Damn the DMV

In my recent old age, I try to remind myself to "be calm and carry on" and to "not sweat the small stuff & it's all small stuff." I might rant and rave here and to friends and family but when handling a situation in reality I try to be calm and adult. Most of the time I succeed in this quest for anger management.

Sometimes I fail.

When Mac got his driver's license he was still living at the Sperm Donor's house so that's the address we put on the license.

Mac didn't get a summer job so he never opened a bank account. And--- he wouldn't have any pay stubs either. I'm just pointing this out now- think of it as foreshadowing.

Mac went to open a bank account at a nation bank chain. He was 18 so he went alone. He filled out all the paperwork and the teller asked of ID. His license didn't match his forms so she told him he had to have ID with the proper address. I don't know why, nor do I care.

We decided to just go to the DMV and get his licensed changed. I went on the web site which has to be the least user friendly web site in all history of web sites, to see what documentation he needed. I couldn't find it there so I called and after being on hold for 12 MINUTES, the woman said he would need a piece of mail with his address on it.

So, last Friday, I went up to Mac's college to see him and out plan was to go out to lunch, then to the DMV to change the license and then to open the bank account.

We arrive at the location to find they moved. Across town. About 8 miles. In a town where I'm not familiar with locations of stuff. The GPS rerouted us and we arrived.

We take our number and get called.

Mac tells the woman he wants to change his license. This is where things went severely wrong.

He provides his old license and his acceptance letter from the College, and his Social Security Card. SHE tells him that won't work. They talk. He says, loudly, "Are you kidding me?" He beckons me over.

She tells me the mail isn't a US Attorney approved piece of mail and it will not suffice. And he needs 2 pieces of mail with the address, not just one. I calmly say that I called and was not told we needed 2 nor that there was criteria for the type of mail. She said I should've looked at the web site.

I told her I spent time on the web site and since it was not user friendly I called instead. She told me it was there and I should look.

I said that since I was already there, maybe she could just tell me what we needed. She said it was on the web site.

I told her to pretend I didn't have a computer and to give me the list. Mac has steam rolling out his ears and I hear him muttering under his breath- lots of bad words.

I look at the list and Mac could use things like bank statements, a pay check stub, a Passport, a mortgage or auto loan documentation, a deed to a house, something to do with being a veteran, or utility bills.

I took a deep breath and told her he just turned 18 in April and didn't have any of these things, and did she have another option. She asked why someone his age didn't have a bank account. Mac said "because I need a correct driver's license address, lady!"

I explained the bank's policy and said that was the reason we were here. She said she didn't have to do that when she got a bank account. OMG!

I swear Mac is snorting like a bull, ready to just explode. I'm taking deep soothing breaths, because I know if I loose it that will be the signal to Mac that he can as well--- which would be very, very bad.

I nicely tell her he has nothing on the list and I nicely ask if there is an alternative.

She said we could provide a copy of his transcripts. Okay, I think, cool. We can call his old high school or hit the admissions office and come back. But- no! Miss Helpful Pants then says it has to be an official transcript and with a letter. You. have. got. to. be. kidding. me.

I'd like to say we just walked out and that the stupid ended there, but no. I wasn't that smart to just give up, go to a different bank and lie about Mac's address.

I said that since I was his mother, could I sign something? Well, sure, as long as I could provide 5 forms of ID. I am NOT exaggerating.

Because I would be verifying his identity, I would need to prove mine. For me to do this, I would need to provide 2 forms of photo ID, one of them being my driver's license with my correct address, she snidely pointed out, that bitch. Then I would need a Passport, an original copy of MY birth certificate and then 2 items from the list she gave Mac. And I would need an original copy of Mac's birth certificate, his old license, and his Social Security Card.

Mac lost it. He started raving, and yes, raving is the only word that will work here, he was RAVING about the idiocy of bureaucracy, the stupidity of the government, why the US is in such pathetic shape, and something about health care reform. He also told her she was an "imbecilic , heartless, government drone" who could kiss his ass.

I didn't need to say what I was thinking- I just hustled him out before we were arrested.

Let's just say we still have no correct license and Mac still doesn't have a bank account. That's okay, he still doesn't have a job anyway. (Oh and about the bank... the branch of the bank he wanted to open his account in closed and is no longer in his college town! Go figure that one!)

We did have a good lunch...

Need I say more?
Maggie

Scraping the final poop off my shoe, so to speak

• I need to arrange to get my furniture out of ITSam's house. Now. I have to see if I can find a truck and two guys to go with me. And find a place to store it again- Booknut, any space in your garage again or in your storage building, by chance? Please?
  
• I'm stuck in a phone contract with him until January 2012. I have to pay my share of the bill until then or he's going to sue me, apparently. I will pay him on the 15 of each month. I will send him a money order.
  
• I need a new job because I don't want to see him every single damn day at work (and I really want a job with more money and health insurance). He didn't even come in my building yesterday- thankfully. He did, however, change my Internet access status at work. When I was his girlfriend, he gave me unlimited usage and he changed it to like all the other teachers; guess I'm not so special anymore.
• He provided my father with a loaner laptop and I'm waiting to see if he asks for it back; the same with the laptop cord he loaned Mac.
  
