over calories, workouts and diets and force other people to be part of it.

Example 1:
Going Away dinner party. Great food, drinks, games and conversations. Amazing chocolate cake for dessert. Rich, delicious.
Girl: Oh my gosh, I really shouldn't be eating this (keeps eating). I mean look at this (grabs another piece) this will like go straight to my thighs... oh my gosh, this is like soooooo bad.

Well then. Don't eat it. You either eat it, or you don't. And feel about it as you please, but keep it to yourself and stop trying to make everyone else feel bad about enjoying the cake. We all know it's cake, pretty sure nobody thinks they're chewing on a granola bar here... and if only you got your head out of your ass you'd see there are girls heavier than you trying to kill you with their stares right now.

Example 2:
Lady walks in with a tray of muffins to a morning meeting.
- These are my treat, y'all help yourselves now!
Then turns to the corner where most of the women are sitting and lowers her voice: I would personally not eat a whole one, us ladies should probably try to split them.... they are really fattening and bad for you, total diet busters, so watch out girls!
One guy at three muffins, lady didn't even blink. I ate one, a whole one.... and it did not go unnoticed.

Same lady, at a working lunch a few days later kept asking me about every single item on the menu, whether I thought it was heavy on the calories or would be a good choice, and then told me, when I ordered ranch dressing with my meal "you know they have lighter options....ranch really isn't your best choice, there"

Well fuck, it's my choice right. I finally had to to straight up ask her if she thought I needed to lose weight. It was great, she was all shocked "You? Why no, of course not! Oh my gosh, you're like soooo healthy!"
Ok. Cool, then stay out of my ranch please.

What's standard procedure for stuff like this anyways?

Saw a post on Craigslist where this girl was selling two pairs of cute shorts and two pairs of (also cute) capris, all for just $25.... so I texted her and now she's driving over to campus so I can try the stuff on.
God I hope it fits cause I really don't want to have her drive home empty handed..... and I also don't want to pay $25 for clothes that don't fit.
But watch me, I just might.

Why is that..

If you dress up and then spill on yourself, you end up looking more trashy than had you not bothered putting on that skirt in the first place.
Stains on whatever-type-pants are not a big deal.
Stains on an I-see-you're-trying-today type of outfit.... goshdarnit.
There is nobody in my office today and I'm still tempted to go home and change.
I mean, I won't. Or anything. Just saying.

Ooops

Oh yeah, FYI dear office space people... Swedish radio does not bleep out certain words you might expect radio to bleep out, words you would not hear on US radio.
We don't censor anything.
And I don't mean offend anyone or anything...
I just happened to leave the office to go use the bathroom right when the F-bombs starting flying.
Sorry.
But also, I'm sure you've heard all that before.

Moder Svea

Yep, it's the Swedish National Day today.
Idahoans all over are super aware and the celebrations know no limits.... not.
I did inform the people in my office, though, to make sure they didn't just go about this day like any other old day. Stephanie goes:
"So it's like 4th of July in Sweden right now?"
Yeah.... kind of, except it's June 6th.

Big Brother

It freaks me out how every website I go to advertises for the same running shoes, night creams and mineral powder I always buy from Amazon.
Stop stalking me internets!

Buckets of balls

My second time, ever, at the Clear Lake Golf Course yesterday. Last time I did only the driving range. Yesterday uncle Larry made me hit a few out on the freeway (is that what that is called...? I don't know, like out on the real course) and I totally sucked.
I got to get a lot more buckets of balls under my belt before I'm ready for the real thing.
I'm a decent putter. Actually. Lots of games of miniature golf has helped with that.
The thing with playing the real game is... I have a real hard time combining precision and force, I like to go one way or the other.

Unfriend

Why I deleted you from facebook today?
Because I forgot to do it sooner.
You need more reasons, ask you ex-wife. Or that God of yours you keep talking about. Maybe if you weren't so busy talking shit all the time, you would actually have a minute to look into stuff like.... oh I don't know, love, forgiveness, tolerance, acceptance... Although the inside of your asshole is probably blocking the view.
Whatever, bye.

It's 10:30am on this beautiful morning

So far today I've found out I have asthma and that we have to resubmit all the documentation supporting our marriage to the Department of Homeland Security.
Can't wait to see what else this day has in store for me.

