It is an honor just to be nominated....

And the Teacher of the Year award goes to....

NOT RBR!

*the crowd goes wild*

This was my fourth nomination in 11 years of teaching.

I have never won.

Yep, I am the Susan Lucci of my school's 'Teacher of Year' Award.

 Susan Lucci played Erica Kane on All My Children for 41 years. She was nominated for an Emmy 18 times before she finally won in 1999. She started on the show at 24 years old. I had to check my math on that, like, three times. Holy Shit! I certainly hope she had cosmetic surgery to look this fucking good at 65. If not, we know who you will find perched next to Satan ruling Hades.

I will be honest two of those times there were such more deserving teachers that even I voted for the winners (Ok, if I am REALLY honest the guy that won this year really deserved it, but you know what? I voted for my fucking self anyway. Sue me), but one of those years I lost to a complete ass wipe and that one still stings.

That particular Teacher of the Year is now a low level administrator at my school. All of his gratuitous ass kissing garnered him the worst gig in administration. Even I can make his life miserable and I have about as much juice in the educational hierarchy as the dude that repaints the panther logo on the front of the school during the summer. So, at least I can bitterly cling to that. *smirk*

The real reason I want to win is that they give you a "crystal" apple that is engraved with 'Teacher of the Year' and your name. It sits on your desk, quietly and unobtrusively telling all that see it that you rock and they can just suck it. It is like a marathon t-shirt that you can 'wear' on your desk everyday.

Sorry if that offends you. If you were thinking that I was not shallow or vain you have not been reading this blog very carefully.

It probably cost $20 and is mass produced in some third world country by enslaved children, but I do not care. I want one, damn it.

Random musings in lieu of any real news:

1. I am considering doing a nutritional "detox" to clear out the remnants of 2010 (IMHO, it is a lot of voo doo BS with a small dose of science thrown in, but at least the one I am considering won't hurt me. Carefully check out any of these 'cleansing' products or programs. Anything that makes you shit neon green 15 times a day for 10 days is NOT good for you no matter what the Barbie doll on the infomercial says)

I also want to cut back on the overly processed so called "white" carbohydrates that I adore so much and that make up at least 90% of my diet.

I am a carbivore of the highest order. Supposedly cutting the amount of carbohydrates (esp. highly processed carbohydrates, like say Hostess pies and Lorna Doone cookies...) in your diet helps regulate blood sugar, fat accumulation (nerdy literature link on fat cell maturation), and level out moods (More nerdy links 1. CHOs and brain chemistry 2. CHOs and depression (specifically SAD) .

At this point, I am willing to bite the head off a fucking chicken if it will help me shake even some of the batshit crazy off of me and, hell, if I can shave a few pounds off the ol' derriere in the process, win/win.

2. I am sick to fucking death of the Pseudoephedrine Law. (Pseudoephedrine (PSE) is the only nasal decongestant, short of  mainlining epinephrine, that works worth a a shit. It is an essential ingredient (in my opinion) in cold and allergy medicine.)  This law was tacked on to the Let's take away all civil liberties under the guise of "protecting freedom"  Act (also known as the Patriot Act). It's goal was to fight the war on methamphetamine production (PSE can relatively easliy be converted into methamphetamine. I say 'relatively' because it takes some pretty serious chemicals and heat to accomplish this and you can be assured that anytime you hear an explosion in a trailer park it is some meth freak vaporizing himself and his miserable existence off the planet. To wit I say. "good fucking riddance")  

Anyhoo.... this law limits the purchase of PSE to the equivalent of ten 24 hr pills per day and up to thirty 24 hr pills for a month AND makes it so you must go to the pharmacy counter to get it. This means that I have to return to the pharmacy every 10 days, stand behind 754 old people (I am sorry, that was not very PC, I mean 'youth challenged' people) that are complaining to the pharmacist about the price of hemorrhoid cream to get some goddamn decongestant.

I am the reigning Snot Queen.  I often need more than one 24 hour pill to continue breathing all day. I can currently buy Vicodin, Oxycontin, and Viagra without a prescription easier than I can get 'over-the-fucking-counter' allergy medicine.

The meth dealers, by the way, are still churning out meth as fast as they make toothless zombies of their clientele. They just have to be sneakier about it and that raises the price of meth. I am sure that won't effect crime rates at all. When drug addicts need money for drugs they always find legal ways to do it, right?

I wonder how effective meth is for congestion? I bet I can get a month supply of that in one purchase. Fucking assholes.


Lola Update - Trail Dog Project: Day 1

Ok, so maybe my prissy, little chihuahua mix is not the most logical choice for a trail dog. On Sunday we attempted our first trail "run." Run is a bit of an over statement, and from her first tentative steps off the sidewalk onto the uneven trail, her face looked like this:

"For the love of all that is holy, please pick me up!" -Lola

Her new campaign slogan for Couch Dog of the Year: Lola! Shorter than grass!

Then she would occasionally stop dead in her tracks in an attempt to make it all end. Unfortunately my tiny canine friend did not pay attention in physics class, because her 5 lb ass was no match for my *mumble mumble* pound ass.

Momentum = mass • velocity

My velocity may not have been for shit, but my mass more than made up for it. This caused her furry little body to skip along behind me, her ears pinned back in a petulant pout. On a downhill section I even got a little 'yip' as she was jerked back into motion by her harness.

Rough day for Lola.

"Can we go home now? My stories are on." - Lola

Some pictures from the family outing to the beach

"Sand smells. Pick me up now." -Lola

"Still hate her. In case you were wondering." - Lucy

One last bit of non-news

We had some issues with the hair. This is the new me for a while at least.