• He took my car to get some work done in the winter time and he still hasn't paid that bill. It's not in my name and he hasn't asked for the money. Yet.
• I need to go to the jewelry store and get the deposit back on my engagement ring since I sold my grandmother's diamond toward.
• He recently bought me something from Tiffany's which I returned to him in the intra-mail: box, bag, ribbon and all. Maybe he can get his money back. Or give it to his next girlfriend. He should receive it tomorrow.
  
• He donated some yarn to the Art Club of which I'm a sponsor. I also put it all in a box and mailed it back to him via intra-office email. He should receive it tomorrow.
• He loaned me a computer at work and I have to figure out how to get it to him; I don't want to take it to his office lest he think I'm looking for excuses to see him, which I'm obviously not. Wonder if I could send it via intra-office mail, too?

It's all madness,
Maggie

I bit off way more than I can chew.... I think

There's a woman (an English teacher) at work who is adopting her first child after waiting on a list for over 3 years. Her baby is going to be born this coming week and the birth mother has to have a C-Section.

About 6 weeks ago the teacher asked me if I could cover her classes it she had to take time off at the end of the school year for the baby. I said I would if the administration would agree. It was six weeks ago when I didn't really think and consider the reality of that situation. Ugh!

The reality starts tomorrow. I will be doing double duty- library and teaching. I don't have to have the library open during the times I teach but I still will have to take care of returned books, put them away and nag/ hound/ the students to return their books before the end of the school year. I have to do the bare minimum but it still has to be done. So the library will be open one period a day- during her prep. Then I'll teach the other 5. Then I can finish loose library ends at the end of the day before I go home.

So for the next two weeks:

I drove the transport from Hell on Friday. I have to do the Part two this afternoon (they won't fire me on a weekend because there's no one around to recruit another driver). Then the next 5 days I'm the librarian and teacher. Next weekend is my weekend to be the receptionist on Friday and Saturday nights. I have Sunday off. You know "off" so I can do laundry, grocery shop, clean... Then Monday- Wednesday is more teaching and library AND my school's graduation. Thursday is a teacher day so I can get caught up on library and finish up the teaching stuff like grades. That Friday is Mac's graduation and the Sunday after that is his party.

I'm just trying to figure out how I'm going to do my job, grade papers, clean the house before Daddy-O gets home, get Mac's open house ready to go and ALSO do regular stuff like laundry and grocery shopping.

Sometimes I think I'm just stupid.

I know I'll get through it but it just feels overwhelming to think about it.

Maggie

In Like A Lion

Today was not a good day.

1. Mac got 4 days of after school detention for shooting off his mouth and using the word shit
2. I did NOT get the job
3. My car broke down last week and I got the $390 bill today
4. I will not be appoint Princess's guardian in June. Long story. It's nothing she nor I did; It's politics and "the system."

Maggie

Day 4- Forgiving someone else

Today's topic in the 30 days of truth is "something you have to forgive someone for." Well, I can't really think of anything. Other than issues with my ex about my son, and that doesn't call for forgiveness but either bullets or lawyers, I don't really go around harboring a lot of ill will toward others. I just don't feel like I need to forgive anyone for anything. I don't feel angry at anyone or like I have grudges or regrets, other than Day three's mention.

Guess this one wasn't very hard. Sort of lame. Sorry to disappoint. Maybe I should change it up a little bit. For example:

• I could forgive ITSam for sending text messages with misspelled words and grammar errors to an English teacher. Here's an example: "I know you busy this next few weeks. I hope everything go well and your safe." While Daddy-O always says "you can't fix stupid" but I guess that means I could forgive it.
  

• I could forgive Robin from Wal-Mart for... well, she would obviously fail a lesson about fruit.
  

• I could forgive the gods and goddess for not making life like a movie and not offering up a soundtrack. (this is one of my favorite posts....)

Well, four down and only 26 more to go.

Maggie

And by the way...

This has nothing to do with forgiveness but it's just a lovely view on our school campus.

Lost and still lost

I hate it when I do stupid things that aren't funny. I'm not usually happy when I do stupid things at all but when I do something in which there is no humor whatsoever, then I get MAD at myself. Yesterday was one of those things.

I lost $20. I wasn't even gambling or spent it stupidly. No, I physically lost the money. As in it fell out of my pocket and is forever lost in the stratosphere. Damn myself.

I got money out of my stash (I never carry much with me because I don't have much and because I'll spend it if I do.) and put it in my pocket. As I did it I thought about how shallow my pockets were and I should actually put it in my purse. But then Mac and Daddy-O and I all got involved in stuff and I just forgot.

Mac and I ran two errands and then pulled into the hotdog stand for lunch. We ordered and off the carhop went to place our order and I reached for the 20 bucks in my pocket and it was gone. So of course I go through all my pockets, search the car, go through my purse. Mac goes through my purse a second time while I search my pockets AGAIN. Like checking them for the 3rd time is going to make a 20 dollar bill appear. So I tell the waitress to cancel our order and that I'm sorry.

