Weener Weener Cheeeken Deeener

Who won the pool?

Which of you bet that it would take me two and a half weeks to get sick once school started? S'okay. You can admit it. You bet on my crappy immunity. Just waiting to get a post of how I'm sick. Again.

All I can say is, when a doctor prescribes your child meds and they are sick, it is IMPORTANT TO ACTUALLY FILL THE PRESCRIPTION AND PLEASE DON'T SEND YOUR CHILD TO SCHOOL UNTIL YOU HAVE ACTUALLY DONE THAT.

I mean, not that I found this out from experience or anything.

p.s. I would yell at you for profiting from my sickies, but I'm currently nursing a throat that is seriously ON FIRE.

p.p.s. Jeremiah said to tell y'all that it is sad that NONE OF YOU READ BOOKS, judging by lack of response ('cept for Lacie - Thank you!) on my "Please recommend good books".  He then went out and bought a book, I'm guessing for the sole purpose of not experiencing my wrath.
He is also sad that NO ONE commented on the fact that he was JUMPED. 

p.p.p.s. Apparently I'm a fan of CAPS LOCK today. I HATE when people use caps lock all the time. Some people write entirely in caps and it drives me loco. This just goes to show that I'm SICK and GROUCHY.
When I'm not so S & G I will tell you about our incredible day out yesterday which includes some deals at Salvation Army and a trip to the ghetto for some Kielbasa at an AUTHENTIC Polish market.

Anyone else got their grouch on today?


No. 3: Awe, Crap, or "Why I Don't Do the Dishes"


Hi. Hello from hell the Valley of the Sun. Have you seen the weather here lately? It's freaking hot. 115 degrees today. I got in my car after work and I was all, "Okay, Big Guy, are you ready to take me home?" and he was all, "M'eh."

It's too hot. It's not a dry heat when it's this hot. Things sweat. It's gross. I get home and my legs are gritty from salty sweat. If I have parking lot duty I can feel a trail of sweat start at the nape of my neck, go down my back, down my leg, and drip on my sandal. TMI? Maybe.

Here's a less sweaty story.

Before school started I was doing some dishes. Two of my favorite white dishes were stuck together. When I picked them up, they magically fell apart and then, of course, they broke. The top one fell on the bottom one. They broke each other. I was devastated.

Jeremiah came home all excited because I had done the dishes but then I pointed out the horrific site of the accident and he had the decency to pretend that he was upset, too. Or maybe I just imagined that. Grief is tricky sometimes.

I thought that the dishes could live on and be repurposed. Not by me, though. It would have been too hard. So I took them to work and gave them to the art teacher, who couldn't contain her glee as she announced that "They'll be perfect for mosaics! Or, I mean, I'm sorry they broke.".

I never loved you dishes anyway. You are dead to me.
I should point out that this is why I don't do the dishes and it is also why I get my dishes at Goodwill and Salvation Army. All of this heartache probably only cost fifty cents, at the most. Jeremiah tells me that there will be other dishes, but for now he's doing double dish duty, as my set of four perfect white dishes has dwindled to two perfect white dishes.


No. 2: Hooked on Phonics

You know I like to read. Or maybe you don't. If you've been reading the blog for awhile, then you know I set reading goals for myself. They are pathetic, but I don't have much spare reading time, what with classes, conferences, students, and house stuff. And the sickies. Let's not forget that much of 2011 thus far has been spent with useless hands. Which I find necessary with reading. You know, to turn pages and whatnot. I could make Jeremiah stand/lie next to me, hold the book, and turn pages for me but that might be crossing a line. Not sure.

Anyway, I met last year's goal, but I haven't done a book update for 2011 in months. And it occurs to me...

Holy crap. It's August. Almost September. Eek.

And believe it or not, I've been reading. Not tons, but bits here and there. My stack of books to be read is getting huge. I can't help it. I go to Goodwill, the used bookstore, wherever, and I see books that call my name. Borders is going out of business and I've been there twice. I can't help it. It's my sickness.

