Boogers - Bathroom Series, Part 1

They built us new bathrooms when they did the school remodel. That's fantastic, right? As far as community bathrooms go, this one is pretty nice.

In early fall, I walked into my favorite stall and noticed what appeared to be a booger on the wall of the stall. I am very easily disturbed by other people's icky things, and I was only able to calm myself down by the fact that the booger would be erased forever when the bathrooms were cleaned that evening.

The next day, the booger was still there.

For over a week, this booger held steadfast to its spot on the wall. Eventually, I took an empty toilet paper roll (This makes it sound like our bathrooms are never cleaned, doesn't it? Not the case, I promise.) and used that as my weapon to remove the booger.

Not ONE FREAKING WEEK LATER, a new booger was smeared on the wall. Who the hell does this? It has to be an adult woman, as it is the staff bathroom. And really, Friends? What better place to pick your nose because not only is it private, but there is toilet paper RIGHT THERE for you to use as booger holders. Use the toilet paper. Please, I beg of you.

Same story, did not get taken care of, I used my shoe, yadda yadda.

Last Friday I went into my favorite stall and there was another booger smeared on the wall. I did not take care of it. I just want to write a note and post it in the stall. My mental letter goes something like this:

Dear Booger-Wiper,
What the hell is wrong with you? This is the adult bathroom. We do not wipe boogers on the wall. Actually, my third graders don't even wipe boogers on the wall. There is plenty of toilet paper here, use that. If you can't handle disposing of your nose gold properly, I would suggest you use a different bathroom.
Sincerely,
A Kleenex-User


I can't even comprehend this disgustingness.

Someone, anyone, please share a job related story for me that will make me feel better about this situation.

Oh, Albert!

My class and I have a pet.

This is interesting mostly because we did not purchase said pet.

Also it is interesting because it is not a pet that I would ever choose.

We have a lizard.

I found him at about seven p.m. on a Thursday night in early December. Right here:

 I screamed quite loudly and yelled for the teacher next door. Yes, we are too lazy to use the phone or walk outside to the other person's room. We just yell. Anyway, in the end I figured that I have had roaches, mice, and huge amounts of crickets in my room. A lizard seemed kind of minor in comparison. Plus, the number of crickets has gone way down, so bonus, you know?

When I told the students about Albert, they were excited. We named him Albert Einstein. In reality it could easily be Alberta, because I'm not really up on my lizards.

Here we have a close-up shot:

It seems that little Albert has become a bit more social in the past few weeks. I am seeing him out and about more. Walking over to my bag and seeing a lizard crawl out still makes me jump. The kids are careful when they move about the room. Or put on their coats. Last week Al was hanging out on someone's sweater.  Earlier today I rolled my wheelie chair over a cord and gasped as I thought I had shortened poor Al's already short life. So I'm not sure if he's feeling frisky or what, but the dude is everywhere. *

The highlight of my day today (besides, you know, changing the future by inspiring minds) was after I came over to my desk and Albert scuttled out from behind some papers I looked at him and said on a sigh, "Oh, Albert." and shook my head. And then I realized that I had become that person that speaks to lizards. That speaks to lizards as though they are human.

That's worse than a crazy cat lady by about a million.

*Yes, I have realized that Albert could actually be AlbertS, but I am refusing to entertain that possibility because then not only would there be a lot of creepers in my room, but also because then I would be the loony lizard lady.

It's a Bunch of B.S.

Last weekend Jeremiah went to get our basket by himself, as I'd been having some episodes with my muscles/joints lately and was exhausted (basket pick-up is at 7:00 on a SATURDAY).

Now, most of the time I recognize everything, even if it is something I've never eaten before (with the exception of the figs). Like, I recognized pomegranates, even if I had never consumed them in their original form.

Except last weekend after I woke up and came downstairs, there were these things...odd little round things. They were kind of cute, really. A big bag of them. I looked at Jeremiah quizzically and held one up in sort of a silent question.

Do you know what they were?

A big ass bag of...

BRUSSEL SPROUTS.

Yes, the girl who can now eat tofu with a straight face and who will try just about anything (so long as it is not beef, pork, or squash) is terrified of brussel sprouts. Deceptively cute little buggers.

I was determined to try them.

So Jeremiah prepared them like this:

I made the picture extra big so it could be like you were right here with me, trying them and everything.

He used some EVOO and some Johnny's and to be honest...