Mac and I then go back to the 2 places where I had gotten out of the car on the off chance that MAYBE we could just be lucky and find the $20 laying somewhere. It wasn't. We called Daddy-O to check the house all over and he didn't find it. We did the car/ pockets/ purse thing again. We asked people at the places where I was (2 places- 2 parking lots, 1 school lobby, and one office lobby) if anyone turned in $20 and of course NOT. We checked everywhere.

When I got home, Daddy-O helped me look in the car again, I went through my pockets and purse and wallet yet again, I searched the house again and still no money.

Even hours later, like last night, I was still checking my pockets and purse and car hoping it would magically appear. No such magic.

I managed to lose $20. I don't HAVE $20 to lose. It sucks. This is not my week, I tell ya. I hope whoever found it really, really needed the money. Bastards.

Broke as a joke,
Maggie

"You scullion! You rampallian! You fustilarian! I'll tickle your catastrophe!"

The title of this blog post comes from Shakespeare's Henry IV... and I felt this weekend needed to be insulted in a way that the old Bard can only do!

After the craziness that was last night of taking the kids to be volunteers, taking them home, picking up Curley, chatting with Mac about his concert, funeral viewing, dinner, Mac's concert, Curley home and then me home (whew!) I had just planned on vegging the entire weekend. But this two day holiday had other things in mind for my lazy butt!

Mac is taking the SATs today. He has to be at the testing center at 8am. Of course at 11pm last night he announces his calculator needs 4 AAA batteries and he needs two pencils of the non mechanical but number two variety. He also laid a guilt trip on me the size of Texas that I'm a teacher so I know the importance of a good breakfast before a test... blah freaking blah. And the car was on E and the gas light had been on for 3 days. Thank goodness Daddy-O had the needed batteries and since I'm a teacher I had the necessary non- mechanical but #2 variety- pink ones I might add- so haha! And rather than have myself a nice lie in, a lovely morning of laying in bed sleeping in, enjoying a dark gloomy rainy Saturday I was up fixing him breakfast. Yes I love my son but drat!!!! And I accidentally burned the bacon. I did make coffee though! I also gave him money and sent him for fuel for the car while I cooked so all is well. (And I chant: "please please please let him do well so he can get into the University he wants and go to law school and make lots of money and give me some please please please")

I also agreed to go with Curley to her brother-in-law's book signing! I was going to do that anyway but not until later in the day so I'm certainly not complaining about it! Books! Hel-lo?

And I can occasionally have those "dumbass attack" moments as I like to call them. Other have "a-ha" light bulbs flash on brightly but I get "duh" moments as my bulb burns out.... I wrote down my Sisinlaw's baby shower on my calendar for NEXT Sunday rather than when it really is... tomorrow. So I'm going. And again, I am NOT complaining but this is where I get more mad at myself that anything else. I did something dumb with the dates, and now I don't have his (we know the baby is a he) quilt made for tomorrow. I hate it when I'm stupid. Of course I want to go to honor my almost born nephew! I was so glad Sisinlaw and Curley reminded me!

So my restful weekend of being a worthless layabout is no longer. I have plans.

OH.... AND the one day I didn't do a Pink Saturday post, Tiffanee makes a lovely, kind mention of me on her blog! Thank you Tiffanee! So, here is an unofficial Pink Saturday picture!

This is my niece, the Divine Ms K, and this was taken about a year ago. Hey, sometimes you just gotta wear shades!

So, thou art weekend of busy events, you gaphornious villain, go forth for I shall conquer ye!

Mags

How can I have the weekend blahs?

You ever have so much going on in your head you can't find your sense of humor, or at least for very long?

I shouldn't let all this shit rent space in my head but I do.

And for the last 7-10 days I've been experiencing something new- anxiety attacks. First time it happened I thought I was having a freaking heart attack and I would've been pissed if I had one at age 38 and my ex husband who is older, meaner, fatter and far uglier didn't have one first.

That all being said, yesterday was tons of fun because Daddy-O and Curley and I did a shopping at craft store day. I'm going to make a dress! Let me amend that; Curely is going to show me how to make a dress and then I'm going to do the second one by myself. Pictures will follow.

Other than a blow by blow of my weekend, which I'm sure isn't all that exciting to read (though props to Curley's Son, the King of Computers, for doing some super fun, cute things to my machine!!!! he so rocks! Kisses to King of computers!) I really don't have anything to add.

I think I need to go do something crazy and see if it generates some material. As soon as I come up with something I can afford, I'll get right on that.

Oh, wait! While Mac hasn't decided what to sing for Spring Spec, I guess at the pep session at his school on Friday, he rapped "Jump On It" in front of the entire student body to rev up the crowd and got a standing ovation. Wish I could've seen that!

So, have a good night, and tomorrow will bring another attempt to post. I'm sure I'll come up with something, right?