So here's what I've read recently, trying to make a dent in my huge collection:
  • Janet Evanovich's Smokin' Seventeen  - I feel sad about this, but I don't think Evanovich is still creating great books. The story quality isn't the same as it used to be. Her yearly releases of this series are about as good as the in-between-the-numbers books, which are short little nothings. I keep reading, hoping that she redeems herself. Not a bad read, but nothing special.
  • Lisa Scottoline's Look Again -  I was REALLY looking forward to this book. I was slightly let down. I spent a day reading it and I liked it, but I have discovered that I like Scottoline's series about the ladies at the law office better than the random stories.
  • David Sedaris's When You Are Engulfed In Flames -  I love David Sedaris. I don't think he's written a book that didn't make me laugh out loud. At one point in this story I laughed until I started crying. Then I started coughing (asthma is a bitch). Then I peed my pants just a tiny bit. Freaking sarcastic genius. Great book. His recount of the time when he tried to use a catheter? Priceless.
  • Laurie Notaro's Spooky Little Girl - Started sloooooooooow. Didn't love the characters at all. Maybe that is credit to/proof of Notaro's writing skills? To create characters that seemed really unlikeable? Who knows. About half-way through I got into the story and by the end I was crying a bit.  It was supposed to be funny but I thought it was more witty writing than hilarious humor.

 What's coming up: I don't really know. I've got LOTS of new books. I just have to clean them first. Because most of them came from someone else and that makes me nervous. Time to get out the Clorox Wipes!

For your enjoyment, a recent book convo between CLH and I:
Jeremiah: So are you sure you don't want built-in bookcases somewhere?
Me: But where? I don't have wall space in my craft room for bookcases (Which is true. It's the smallest bedroom in the house. I'm generous that way, leaving the bigger rooms for all of our Jeremiah's company.)
Jeremiah: We can put them wherever you'd like. But now they are kind of...all over the place (He says with as much tact as possible. I'm proud. He didn't even start to shake or anything.) .
Emily: But that IS how I'm organizing my books.
Jeremiah: Huh?
Emily: Well, the school/class books are in the hall closet or my craft room in the closet. The books I've already read for fun are on the shelves in the bedroom. The books that I WANT to read but haven't had time for are on the shelves in the front room, along with the reference books that I like to keep on hand and the coffee table books that I don't keep on the tables.
Jeremiah: (At this point he might be shaking slightly. Just a little.) So am I building shelves?
Emily: No. I've got it all figured out in here (Points to head.).
Jeremiah: Openly weeps in frustration at his organized/disorganized girlfriend.

p.s. I am NOT one of those people that can organize all their books by COLOR. Who does that? Sure it looks great, but how do you find your freaking books? I have some thoughts about the majority of these people and the thoughts swirl around the idea that the people that have this system might not actually read the books. I'm sure some do, but...

And I told Jeremiah about color-coding and he died a tiny bit. Jeremiah organizes his collections of music by genre and then by musician's name in alphabetical order. I might have told him this just to be mean. Because sometimes I am mean.

Does anyone have any book suggestions? I'd love to hear what everyone else is reading.


No. 1: Jumps.

A couple of years into our relationship Jeremiah and I were enjoying Jamba Juices outside JoAnne's (I make him go with to protect me from the crazy people and impulse purchases) and we were talking about whatever and he was all casually like, "Well, it was sort of around the time when I got jumped..." As if he'd mentioned the fact that strangers had beat the snot out of him before. He hadn't, by the way. For those that are wondering a time frame, this was approximately ten years B.E. (Before Emily).

I made him tell me all the details. I'm not going to put everything here. I've got to save some things for my memoirs.  I will tell you this: his numero uno concern was the king-sized candy in his pocket. I can identify. That would have been my numero dos concern (second to only, you know, my body). Especially if I had some Twizzler Sours in my pocket. They aren't even available anymore and I would fight to the death for a pack of those. Once Jeremiah got me TWO LARGE PACKS for my birthday and Spike ate them in the backseat while Jeremiah was in the store getting me a card. All the loose ones and the ones that the dog couldn't get because his nose was too large Jeremiah put in a ziplock baggy and gave me. Thanks, Babe. For reals. Thanks. Do you think I'm gross? I'm not. The dog has all his shots. And I'm not going to think about the fact that he likes his other treats to come from the litter box.

Anyway, back to the jumping -
So then, because I am nothing if not a good girlfriend, I laughed. I laughed at my boyfriend hysterically while he relived a traumatic event. At one point I managed to gasp, "Were...you...okay?"He gets mad when I laugh about this.  "It was not funny." is what he says to me. That might make me laugh more.

For the record - I know that getting jumped is serious, but to hear it so casually tossed into a conversation like one might announce they are going for a walk or putting gas in the car - hilarious.