I could not decide whether I was going to vomit or have seconds. Twenty-nine point two years of fear is a lot to deal with one night at dinner.

If you are like me and have never tried them before, they are meaty. They look like baby heads of lettuce but do not taste anything like lettuce. To me they taste slightly like a mix of peas, cauliflower, and broccoli. Just meaty. And I ended up not eating the outermost leaf and kind of scraping the insides out with my teeth.

Jeremiah loved them and said he would definitely eat them again.

I would probably eat them again, but request another vegetable alongside so as to not be restricted to one veggie that I only like in an okay way.

Thoughts on brussel sprouts? Is there another vegetable you hate? Love? Never tried?

P.S. You have not tried Johnny's, you are crazy and you are missing out. Deliciousness.

P.P.S. Every where I looked I saw brussels sprouts spelled differently. And so if you disagree with my spelling of it, I do not care. I probably disagree with it, too.

I'll See Your Snakes on a Plane and Raise You Bugs in the Hair

Crap.

Without going into too many details (abundance of lice in my classroom), I have now started checking my hair daily for lice. Ick. It does not help that my hair is super long. And sometimes people pet it. I want to shriek "Do NOT pet my hair! It might house tiny disgusting bugs and EGGS!"

Doesn't that make you shudder? Something living off of you. You are host to a parasite. I fear going out in public, shaking my locks, and bugs just falling out all over the place.

So gross. I am not actually hosting anything right now, thank god.

Mostly because bugs on me/in me are my greatest fear in life, but also because I do not think I would be the best hostess. I seem to lack some hostessing skills. I will keep you hydrated but I can't promise anything else.

p.s. And Jeremiah? Contrary to what you seem to believe, it is NOT funny to scream "OHMYGOD, what is THAT?" while you are checking my hair. You KNOW that sometimes there are flannel pillow fuzzies.

Um, You Want Me to Poop Where?

From Last Week:

A few of my students were talking about how cool it would be to go back in time. The following conversation is real. Because really? Who could make this stuff up?

Me: When?

Student 1: The Wild West.

Student 2: YEAH!

Me: pause You know, they didn't have toilets back then inside the houses.

Student 1 & Student 2 exchange awkward glances.


Student 1: In a hushed, horrified tone So if I had to poop?


Me: You'd go outside. Or in a bucket, maybe.


Student 2 wrinkles her nose. Student 1 looks more horrified, if it all possible. His eyes are now HUGE.

Student 2: Like, on the ground?


Me: Maybe the ground. Or in an outdoor toilet called an outhouse.

Student 1: I can't do that. I can't. I can pee outside, sure. But pooping OUTSIDE? No. Forget that.


And that, my friends, is the type of conversation that happens two minutes before the bell rings on a Friday.

Jealous?

Happy Halloween!

I wanted to provide you with a post that detailed all the wonderfully spooky things that I did for Halloween.

Except I didn't do anything.

Halloween was sneaky this year. I'm also in crunch-mode with the thesis. I thought opting for the project meant that I wouldn't have to write a paper. Nope, it means I have to do BOTH. Should have researched that a bit more.

I'm plugging along and doing okay. Slow and steady.

Here's all I have to offer you:

That's pretty gross, right? I snapped this picture quite awhile ago while out for a walk. Not too intimidating for me, because I see them on a regular basis at work.

What is everyone else doing for Halloween?

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.

A is for Ants or, Why I Might Be Walking With A Limp...

We had a special field day for our kiddos. It was Wednesday. And there was this ant...

Bastard found me.

He bit me.

The thing is, I know INSTANTLY when I get a bite. The ant might be small but the burning and stinging is instantly intense. It stinks knowing that for the next week or so walking will be a beast. It angers me that one little ant can bring me down.

Because I swell up. And as they are usually on my leg or foot, it makes walking slightly difficult. An inquiring and caring (yet uneducated in my health issues) person asked why I didn't just take an anti-histamine. Well, holy crap. Why didn't I think of that?

Oh.

Because I'm already on THREE daily.

While it might be slightly hard to see, I've included a picture showing the swelling. Those orange/red arrows show the areas effected. Picture an ankle, any ankle at all, in place of the lump that is currently visible. See the slight concave appearance near the top right arrow? That's where my skin normally is. You know, when it isn't all stretchy and swollen. I've even indicated the scene of the bite. I'm sparing you from a close-up which shows the actual pus-filled bump. You're welcome. 