Watching cooking shows for inspiration

I've been plowing through Hell's Kitchen, Master Chef (not my favourite) and now Kitchen Nighmares. Do I just love cooking shows?
No. Not really.
Don't care much for Chopped or Top Chef.
Never felt like actually cooking anthying I see them make on the show.
I just love Gordon Ramsey.
Good God that man knows how to chew people out. I wish they didn't have to bleep out the bad words, I feel like he's pretty creative with his cussing, and I'd just love to hear it.
Piss off.

12 is the new 10

Why oh why... University administration, do you feel it necessary to have people work around the calendar year when clearly so little is going on during the summer?
No no, I get it, there are summer classes and maintenance and programming and preparing for fall and all of that.
We can't close business, I'm not saying we should, just that it makes no sense to push for all 12-month contracts when it would save the university money and increase people's life quality if some people could be on 10 and 11 month contracts.
Is it really that hard for pay roll to figure out?
Is that why?

This reminds me of China when teachers were encouraged to bring sleeping mats to work so they could take a nap during meaninglessly long workdays.
You can't go home, we might need you, but you don't have to work the whole time you're here either. 

A secretary I know brings books and magazines to the office to keep entertained during the long summer days. That's what her boss told her to do when she asked what all she should be doing during the summer, since there are no students in their departments.
Read magazines.
On the university dollar.

My precious

If anybody saw me standing outside my house yesterday, staring at the fence in total disbelief for probably well over 5 minutes, here's why:
My goddam bike was stolen!
Pisses me right off.
They didn't take any of the other bikes (I mean mine was clearly the best one, but still). Just mine. And I love that bike too.
I filed a police rapport. Do I think that'll help me get it back? No. But I felt like I had to do something. And starring at the fence wasn't cutting it. Speaking of which, they didn't cut the fence, which means they must've cut the lock, or picked it. I loved that lock too, godamit!

Good News is Better than Bad News

Considering facebook is where I learned my grandmother had passed away, it only makes sense that's where I would find out my brother got engaged.

Is there something in the water?

A rainy Friday on campus and people seem to be in a really good mood. Just all over.
It might just be the Friday factor.
Or the misty fog of breathable air hanging low over the hills and soothing airways sore from heat and dust.
A campus free from students?
Whatever it is, it's welcome.

Oh life, you're such a sneaky bitch

Just cause I just wrote that.... Now I'm going to post about my lunch.
No pictures, though.
I try to bring lunch to work most days. But I didn't toady so I went over to the SUB to get a wrap sandwich.
Just a sandwich.
Not a dairy free pasta alfredo with extra sauce on the side minus the broccoli plus chives.
Not too complicated. You wouldn't think.
But the guy manning the bagel joint today.... not his day today, or possibly ever, I don't know him.
But you know that feeling, when you place an order and see the look on the guys face and just want be like
"Actually, forget it. I know you're gonna fuck this one up, and I don't want to pay for a fucked up sandwich.... so just cancel it. Cool?"
I feel that way a lot. I never actually say it though. And I didn't today either.

Go Blogs!

I tried Twitter and quit.
I’m a Twitter-quitter. 
I also quit Pintrest.
It bugs the shizzle out of me when people update their facebook status 8 times a day about meaningless shit. I can’t see the point of most posts on most social media sites.
Hashtags make me break into a mental rash.
And yet I run two blogs.
Hypocrite much?

Sure. Maybe I am. A little.
But…. You don’t have to navigate to this page and read this unless you want to. I’m not posting my flyers all over your bulletin board, drowning whatever other posters you might be interested in.
There is not much substance to this blog, and I know that.
But they are still my thoughts. Not pictures of my lunch. I don’t know. This is as much a criticism of others as it is a justification of my own (similar) behavior. 
Maybe it is all the same.
But I still think blogs are different.

Fish for your farewell

I took Tiffany to lunch as opposed to giving her a graduation gift she'd just have to pack and haul cross country. Or drink. But I saw a lot of other people offering gifts of that kind, so....
Anyways, we lunched.
Salmon and greens. I don't particularly like salmon. I know it's a super food and super good for you and all that stuff.... so now that it's over I feel pretty good about having eaten it. But it's not a fave.
Not a fave.
Also not  a fave is seeing people packing up and moving away, leaving me here.... Not cool.
Or saying goodbye in general. Don't like it.

Selfish

I wandered around the store for a long time yesterday, picking out all sorts of delish stuff to nosh on while watching The Voice and being all Sunday mellow.
What I didn't buy was cat food, so while I was still feeling full this morning... Daisy acted like she needs to eat every single day or something.
She's so spoiled.