Mags

Bitch mode

This has been a week from hell with our school kids- all of 'em, not just the special education kids.

The week started with three half days of standardized testing. These tests determine if the kids will pass to their next grade levels or not, so let's say people were tense. That screwed up the morning schedules for all of us in the building. Then the 8th graders went on a field trip two afternoons- which screwed up those days even further. Let's add a pep rally this afternoon which meant we ran on our "alternative schedule" day, ie: shorter class periods all day. Oh, and did I mention the kids had a celebration afternoon for completing the standardized test? Oh yes, they spent the entire afternoon playing dodge ball and other games with balls flying around and I'm a fat girl with glasses who hates being in a gym with kids turned loose like that.

In short, this feels like the longest week in history.

The kids were off the wall. The pressure of the tests builds up, I realize. And this week the teachers cannot give homework nor are they supposed to introduce a new concept so when they were actually IN CLASSES they played games or watched movies. It think they were either in a totally STRUCTURED atmosphere or so completely unstructured that it wasn't funny.

We had kids in trouble this week who have never been in trouble before. I had kids being mouthy to me that are never and the level of disrespect and "envelope pushing" were at an all time high this week. Swear to goddess, I handed a kid his assignment this morning at 7:48AM (three minutes into the school day) and he looked at me and said, "Oh fuck". Are you kidding me? Off he went to the office with a referral! I can honestly say I've had enough "kid" this week.

Sheesh!

TGIF!
Mags

Groundhogs,Grammys, and Oscars

Yesterday was Groundhog's Day and the whole shadow/ no shadow thing was a question everyone wanted answered.

According to folklore, if a groundhog emerges from its hole and fails to see its shadow, it leaves the burrow, which means winter is almost over. If the groundhog sees its shadow, it will go back into its home and go back to sleep, signifying winter will last another six weeks.

This year there were mixed results from famous groundhogs around the world. (I can't believe I just typed "famous groundhogs around the world"...OMG) I personally am a firm believer in good old Punxsatawney Phil of Pennsylvania. He seems to be the most renowned rodent of them all, and he was made even more famous after the Bill Murray movie called... Groundhog's Day. And that little rat saw his shadow. ICK! And to top it off, it then snowed for about 3 hours this morning. never mind that it didn't stick or anything, and actually got up to around 39 degrees today, the point is 6 more weeks of winter. I'm tired of it already.

The Grammys were on tv the other night, and I didn't watch it. I just didn't care. I'm not a fan of the huge musical awards shows because most of the time I find I don't know who half of the performers even are, but I also think there is something weird about the Grammys. Seeing jazz musicians with pop with country artists and the like all blended together is just... frightening. A place where Taylor Swift and Lady GaGa can both win an award on the same stage just boggles the mind. I do know one thing about the Grammy awards: I'm so glad it's over so I don't have to listen to that stupid Black Eyed Peas song that was in the background of every advertisement for the show. My ears say "thank you."

Finally the Oscar nominations were released yesterday and I was not surprised a bit. It was pretty expected and no surprises, which is a bummer. I always like a surprise coming out of the Academy. I don't like that Best Picture is now open to 10 films, rather than the traditional five, but no one asked me. I'm also proud of my bad self because I've seen half of the nominated films with plans to see at least three more prior to the ceremony. I don't even really have a favorite. I would be excited for Meryl Streep to take the Oscar for Julie & Julia because it's my favorite movie of last year and I have a soft spot for her. I have NO desire to see Precious, no matter how many nominations it gets; I don't think I have the emotional stamina for such a movie.

Randomness in action,

Maggie Mae

Grammar alert at 1:52 am

The other night I woke up at 1:52 am thinking, "OMG! I sent Ms. English Teacher an email thanking her for her 'patients and understanding' regarding a situation." Yes, I swear to goddess, I was wide awake at 1:52 am and that was the first thought in my head.

I was so upset that I might've sent my fellow colleague, and an English teacher at the middle school, an email using the wrong version of 'patience' that I got OUT of BED and went to check my sent box to see if I really, really did that. I didn't. What I did say was: "Thanks for being patient with me; I'll do my best."

Yes, get the visual. It's 1:52 am and I left my cold bed to sit huddled in front of the computer to check this. I looked at my "sent" box to verify. Then I sat there trying to remember if that was still correct or not, so I went so far as to check on dictionary.com.

The things that keep me awake at night.............

I need a life,
Maggie

I hate Verizon Wireless. Can you hear me now? I HATE them!

Verizon Wireless makes my head want to explode. (Actually, I say that often about things. It's, like, my thing to say and I say it waaaaaaaay to much. But in this case, it's really true. they do!)

Since Moving back and not having a job, I've run my cell phone bill about a month in arrears since about March. In August, I wanted to have Mac taken off my plan since his SD added him to his cell phone package about a year ago and his phone line hasn't been in use all this time. But I couldn't take him off until August because that was when his plan expired.

Only I couldn't take him off my plan since I was a month behind. According to VZW a customer can't make any changes in their phone plans unless their bill is paid in current. So, this last Monday, I paid my whole phone bill off, up to date.