That is why I've been icing and elevating. It helps. It's the ONLY thing that helps besides going to get a steroid injection in the butt. Which, a girl can only get so many of those before she starts looking...not like a girl anymore.

p.s. Today Jeremiah and I were floating in the pool when I hear a kid at the house behind us (yes, the trouble house) exclaim, "Hey! I think there's a pool back there!" Meaning, OUR house. Next thing I hear, "Oh, there's people in the pool." All disappointed. As if he were going to get in if we weren't already in it. I thought he was just peeking over the fence. Oh.No. He had climbed the tree and was sitting there staring at us. About four yards away. Talking like we weren't there. Staring. I know it's a kid, but what is wrong with these people?

What I Want to Write, But Can't

I was stopped recently by a co-worker who wanted to tell a story.  And they led with I mean, It started out as though Wait. It seemed as though it was going to relate to Crap. I would love (more than the extreme mint-chocolate ice cream available only at Albertson's, which I go to only for the extreme mint-chocolate ice cream) to be able to share some deets about co-workers. Nothing personal, no names,  just personalities. Nothing mean, even. Quirks, if you will. You'd all be like, "Yeah, I know someone like that, too." And we'd share a laugh.

Alas, I have to work here. And I like the people I work with. I really do. And I wouldn't want to hurt anyone's feelings, so the funny post about a co-worker will have to wait.

So that is why I can't tell you the quirkiness that occurred. Sigh. But I am TOTALLY open to hear YOUR quirky co-worker stories! You can leave it anonymous. Or not post at all. Because that happens a lot here, too.  And I'm learning to be okay with that. You're okay. I'm okay.


A Completely Unrelated Bathroom Update...
It's now week three of sharing a bathroom with A BOY. I'm not sure I'm cut out for sharing at all, let alone with a grody boy. I'll share other spaces, but bathrooms are off limits. I'm way out of my comfort zone, people. Like, we passed my comfort zone about a week ago. Zoomed past it at eighty miles an hour. It was a blur. Didn't even have time to say goodbye. I miss it.

Did I mention that I have issues with other people's germs? I do. I'd like to say it is because I catch everything that everyone else has, but it is more than that. Sadly. I won't go into details because I'd like for you to come back to my blog and read again. And not think I'm super weird.

So anyway, the bathroom is at a standstill because we're unable to find replacement strips for the shower. Such a simple thing, and yet...no.

Have a great weekend.

P.S. One of my students told me today that men can have babies. I was all, "Um, you might want to talk to someone at home about that."

Bathroom Remodel, Part 2...Now With Pictures!

Hi.

How ya doin'?

I thought I would provide you with an all-access pass into our master bath. I know, it's what you've always wanted. Just don't make a mess (insert hysterical laughter here). I'd be more nervous about it if it wasn't already better than it was before. I hate the master bath. Like I hate squash. Seriously gross.

Here is Jeremiah choosing which tool to use next on his mission destroy bathroom. Using some of my tools. That's right. I have tools. And a hammer. Which I may or may not have stolen from work accidentally. And which I just realized could probably be grouped in with the tools and need not be mentioned separately.

Here's where my new tub will go! Please ignore the dog, scale, and boxes of contact lenses. And there is a HUGE window above the tub. Jeremiah is going to be tearing out the cheap-ass blinds and I'll be frosting the window like I did here: Part 1 and Part 2. I'm excited to get the light and not worry about having people see me tinkle. Or bathe.

Below is the shower. Taken apart. Because we found mold. That we sort of knew was there. So Jer is taking it apart, re-sealing & caulking everything. How fun for him.

I figure that the yellowed strips are probably a sign that they are old, cracked, and not keeping the water where it should be. And that's my hammer.

Some of the damage caused by the leaking shower. Stupid shower. Side note: How do people shower in those stalls? Even the one I had in college was bigger than this. Every time I have to use this I get claustrophobic.

More damage...and a nose-y dog. He's all, "Holy Sheet, thees eeees a mess!"

Seriously, damage. And a question to the previous homeowners: Did you not see the damage? Did you not care enough about your house to FIX THE FACIN' PROBLEM? Okay, so two questions, really.

We're going to be tearing out the floor, too. And all the funky damage underneath, too. This makes me giddy because I DESPISE the linoleum. In the whole house we've torn up linoleum in a bathroom, kitchen, entry, and laundry room. This is the ugliest by far (p.s. If you have this, I'm sorry. It's really not so bad.). And I honestly don't have anything against linoleum. As long as it looks nice.

