I Don’t Know Where To Begin

Which of course, means, I likely won’t know when to end… So prepare for a long, rambling one…

My friends who read this blog will laugh hysterically at the gross understatement I’m about to make. I’m a procrastinator. I can admit it. I wait until the last minute to do EVERYTHING. I’m not just talking about when I was in college I’d procrastinate on projects and papers. I seriously procrastinate on everything. I procrastinate at work. I procrastinate at home. I procrastinate when I bake (which is why I’m baking cakes at 8:30 pm when all y’all are watching TV or something.). I procrastinate when I knit (refer to Cleo and the fact that I’m knitting her AFTER the trip on which I was planning to give her to the lucky recipient). I even procrastinate on writing my blog. Add to that a good dose of impulsiveness (for example, saying three days before leaving for Thailand, let’s knit a freaking wrap that uses 4 (FOUR) HUGE skeins of yarn! A wrap in 12 days? No problem…) and you’ve got yourself a recipe for disaster. Or at least some flying-by-the-seat-of-your-pants fun.

And all of that was just to tell you, I have so much to tell all y’all and I have no plan. I don’t even have an outline. Or a list. It’s all been gurgling around in my head for the last couple of days. And here it comes. Digital diarrhea…

Speaking of inappropriate comments: My school (which I adore more and more each day, now that I’m a counselor and not a teacher) just went through our accreditation process. It was a loooong process with many inane steps and hoops. The year-and-a-half process culminated this week when the three member Visiting Committee (VC) arrived on Sunday for a three day examination of our campus. They were mostly interested in seeing what’s happening in our classrooms (but that didn’t stop us from tidying up the storage rooms and all, you know, just in case we would be deemed ineffective educators because we had week old donuts on the counter), but there were several points over the three days when I had to meet with them as a member of various committees. So after 3 long days of living in a fishbowl, we’re in the last meeting of their visit. It’s the three members of the VC, our principal, our vice-principal, and myself. We were getting rave reviews from them about how obvious it is that our teachers are committed to our students, that they were able to see that our teachers work beyond their contractual commitments, and about the overwhelming sense of collegiality that they witnessed. It was at this point that I began to slip in a comment about being new to the school and how when I was at my former school in LAUSD…

And I wasn’t able to finish my sentence.

One member of the VC literally started yelling at me about how she had spent her whole career in LAUSD and it was her home and how dare I and it was her home and and and… At one point I vaguely remember her head spinning around three times and green vomit coming out. I can’t quite remember all the details because I was in such a state of shock that the only thoughts in my mind were: 1) Oh.My.Freaking.God, there goes our accreditation, and 2) At least it’s a good time to be looking for a counseling job.

Don’t worry, it ended well. We got our accreditation. And I still have my job. Which is great, because I really love it.

ICN: Yes, there is actually a cake in the works. Well, two actually. The first is an engagement cake. It’s more of a challenge than I thought it was going to be. The Bride-To-Be didn’t want icing. Just cake. No.Icing.Just.Cake. Which, if you’ve seen my cakes, would just be a downright shame. The icing is the fun part. So, after I explained that the icing is the ‘mortar’ that holds the cake ‘bricks’ together and that without it, it would be a big old pile of cake ‘bricks’ waiting to fall over, she relented. So now there’s mortar. And it’s all covered in chocolate fondant. And tomorrow morning the chocolate fondant will be covered with multi-colored daisy-type flowers.

The second cake is for a friend who is having her 29th bday party on Saturday night at a bowling alley! A bowling alley! I can’t wait. I own a bowling ball and a pair of bowling shoes. See for yourself! Gimme a break; I’m from Milwaukee. You know, Schlemeel, schlemazel, hasenfeffer incorporated. Unfortunately, I think having to carry a cake and a bowling bag, AND look cute isn’t all going to happen. So I guess maybe I’ll end up renting some. Or maybe I’ll just concentrate on looking cute…

IKN: I haven’t had time to knit, so there’s not much news! I’ve done a couple of rows on my Monsoon socks and a few rows on Cleo. (Right now I can stand the sight of her, so it’s been a battle to pick her up and work on her. And my friend in Bangkok said it got HOTTER (imagine?! hotter than it was when I was there, egads!), so I’m thinking she won’t have the need for a wrap anytime soon.) And to add some stress to the whole deal, what arrived today?! My next installment from the Socks That Rock Club. Unfortunately, I don’t think I’ll be using the “Knee High To A Grasshopper” pattern as it’s described as “lace beauties” that are “Open and stretchy with a sexy seam up the back.” I’m comfortable with my sexuality, I’m not suicidal.

So I’ll be looking for a pattern for this lovely yarn. One that doesn’t have a sexy seam up the back.

Finally, I hate to end my post on a sombre note, but I think it will be good for me to talk about it. Loss is never easy to talk about. Especially when that loss involves a vital relationship in one’s life. Unfortunately, I have to come to terms with the fact that I will soon be losing one of the most important relationships in my life. I’m hoping that by talking about it now, in preparation for when that day does come, it will make it easier for me to deal with. At this point I can’t imagine living my life without this relationship; it’s become such an integral part of my day-to-day life. But I guess, as they say, all good things must come to an end.

I just hope, that when the day does come, my Palm Treo 650 doesn’t suffer as I will be suffering and that it goes to that junk heap in the sky quickly and with little pain.