Then I called Verizon, or a company that is obviously run and operated by Satan and his minions, to change my plan. This is again where Verizon gets to screw me hardcore and not even buy me dinner.

Because Mac was on my plan, were under a 'friends and family' package. Once I deleted him, I had to restructure my 'package.' I send lots of text messages so I decided I wanted to keep my unlimited texting to other VZW users, and then I have 500 messages to those who are NOT VZW. We checked my average talk minutes and I average about 260 a month- those are 'anytime' minutes. I debated going down to the 450 minutes but some months I was just at 500 minutes and other times I was just at 100- that's why 260 was an average. So I took a 900 minute package. With 900 minutes, I can pick any 5 people I want to have on a list that I can call for free at any time- not using any minutes. Also, because I dropped my 'family' package and just became a single package again (cell phone for 1 anybody?) it changed some of the perks I had. My "free" nights and weekends now are from 9pm-6pm in whatever time zone I happen to be in, rather than starting at 7 pm like it was. I also dropped my Internet usage and email from my phone. Now all I can do is talk and send/receive text messages and pictures. I can take pictures, which is a feature of the phone and has nothing to do with the horrid VZW company. All that being said, believe it or not, and will all the stupid changes and loss of perks, I will end up saving...$12. Yup, all that mess to save me $12- tax included.

I. am. pissed. I went from 1800 minutes to 900, lost the Internet and email, lost 5 'friends and family free numbers', and lost a whole phone line and I. am. only. saving. $12!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I HATE VERIZON WIRELESS!!!!!!! HATE HATE HATE them. With a fiery passion like no other.

Now, I could make my savings be a little more. I could be a single plan, go to 450 talk minutes, drop the phone insurance, have zero 'free friends and family' lines, and drop the text/ picture messaging, and I would save about $20 more.

My stupid phone plan isn't over until January 2011. I am practically counting the seconds until I can get away from this horrid company.

One more way to be abused by Big Business,
Maggie

My issue with schools and reading

And the ranting continues: what is WITH schools and reading?

What I mean is.... when kids get to high school, why can't we let them read for fun?!?

Just about every school here in the Midwest (in Civilization as well as teachers I know in surrounding states have confirmed this with me) has a standardized reading program for high school kids. I'm not talking about English classes and the novels read in Language Arts. I mean schools set aside time for students to read.

But they can't just have an SSR (Sustained Silent Reading) period; no, the schools decide we must TEST the students. Goddamnit I am so sick and tired of students being tested to death over everything. SSS started out as a class period, separate from the rest of the class periods, as a 15-20 time of day where students were supposed to read something for fun. As long as they were reading and not sleeping, talking or doing homework, they could read anything that was school appropriate: novels, biographies, magazines, newspapers, comics- anything they were interested in was fair game.

Oh no. Apparently we don't want to make reading fun for the age set that typically hates books. Oh no, we can;t let kids have fun in school- the absurd notion! Oh no, we must test kids! Let's have a program called Accelerated Reading (AR) or Reading Counts- both programs involve every book in the school library being assigned a reading level and then a test is written for each book and the books are assigned a point value. The tests are computerized. These are national programs, not just here in my state, though some places have them under different names or have their own "Meet the State Standards" equivalent.

So now, the English teachers decide in addition to all the poetry and novels and books reports kids do, let's make kids get AR or Reading Counts points! Oh golly gee wow! So each semester kids need to earn X number of points as part of their grade, or as a percentage. And when do the kids read these books now? Why, during SSR of course. So no longer are kids reading for fun and pleasure and finding something that interests them. No longer are those kids who hate to read allowed to find something the grabs them. No longer are kids allowed to read what they want. Why? Because not every book ever written has a "test" so if you read something with no test, then you don't get any points. Now kids are hunting for books with high points to read.

I was looking as these lists the other day, just perusing and some of the choices were atrocious. I mean, some of the shit I've never heard of, some was on my college reading list and most of is would work better than an Ambien. Google AR or Reading counts with your state name and look at the high school list. Go on... I'll wait.

DAMN IT!!!!!!!!!!! Why can't they be allowed to read for fun? No wonder kids hate to read! It's because we test the hell out of them and don't make it fun. I was an English teacher for almost 10 years and I am a complete bibliophile whose read 10 books this month alone (and 95 this year) so I am most certainly NOT saying kids shouldn't read for a grade, but if we are going to allocate time during the school day and tell kids they have to read during this time, then let them read anything they want. Without a test. Just. read. for. fun.

I know kids who are LD (Learning Disabled) where reading is so hard for them but they love the magazine Sports Illustrated. Some of the students who hate to read, especially LD kids, have an interest in a specific topic like trains or war or dinosaurs or vampires. So now instead of taking 20 minutes to read an article in the magazine or a topic specific book, they have to go back to struggling through another novel of some kind- like a classic- to ear points to get another damn grade.

I am so so so sick of this stuff. I hate that kids hate to read. Kids need to be given an opportunity to explore all sorts of reading material from the novel to the memoir to newspapers to... anything that interests them.