The blond streak is natural from a scar on my scalp. It does not take color well and we were trying to just cover up some really fucked up issues and protect it from further damage. I was not intentionally going for the Lilly Munster look. Upside, I have finally stopped gasping in horror when I see myself in the mirror and I have not cried about it since, well, yesterday.

20 years is a long f-ing time

Let us escape to the 4th dimension so I can jump around wildly in time.

*shaky camera focuses on lame spiral while the hallmark 1960's-going-back-in-time-'doooo dooo dooo' music plays* 

It is March 31, 2011 

OK, I will give you that it is lame to go back in time for just a few days, but I had NO time to write and you, dear reader, got to dust off your white go-go boots and hear the 1960's time machine 'doooo dooo doooo' music, so quit your bitching. 

In my ten year old mind I looked like Nancy Sinatra in my go-go boots,... 

 but in reality I had more of a Miss Piggy thing going on. Whatevs.

It is important that this post be written on that exact date because March 31, 2011 is the day I celebrate 20 years clean and sober.

Side Note: Feel free to skip my self-congratulatory, mental vomitus and go to the end of this post. There is an announcement that you  DO NOT WANT TO MISS.

I will not go into a long, sappy monologue about how my life used to be and how much it changed over the time I have been clean (I did that last year for my 19 years if you are really interested) instead, I wanted to contrast my life today to the last time I celebrated this particular birthday.


Yes,that means you have to get back in the time machine. Get a move on, please...

 Time Machine from Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure, circa 1989. This came out two years before I got clean so, yes, I was high as hell when I watched it. That is pretty much the required mental condition to endure any Keanu Reeves film anyway. 

So March 31, 2010...

My husband had recently been diagnosed with aggressive prostate cancer, he had just started on hormone deprivation therapy (essentially chemical castration to stop the progression of the cancer cells), he was depressed and scared, and I was so terrified I thought I would lose my fucking mind. 

Then 2010 started to throw me curve ball after curve ball. The one downside to having wonderful people in your life that you love so much it makes you feel like your heart will stop is that when something bad happens to them you actually give a shit. That is painful and I am not a fan of feeling pain or most of the emotions associated with fearing for a loved one.   

 I would love to tell you that I trudged bravely through all of the events of the last year with warrior-like stoicism, but, truthfully, I was a mess. Just a hot, fucking mess. I was closer to throwing it all away this time last year than I had ever been in the 19 years prior.  

I have many people, including many that read this blog, to thank for helping me scoop up that hot mess, put it in a bag, and keep moving forward. Through this we both found that we had been taking a lot of things for granted and recommitted to both each other and the thing  that made all of the rest of our life possible and eventually, and yes, I am sorry to say it, but 'one day at a time', (it is ok for you to roll your eyes. I do when I hear that cornball cliche) I got to today. Today is pretty goddamn good. It ain't perfect, but it is pretty goddamn good.

Today on March 31, 2011, hubby has completed treatment, is doing well, and is slowly getting back to where he feels like his old self.  The rest of my friends and family are healthy and happy. My best friend in all the world is going to have a baby sometime very, very soon. 

And me? I feel like the 6-ton elephant that was sitting on my chest has finally moved off. He will occasionally stand in the middle of the room as a reminder that we have still some major stuff going on, but at least I feel like I can breathe again. 

I searched for images of 'elephant on my chest' and this came up. It never ceases to amaze me what idiots will have permanently inked on their skin. 

"Give me a call in 15 years, Sweetie, when that elephant looks more like a giraffe."

All in all, I had a great birthday and celebrated with friends. They even got me my favorite cake (Yes, Jo Lynn, I know owe you one of these cakes. I swear someday I will get you one!) 

From Aki's Bakery in San Jose. It is white cake with whipped cream frosting and fresh strawberries and whip cream in the center. It does not sounds like the over-the-top decadent you have grown accustomed to on Run Bitch Run, but believe me it is SCREAMIN' !! 

Ok, back in the time machine for the for the BIG news...

Now we are back at Tuesday, March 29, 2011. 

I would like to introduce the newest member of our family

LOLA! 

 This was taken about 15 minutes after we adopted her. I look like shit on a stick. Taking pictures of a nervous, wiggling puppy with piece of shit Palm Pixie cell phone camera, was harder than you would think and I imagine you think it would be pretty hard. I had to kind of squish her and it is still blurry. I have lots of shots of the car seat and the side of her body if you want to see those.

She is a ~1 year old chihuahua mix that we adopted from STAR Rescue. (I found her by searching on Petfinder.com. An easily searchable website that rescue organizations and shelters from all over the country can advertise their pets available for adoption on for free.) We do not know much about her life before she ended up in rescue, but she was on the street and did not do well in the shelter and a very kind woman named Elizabeth from STAR Rescue came to foster her.

Steppin' out at the park this morning. 

She is tiny (MUCH smaller than I ever thought I would have. 5.25 lbs.) she is a little shy, but I will make a trail dog out of her. This weekend I focused on letting her settle in and we went to the park twice a day, and to an event held at Downtown Dogs called a Small Dog Social.  (yes, I am one of THOSE people. When anyone asks, "Who spends money on shit like that for their dog?" I am that 'who'.)

 Hanging with her big sister, Lucy. I LOVE Lucy's body language in this picture. I put her in a stay and that stance is how she could technically be in a stay to get her treat and still be as far away from the puppy as possible.

The Small Dog Social was a lot of fun and I was really proud of how well Lola did. We will go back next weekend. I am also going to take her out on the trails either this week or next weekend and start getting her used to running with me. So expect puppy pictures ad nauseum. I am also checking out different dog trainers and we will start puppy classes on April 20th.

I had minor surgery last week, but it was enough to keep me off the treadmill. I am going to try my first run tomorrow and see how I am feeling. The next run I am planning on right now is the WildCat 1/2 Marathon on April 30.