For sure I'm going to hell except that I've got my "get out of hell free" card. They give it to teachers that teach in less than desirable areas. I'm still going to see if I can drive the bus down so I can give smooches to Jeremiah as I drop him off and visit with some people.

I mean, he did, after all, give me used candy for my birthday.

p.s. Jeremiah asked me if that story was going in my book. I told him hells yes it was and that also I would be taking the pictures for the cover of the book myself. I told him my plan and he shook his head and looked away. Then the vet came in the room to stick the thermometer up Mel's butt and that kind of ends all conversation. Because I had to hold up her tail. Awkward. Hard to hold kitty tail when you are silently laughing.


First Day Jitters or, Do They Make Coordinating Leashes & Jammies?

Presentation? Done.

Proposal? Done.

First Day of School? Done.

I'm going to go home and collapse now. After I make some copies. I'm freaking exhausted.

p.s. I should mention that I had another night terror last night. I'm pretty sure Jeremiah is the luckiest guy ever. Actually, I'm pretty sure that if HE was ever to have a night terror I'd pee my pants when he started screaming and then I'd sleep somewhere else. Not near him. So maybe he isn't so lucky because the whole thing is a bit terrifying. And confusing. Mostly confusing because I wake up thinking, "Why aren't I lying down?" or "Why aren't I in bed?" or "Why am I standing here pointing at the carpet?" (This was Jeremiah's personal favorite, The Carpet Episode.) or "Spiders on the headboard? We don't have a headboard." And it makes my heart race like crazy. I was apparently ranting about spiders (again) and having to get up because it was early. I was also sitting up and moving around. Because, you know, even while one is sleeping exercise is important. The only thing I actually remember is him turning on his cell phone to see the time (this is actually what woke me up) and I remember saying something about making choices. Spider choices, I guess.

I asked him later today why it doesn't freak him out when this happens and he said it was because I was awake - my eyes were open, I was talking.


I then informed him that I'm not actually awake when this happens and there was a bit of silence. Then he said, "Well, shit. We're going to have to get you a leash.".

Nice, babe.


Something grosser than yesterday's post

I take little breaks during my high stress days. This post is brought to you by one of those breaks. And it's gross, keeping with the theme of things.

So you know how normally when I get stung/bitten by an ant, I swell up? Remember the pictures I've shared? Not being able to walk or use my arm? I mean, depending on the location of the bite. On a regular day I can usually use my arms and legs.

I got another bite this weekend, except it wasn't the same type of ant. This guy was a bit bigger and it hurt like fire. The other bites hurt too, but this was a little different.  Like someone taking a needle, putting a lot of poison on it, setting it on fire, and then poking me. In my elbow pit.

And it immediately swelled and turned red, but only slightly, not like the others.

The next morning though, I was treated to this:

Objects in picture may appear smaller than they actually are.
That's a pus-filled lump, people. How gross is that? My greatest fear in life is bugs living under my skin, so this was horrifying to me. Spiders crawling down my arm, under my skin, down into the thin skin on my hand, stretching it out, ripping the skin...I just scared myself. Just a little.

And while I logically knew that nothing was living in my arm, I couldn't let it be. I washed it thoroughly and popped it. I put some of the stuff in the brown bottle on it. You know the stuff? I'm doing okay. For future reference, I don't care for pus-bumps. Or ants.


Gross. Go ahead and put this under "Too Much Information" as well.

I just went to the bathrooms at work. I might be procrastinating but only a little. Upon sitting down, I discovered that the floor was covered with hairs. I'll leave it at that. The bathrooms don't get cleaned again until school starts so it's been a good two months of regular usage without being cleaned. I turn around to flush (staying on my tiptoes because the floor is so dirty) and there is a cockroach the size of a jetliner lying on the floor, belly up. Twitching slightly. It's like peeing in a port-a-potty. At a summer concert. With Cousin Itt.

Out of four stalls, there are now only two that I can use due to my apparently outrageous desire to tinkle somewhere that isn't bug infested and hair-covered.

On a not-so-disgusting note, I have completed my presentation slides. I'm ready to give it tomorrow evening. I've also adjusted to being back to work somewhat (see above if you're confused about this). So what's left on the big stress list?

  1. Actually presenting my proposal
  2. Finishing my thesis proposal
  3. Welcoming back my students in 2 days
  4. Preparing for my students
Cross your fingers. And if you get to pee in a clean bathroom while at work, be thankful.