Another disservice brought to you by the public education system.

the newly Jaded one,
Maggie

Friday's menagerie of thoughts

• I'm trying to catch a cold apparently and feel like crap. Where ya sneeze and blow your nose and sneeze and blow and you just don't feel right, but not well either? I bet I have mad swine h1n87 flu. Yeah, and all the rain isn't helping and I'm sleeping like crap as well.
• Remember to vote on which story you want me to blog about.
• Something isn't right with blogger because right now I can type faster than it can put words on the screen.
  
• I'm not sure I've mentioned this week how much I hate not having a full time job of any kind
• And while I'm bitching, I have I mentioned this week how much I hate being single, or at least at this moment I do?
• I'm subbing for middle school PE today. Please pray for me- or whatever you do that involves me and good thoughts.
  
• Welcome to all the new readers of my blogs I see you lurking out there. Please feel free to comment anytime. I'd like to meet you. Unless you're mean. Then just continue staying quiet.
  

Random thoughts from my brain on a rainy Friday

• I've had several people ask me, since I started back subbing, if my last name was still the same. How sad people thought I got married when I'm not even dating.
• I found a radio station whose tag line should be "songs to slit your wrists by"
• And speaking of music, have you ever woken up in the morning with a super obscure song running through your head and when you turn on the car radio later that same day, it's the first song you hear. That happened to me this morning with the song "Send in the Clowns." See, I told you it was obscure.
• It's always 10 or 11 pm at night when I want to cook a huge meal or I'm in the middle of doing something work related when I have a brilliant writing idea and then when I finally have the time to write it, I just can't seem to recapture the moment.
• Who came up with the term HTML code? And what is the HTML code for a strike through and how do I use it in blogging?
• I resigned from ice cream under good terms with the agreement that I would fill in when possible but when the time came for me to fill in, the older lady owner threw a fit so I guess I really AM done!
• Why have I never learned to drive a stick shift?
• When did it become dark at 7 pm at night? I've been here and awake at that time but last night it was black as pitch at 7 pm and I just noticed it.
• I've fixed up four people in my day and 3 of them married the person I fixed them up with. I think some reciprocation is in order.
• I don't care how much rain we get- I'm not sticking any animals in the ark I might have to build. And in the words of Bill Cosby channeling Noah, "What's a cubit?"
• I forgot how tired subbing can make me but I'm glad to be doing it!
  

Some people are just mean!

Yesterday was not my best day. At all. I hated work, my heart hurts, my depressed and sad and just a whole host of other things went wrong yesterday, in my little area of the world. This little incident was just part of the crap that hit me yesterday.

I have a Harvard t-shirt. I like to wear it. I think I've mentioned this before. To me it's no different than someone wearing a shirt that has a Fighting Illini logo or the Patriots logo- I don't assume that the person went to that school or plays for the NFL. It's just a damn t-shirt.

Yesterday a woman came in for ice cream, as wont to happen when you run an ice cream parlor. I was working. I was not in a good mood. I was not wanting to deal with humans; rather, I wanted to be in bed, watching sappy movies and feeling sorry for myself, but NO, I was working. With the public.

So this broad comes in and orders. I dip. I give her the cone. She asks the price. We have one register working and it was in use by another employee. Rather than wait to give her the price, I guessed. This state has wonky taxes and off the top of my head I thought the total was $2.42 and I told her. She gave me $2.50. When I rang it up, in reality it was $2.46. I apologized for my math error and said I "don't do math so late in the day" and laughed. She said she couldn't believe a Harvard student couldn't do math. I said in a light tone (and tried to NOT convey my irritation), "Oh well, I always say English majors don't do math." She told me she was an English major and then gave me a hard stare and asked me if I attended Harvard. I said nope and her response was, "Obviously not."

What nerve! I am not a stupid woman and I am sick and tired of people treating me as such.

I hate this job. I really really really hate this job.

Maggie

What the CLUCK?

Alternate post title: I should stay the hell away from cooking chicken...

I read Finger Lickin' Fifteen, a Janet Evanovich book and I was hungry for chicken. Go figure. it's just the way I work, okay? It was either fix chicken or get arrested for sexually assaulting a guy who could be Ranger. The chicken was a safer bet, so I thought.

I had a whole chicken in the freezer and I thought I would bake it with a rub on it, and then do some country fried taters with onions and peppers and a pan of corn bread in the cast iron skillet and call it dinner. Mac thought it sounded good so he was on board with it.

Well, the first problem was that I decided this but didn't have enough time for the chickie to thaw. It was about half frozen when it went into the oven. My second problem is I've never cooked with a rub before (other than on the grill, anyway) so I didn't realize it would take longer to bake so the rub didn't burn while the bird was still raw. Of course, I discovered that when I read it online about 10 minutes after the chicken went in the oven. The final problem is that this bird must've been on frickin' steroids because this was a ginormous chicken. Bottom line: the chicken was not going to be done baking the same time as the rest of the food. So I quickly scrambled some eggs and fried up some sausage and we had that with the corn bread and taters.

