"...In the end, people either have excuses or experiences; reasons or results; buts or
brilliance. They either have what they wanted or they have a detailed list of all the rational reasons why not."

~ Anonymous
(taken from Matt Erbele's, It Takes Time to Get Good)

Thursday, March 17, 2011

Recent things that made my heart happy

Sometimes I am overwhelmed by the truly amazing things and people in my life. I did absolutely nothing to deserve any of it. As a matter of fact, for a good portion of my life I actively campaigned to ensure that my life would be as miserable as possible, but nonetheless, there are times when I get that 'almost can't breathe' feeling that I recognize as my soul smiling.

I always felt that Charles Schultz captured pure joy in this image. Yeah, yeah, it is corny. Bite me. 

1. The sound of my husband and dog snoring in stereo. It is a safe, content, reassuring sound.  

(Ok, in the interest of proving that this post is not the work of some pollyanna hacking RBR's blog and blowing smoke up your collective asses, this particular "appreciation" is situational. There are times when that sound makes me I want to shove my fingers up his nostrils until he thrashes violently awake, but tonight it is a safe and reassuring sound.)

2. This post.  

Even if you could give two shits about the Phillies, and I certainly fall into that camp, your soul is just a little dead and, really, you may be a fucking sociopath if reading that post does not make you misty eyed and restore your faith in humankind.

3. It is looking more and more like R is going to graduate. He tries to act like he is not proud and it is no big deal, but his little boy smile belies that. I can't talk when he does that. It makes a lump in my throat.

I have never written about R and will only do so in an abstract way now, but he was in my class three years ago and is now a senior. He is one of many of my students that got dealt a crapfest of a hand in life. High school graduation was never assumed for him. It was never viewed as the insignificant stepping stone to college as it was for me and many other people.  He wears the uniform of the apathetic, thug-ish teen, but underneath that scraggly-ass ponytail, oversized black sweatshirt, and absurdly sagging jeans, is a really great human. I am already stocking up on Kleenex. I am going to be a blubbering mess when that kid crosses the stage to Pomp and Circumstance. He will be the first in his family to graduate from high school on time, with a full fledged diploma (not a GED), no children, and no (significant) police record.

4.  The pink rhinoceros/dragon thing that sits on my desk and Eddy bought me at the grocery store that was trying to offload leftover Valentine's Day crap. 

He does not realize that he bought it for me on our 20th anniversary. He just thought it would make me smile. I like having someone that thinks about me like that. I also like the thought of my bad ass, tattooed husband walking through the store carrying a pink rhinoceros/dragon thing.  (In his defense, our 20th anniversary date is a tad arbitrary and was hallmarked 20 years ago by being the day I left the guy I was seeing for Eddy. I viewed men like jobs, you do not live the old one until you have a new one. I know, tacky. Lighten up, Mr/Ms Judgey-pants, I was 21.)

5. Tuesday I had one of those effortless, completely pain-free runs.

It was not far, it was not fast, it was even on the fucking treadmill, but it was a 'I can run like this forever!' run. Glorious. I needed one of those. I call those runs the 'first crack hit' of running. For those of you that do not smoke crack (*eyeroll* Squares!) the first crack hit is the only good one (from what I am told) and it is what keeps addicts chasing the high. After that, you start to suffer holding on to the delusion that if you keep doing it you will feel that way again (and subsequently, you blow your rent money, your kid's college fund, 75% of your brain cells, start bargaining with your dealer about how much he will give you for a kidney.... you know, every hobby has its price)

Ok, enough of that, I am even making myself a little ill.

Tuesday, March 8, 2011

The vile, the verminous, and the vacuous*

The little bastards got me sick again. I have only been sick once this year, and being as how high school teachers are second only to pre-school teachers and inner city needle exchange program volunteers in their exposure to an inconceivable number of pathogens, that is a bloody miracle (RBR now swearing in multiple dialects!)

However, I feel as if I must add, my snottastic self may be why I did not run this morning, but it is NOT why I have not run in a little over 2 weeks.  I did have gum surgery which was, in a word, FUCKED. (Shut up, G) But I am not sure why I have not run other than that.

Therefore, in the interest of getting my famously, fat fanny*: 1. less fat and 2. back out on the trail where it belongs, I thought I would out my lethargic self  (Again, shut it, G) on the old blog since it is here gathering dust.

In lieu of running, I offer you randomness...

Things I wish I had said recently....

1. "Wait, let me stop your blowing sunshine up my ass. If you are complimenting me as a way to segue into asking me to be on any committees, advisory councils, development boards, working groups, or planning boards the answer is...


But thank you for thinking of me."

What I actually said was: Sure. I can do that.  Fucking hell.

2. "Why, yes, I have lost weight, thank you for noticing. What? That is not what you meant by 'Man, you look tired'? My mistake. I thought you were a socially competent person."

What I actually said was: *awkward laugh* I guess I have been burning the candle at both ends.  *awkward laugh*

3. "Stepping closer to me and talking louder does not make you right. It makes you a fucking asshole, but it does not make you right."

What I actually said was: I guess we should agree to disagree. What a pussy I am *eyeroll*

4. "No, thank you, I do not want any today, but I would like to be able to enter the grocery store without feeling like I am selling children into the sex slave trade by not buying any of your fucking cookies."

What I actually said was: Sure. I will take 4 boxes. Fucking Girl Scout Gestapo

*My apologies to known self-blog title-loathing, alliteration hater, SQ.