Retail therapy

I just ordered new running shoes. Oh happiness.

Done

I love that feeling of having handed in the final report/paper/teaching portfolio/whatever of the semester.
It's out of your hands.
The typos will stand, the attachments may be out of order, the date may be wrong... whatever.
No more last checks. Couldn't change it if I wanted to.
Out of my hands.
Liberating.

The art of dressing

Again, the surprises that await you when you pack your gym bag the night before and then get dressed in the locker room with no alternatives to what you happened to throw in the bag.
Do two white shirts sufficiently cover a zebra print bra?
The answer is either yes nobody can tell or no but my coworkers are too nice to say anything.
Oh well.

My summer is 10 months long

For the last couple of months I've been using the word summer very freely and frequently, as this magical point in time where tons and tons of work will happen.
Sorta like this:

- Oh yeah, it's definitely something we plan on looking at this summer!
- I actually think the summer would be a great time to really dig deeper into this and look at new ways of structuring our mission..
- Oh for sure! How about we get together this summer and talk about it...?
- So I was thinking this summer, maybe we could work on formulating a plan for this...

And so on and so forth. So considering summer hours officially start next week, and considering that I'll be gone all of July... I should perhaps start looking closer at just how I plan on delivering all this work?
Maybe.

Mushy

I just read the class evaluations from my ESL-students.
My heart melted a little bit.

The calm before the storm

Except I'm not calm.
And I really hope there will be no storm.
At least not tonight.
I keep saying I'm so glad the sun will be shining on our parade, so if it actually starts raining... you know who jinxed it.
About to teach my last ESL seminar of the semester in about an hour. Then the last work-event of the semester is tonight. Then writing that final paper and then.....
This is the countdown, it's winding down.
But right now it's really hectic.
The storm before the calm.

Life of an immigrant

"Please enter your receipt number"
I do that. They end the call on me. The goddam computer hangs up on me, twice. I chose the option "if you don't know what a receipt number is, press 2" to finally be able to get a real person. A real person that's a real parrot if an idiot.
She tells me to wait. I tell her I have been for the last year and a half.
She tells me I can put in a service order (as if it's my bike that's broken) I tell her I did that in February, was promised to be contacted within 60 days. That didn't happen. She says she understands. I understand too. That when you are an immigrant, you have no rights, no business asking for help and if you give up and go home, you're doing everyone a huge favor.
Thank you for calling.
Now go f*** yourself, preferably on a plane back home.

Truths of the day

B-ball is b-boring
Obama is funny
Our apartment is stupid warm

Because of number 1 being on too loud on the TV and number 3 being the case even though we keep telling our landlord we're baking in here... I have a hard time getting my paper written. Number 2 is on there because we just watched his speach from the Correspondents Dinner, which I can recommend. He was funnier than Conan, and being funny is not even his job...

The gym bitch

Gave ISU yoga another chance this morning. Figured maybe I've been unfair and maybe it is like a workout(I mean ish... not like a workout per se, but not quite a nap either...) type of deal after all.
But no.
I have not been unfair, that shit is like stretching very very gently in your sleep. They even give you a pillow. I mean, really... I need more than that. It doesn't take much to make me sweat, so if you can't even do that... I'm not going to to be in your class.
My gym persona is not nice, but it is what it is.

Mood swings anyone?

Today is a much better day. The sun in shining (like for for reals, it's sunny out) and the metaphorical weather has gone from full on thunderstorm to somewhat cloudy with chances of a warm breeze.

Today

Today I'm holding my tongue in such a tight grip I might choke on my fist.
It's a good thing genetics blessed me with naturally low blood pressure.
I want to say I'm a ticking bomb but that
a) Just doesn't seem PC at the moment
b) Would make me seem like much more of a bad ass than I can claim

But how about a match, or a tea light, left with a persistent, burning glow... refusing to give up?
As a mental image of my mood. No?
Then I don't know.

Thinking about what could have been...

I'm about to do math right here in my office. Not for fun, although I am so excited I have to blog about it, but for work. I have to (get to) do math for work!
This is a good Monday.

Just a heads up

Whenever my students chose British articles or texts for class discussion, I have to do a lot of googeling to figure out what the heck is going on.
And then I tell my class; you know, you can say it like that...and it's not wrong. But if you're in Idaho, nobody else is going to be saying it like that. 
Side note: last week in class one my students made a joke. In English. I was so proud.