Though we were all bummed about the chicken, I figured I would just pull it off the carcass and make either a casserole or a pot of homemade chicken and noodle (or dumpling) soup the next day. The chicken actually was taken out of the oven about an hour after we were done with dinner.

Live and learn...

But of course, it couldn't just end there. The chicken was beautiful and fine. It was golden and crispy. The juices bubbled. It smelled like heaven. The aroma was mouth watering even though we were all full from the impromptu breakfast-as-supper- I hastily tossed together at the last minute. We even pulled off little bits of the chicken and the skin- it was tender and golden. This was the perfectly baked chicken- with not one bag of guts or flame or exploding anything in sight.

Daddy-O and I decided we would leave it on the counter to cool to the touch before pulling it off the bone. We weren't going to leave it out long enough that anyone would get sick, but this was piping hot and before ripping all that scrumptious meat from the carcase it had to cool off.

In about 30 minutes I went to the kitchen to start on the bird and snatch a few yummy bites while "plucking" only to find to my utter horror that the chicken was no longer fit for human consumption because ...*dramatic pause*... it was covered in about 50 enormous black ants. Oh. My. G-R-O-double S-- GROSS!

Now Daddy-O and I are clean people. We are rather fastidious when it comes to a clean kitchen. Some folks might even akin such cleanliness to an OCD that should be medically treated since we clean everything with bleach water and 409 ALL THE TIME. There isn't a crumb or a smear of jam or a bit of food to be found. We didn't have ants 'cause we're nasty. We have ants because it's the MidfreakingWest in the middle of July in high humidity with temperatures hovering near 100 in a house that's over 100 years old and the ants just need to go somewhere. And all over my dang chicken is the somewhere they went, those little bastards.

I was mortified and mad. I was disgusted and pissed. I was grossed out and just irritated. I felt bad that Daddy-O, who bought groceries, had wasted money on food we couldn't eat AND that all the patience and hard work to make the perfect chicken was stamped out by the "Invasion of the Picnic Creatures."

And I swear if I had waited 10 more minutes to walk into that kitchen, the chicken would've marched passed us in the living room! And the final exceptionally gross thing is that the ants were stuck in either the grease at the bottom of the pan or in the rub goo on top of the bird. Oh, it was just awful! AWFUL AWFUL AWFUL!

So the bird went into the trash, the pan was immediately set to soak in hot soapy water, Taro the Ant killer was set out all over the place, and the bleach water and 409 were hauled out to scrub yet again.

I hate ants. This is my second run in with ants on my food in my lifetime but at least this time I didn't eat them. That's a post for another day.

I don't think I'll ever eat chicken again. Or at least not for a very looooong time.

cluck it,
Maggie

Heard at the Ice cream parlor

Since the Dairy Queen Blizzard has made it possible to have ANYTHING on ice cream, blending soft serve vanilla with candy, cookies, fruit, and the like- I want to explain something briefly.

Here in the Midwest, Butter Pecan ice cream is as popular as vanilla, strawberry, chocolate and Rocky Road. It's not a vanilla ice cream with pecans on it Blizzard style, but an actual flavor of hard ice cream, sold in tub, that is a rich and creamy buttery vanilla ice cream with a hint of pecan taste as well as having HUGE chunks of pecans liberally throughout the container. Butter Pecan is such a popular flavor that here in the Midwest it's sold in gallon and half gallon containers in grocery stores like Marsh, IGA and Kroger. It's probably the most commonly sold flavor we sell at the parlor.

So all that being said, a guy comes in the ice cream parlor and orders a waffle cone with 2 dips of butter pecan ice cream. "And I want that with no pecans." I stare at him and then tell him the pecans are in the ice cream. And then he responds to me with:

"Well, duh, I know that. Just dip around them."

What a stupid fucker.

Another damn dream (or is it a nightmare?) with a different type of snake

Okay, here's another dream. I thought I'd just throw it out for more blog fodder. In this dream I'm living in Dublin.

I'm sitting in the bar called The Library Pub, a wonderful and quaint little pub in Dublin (it's a real bar, not just in my dream). I'm curled up in a corner, sitting on a couch, grading papers. I'm drinking a Bulmers Cider. I look good- my hair is longer again and to my shoulders. I have on textured tights (all the rage in Dublin), black knee boots, a short gray skirt, a white shirt with a black sweater vest. I look very teachery but sexy at the same time.