We're going to put in tile. Ideally I could put in tile planks that look like these: Love you forever, dear wood-like tiles. Unfortunately, I am but a poor school teacher and it isn't in the budget. So we'll do regular tiles in the bathroom - much cheaper. Let me promise you this. Those planks (maybe not that color, but the style) will show up SOMEWHERE in our house. I'd love to have them downstairs or in the other bathroom. Fingers crossed.

Anyhoo, all this is worth it because here is my new tub. In the bedroom. Next to my books and dresser. I haven't been able to wear anything from the dresser or put my undies away for two weeks now.

Here's that sticker price that Jeremiah got knocked down to an even $300. Saved seven hundred dollars off the original $992.00 Whatta man. Whatta man. Whatta mighty good man.

And to top it off, we're trying to decide on paint colors for both the bathroom and bedroom. I'm leaning towards a greyish-blueish-purple. Much more grey than blue. For the bedroom. The bathroom will be lighter. Almost white, but not.

So how are you? You never did say. Working on any big projects at your casa?

p.s. What I'm listening to? Beyonce's Halo. Over and over and over again.

p.p.s. I also want to mention that ideally the bathroom door will be playing a disappearing act and something much better will replace it, as it now smacks into the tub area when it opens and takes up a lot of our bathroom space when it is opened. And blocks the light from the window. The cabinets will be re-finished. The lighting will be changed. Holy Remodel, Batman, that's a lot of crap to do!

Numb Noses & Hairy Ears

Well.

Went to my new ENT yesterday. I have been having problems with my allergies since I've moved here, and they just keep getting worse. And my family doctor is clueless (I'm looking for a new one. She also told me the answer to my muscle problems was sports drinks. Apparently she mistakes me for being so dumb that I don't know the difference between ache-y muscles and muscles that are on fire and being smashed with a mallet. I tried the drinks, just in case. They didn't work.).

Anyway, I went to the ENT.

He was funny. He was nice. He was prompt. He suggested a course of action - which I love.

And then...

He numbed my nose, throat, and sinuses. So he could see all the action up in there.I'm not sure if I've had this done before. It opens the nose up so he can stick a long black thing up there (with a camera?). I closed my eyes for it. Nothing I needed to see. But can I say? The only thing weirder than feeling those parts fall asleep? Feeling them wake up. Weirdest damn thing. Felt a bit silly, trying to eat my dinner and you know, swallow.

And then...

I was having serious ear problems. SERIOUS. Weird noises, slight pain, etc. He takes a deep look. He grabs these ultra-sharp scissors.

It is at this point that I grab his coat. I am THAT patient. Some doctors get weirded out by my touching. I touch. Or tap. Or even swat. My chiropractor calls his personal approach "get in, get it done, get the hell out of the way". I tend to do little taps or sometimes hit.

Not hard. Just so they know I'm there.

Anyway, I grab the coat, he pauses (but apparently isn't weirded out) to say that I'd best not move. Okey Dokey. Ten-Four. I drop the coat.

The scissors go IN MY EAR and they pull out...


a teeny, tiny, itty-bitty...


Atticus hair.

All the pain and irritation. Caused by a single hair. I'm not too embarrassed by this because we're clean people. I'll chalk it up to "it was bound to happen." I've never not had a pet. One hair is bound to make its way into my ear. And I clean my ears but this baby was way in there. Remember the scissors?

Could have been worse. I had a student with a tick in the ear. I knew a person with a moth in their ear. LIVING THINGS. So my hair? Not a big deal.

Anyway, today I'm feeling about 90% good. Let's hope it stays that way. Hope my story wasn't TMI. Lovesies you.

Holy Crickets, Batman

I've noticed an abundance of crickets in my classroom. They spray every summer while the kids and staff are gone, but I always get extra crickets. They heart me. And my bulletin board outside my room. And the metal sheet that covers my windows. They live there. They like to visit my students. My students and I? Do not love the crickets.

So today they sprayed after school. And HUNDREDS of crickets came pouring out from behind the board and sheet, covering the sidewalk and wall. Kids were screaming, staff & parents were congregating.

Seriously. Grossest. Thing. Ever.

It was like a horror movie.

I'm now locked in my room because they are trying to get in every time I open the door and even when it is closed they squeeze under it.