Why are my needs not everybody's #1 priority?

I hate waiting for people. Especially when, I don't know... always, actually. Like right now. And like yesterday when I had to do it. And you know I'll hate that shit in the future too.
It's just sooo disrespectful to give a time, then completely disregard it, and not give notice.
Who does that?
A lot of people, I will tell you.
A lot.

No chips with my sandwich, please

When we were in Chile I chipped my tooth on a hard piece of shellfish. It was really annoying and also made me look a little bit like Jim Carry in Dumb & Dumber.
A moment ago I bit into my (not  at all hard) wrap sandwich and immediately got that "Oh shit...!" feeling like something just went wrong with my teeth. So I ran to the bathroom to check.
But no, we're good.
No Lloyd look-alike this time.

Oh that coffee smell? it's the latest one from Scentsy...

You know those Starbucks Iced Mocha drinks that come in glass bottles? And how you're advised to shake them before drinking to make sure they're blended right?
Yeah, what they don't advise is to keep the cap on while shaking.
Why would they? you may ask... Who would shake a bottle full of coffee without the cap on?
My husband, I will tell you.
Would and did.
In the car, while driving.
Then, while I tried to clean up the mess with leftover Subway napkins, he had the (coffee soaked) balls to accuse me of taking the cap off before he started shaking the bottle...

Just me

While everyone is loving spring, I feel ski season slipping away.
Last run this weekend? Could be.
Aiming at Targhee for their closing shenanigans next weekend, but we'll see.
Sun Valley might end up opening as well as closing for us this year. 
But spring, for me, that's melting snow, sunshine on ice, wet shoes and bicycles finally coming out of hibernation. People around here seem to associate spring with shit being all green and growing and blossoming and whatnot. I'd call that summer. But that's just me. 

Pool Tuesday

Swam this morning. I try to do it every Tuesday, and goddammit last semester I was so on top of it. Like clock work. Every dang Tuesday in that pool.
But this semester, I've been, I don't know.... less clock like.
Anyways, I mostly just wanted to use the word swam.

Eat a cookie and let it go allready

Saw a status on facebook this morning that happily announced that you can now purchase vegan, gluten-free cookie dough at Costco. Then it went on to announce that this is what's cooking for breakfast.
Ok.
Well, my beef with the gluten-free fad aside... I mean, the youghurt Dylan just brought home says it's Gluten Free!!! in big bold letters on the bottle.
What's next?
Gluten-Free water?
Why do people not realize that some (quite a few actually) foods just don't contain gluten. Potatoes, rice, dairy, corn....and that gluten, in and of itself is not bad for a majority of people.
Anyways, all that's besides the point since cookes normally contain flour, and hence, gluten.
I guess the real reaction I can't shake is this:
If you had cookies for a treat instead of for breakfast, maybe you could actually let yourself have the real kind, with eggs and butter and the devil, I mean gluten.
Now, maybe this person is actually a gluten-intolerant vegan.
In which case I would just be the personal choice-intolerant asshole.
Could very well be.
Either way, I cannot get behind this facebook trend of posting pictures and descriptions of everything you eat. And I obviously can't ignore it either.
Ok, I'm over it now. Promise.

Deja vu

I have a talented friend, no doubt, and the Linton brothers put on an impressive show last night. That was cool.
But after that.
Everything is repetition. The conversation, the (lack of) choices, the actions, the questions. Seen it, done it, heard it. I can save you the time it takes to act it all out again and tell you what's going to happen. This town is a kitchen sink of broken ambitions and dreams long gone.

Caliente! No?

I thought it was super confusing at first, when we were traveling South America, that C on the tap meant hot. You get used to it fast though.
Now the hot water heater in our building is broken. It no longer matters what the tap says, or which one you turn on, the water is freaking frio.
And that is a little harder to get used to.

Completely drained of energy

I am. Just done. Last night when we drove home from Boise I was so tired I almost cried. I haven't been that tired in a long time.
And I'm not just tired like sleepy tired. Although I am that too.
I am tired like I'm tired of it all.

Actually, it's forwards

Just a minute ago, I was walking up towards these glass doors, and two janitor guys were walking towards me, on the other side of the doors. I made it there first, so I opened the door and held it up for them.
They hesitated.
I gave little wave with my arm, like a gentleman does…inviting them to walk through.
So they finally did.
The one guy said: Well, this is a little backwards.
Oh no. You are walking towards the future, my man.