And then in walks AIISam... remember this is a dream, folks! And we have this conversation:

Sam- "Uhhhhh, Maggie? Maggie, is that really you? What are you doing HERE?"
Me- having a drink and marking papers. (barely looking up at him)
Sam- Is this a holiday? Wait... marking papers? (and he looks pretty confused, stunned, a bit pleased and just shocked) You're in Ireland! Why?
Me- Yes. (and I just stare at him expectantly)
Sam- why are you marking papers? What do you mean marking papers? (And he sits down, or more actually, sinks in shock, into a nearby chair)
Me- I'm a teacher and this is what we do.
Sam- you're teaching? here in Dublin?
Me- yes (and I smile coyly and down the rest of my drink)
Sam- how did that happen?
Me- Well, you remember the woman I met on the plane on the way to Milan who was a teacher? We exchanged info and she called me to say her school wanted to hire an American for a year and one thing led to another and here I am.
Sam- how long have you been in Dublin?
Me- Since mid July
Sam- (in a totally shocked, stunned and hurt voice) You've been here three and a half months and you've never called me? never contacted me? Nothing?
Me- (in a really shitty, cold voice) You are kidding, right? You made it completely clear that you wanted nothing to do with me- no emails, no calls. Hell, you didn't even let me know if you got the package I sent all those months ago like you promised. Do not even act like this affects you.

I then told him I needed to leave so I collected my stuff, said goodbye and I went into the backroom of the bar and hid in another chair. The waitress brought me another Bulmers and wouldn't take my money. Apparently Sam checked to see if I was really leaving. He walked over and said he was sorry. We had a bit of small talk about teaching and his job. He also asked if I was doing any traveling and I told him about several trips into the country and about visiting several blog friends throughout Great Britain, as well as going to Northern Ireland to see another blogger. He wanted to know how I found living in Dublin and that he couldn't believe we hadn't run into each other and he exclaimed:

Sam- I'm sorry. But you're here and if we lived in the same city, then we wouldn't have had to break up!
Me- I don't believe that.
Sam- I'm sorry. Can I buy you a drink? Would you like to get dinner? We can catch up.

And then I wake up. I'm not eating leftover Chinese food before I go to bed anymore.

These dreams go on when I close my eyes,
Maggie

What's cookin'?

I love to cook. It has always been my big dark secret because if people knew I loved to cook then they would expect me to do it all the time. But I haven't always loved to cook... And to be honest- shhhhhhhhhh, it's a secret- I haven't always been very good at it either.

One time, several years ago, I decided to invite a few friends over and I was going to grill out- you know, have a backyard BBQ/ cook out type of thing. Everyone arrives, we mix some drinks and I decide to light the grill.

Have I mentioned I'd never USED a grill before? In my life, men had always grilled but I thought it didn't look that hard and that I could do it... Ummmmmm, well....

It was a charcoal grill and I didn't know about the easy light kind of charcoal so I got the cheap kind and doused it in lighter fluid. And then threw a match on it and closed the lid. That was the first among a long list of mistakes. Another error was grill placement- it was in the driveway, but sort of near the actual garage, sitting under the garage overhang, sort of close.

When I flipped the lid up about 15 minutes later a ball of flame shot straight up and POOF- the garage over hang was... well, it was on fire- a small fire with more smoke than flame, but nonetheless on fire. Party guests were standing open mouthed, someone party fouled by spilling beer in shock while another friend grabbed the hose and doused the grill, the garage and me. I wasn't on fire- other than my face being red with embarrassment- and I sort of had a POOF of soot on me- I think she just wanted a chance to hit me with the hose.

This was not what you would call my best moment so the men of the party took over the grill. I picked up the platter of meat, took it in the house, rinsed it off and the guys threw it on the grill. I also changed clothes since I was dripping wet. The rest of the night went off without a hitch.

And I will now publicly admit that I never told my landlord what happened; I just cleaned off the soot, nailed some boards up and then painted the hell out of the "charred" area

But I have decided I want to learn to grill. I have done without grilled food during the major parts of my life when I am sans a man and that's stupid because I LOVE steaks and chicken on a grill. Why am I missing something I love just because there is no testosterone operating the meat over flames? I've learned to kill spiders and take out the trash, so I've decided I MUST learn to grill.

Over the years as I've had one cooking disaster after another as I learn the craft, I'm usually making a cooking fool of myself in front of others. And since I'm still living in Daddy-O's attic I haven't wanted to learn to grill and ruin food that he bought or make him feel like he should take over and grill FOR me.

So Daddy-O is leaving on vacation tomorrow and while he's gone, I decided I'm going to learn to grill. Daddy-O has a charcoal one and I can just mess with it until I get it right or until I give up, or until I burn the garage down- Oh just kidding, that won't happen! (But I do notice that Daddy-O made sure his insurance was paid current before he left...hmmmmmmmmmmm)

While I was visiting Farrago a few weeks ago, I teased him a little bit because he was timing to the second our steaks, but I guffawed too soon and I'm glad he didn't make me eat my words but instead he made me eat a great steak and his perfect timing was worth it. He shared his secret AND he also told me his secret to grilling an entire chicken on a grill without needing a rotisserie. Daddy-O also told me a secret to charcoal lighting. I've read some cookbooks for grilling and some online articles. I am ready!

I plan on trying some steaks and making chicken and adding my homemade BBQ sauce. I'm armed with knowledge, meat, the grill, and charcoal. And the fire extinguisher.

Daddy-O doesn't have a thing to worry while he's gone! I know where the garden hose is located and I know how to dial 911!

Soon to be a Grilling Queen,
Maggie