Contact

I always read emails from people that describe the untimely deaths of their cell phones and laugh, wondering why they never had a back up copy of their address book written out somewhere. Oh ha ha ha... your phone fell in the toilet? You spilled your glass of wine all over it? It flew out of your pocket when you were on the Extreme Frisbee ride? Hilarious! Too funny!

Well, karma strikes again.

I thought I had lost my phone yesterday. It was missing all day Monday and Tuesday until Chris finally called Sprint for me last night and reported it stolen- at which point Sprint replied it had been used very frequently over the past two days. You would think it would be a simple matter of tracking the numbers called and finding the a$$ that took it, but apparently Sprint does not "run a detective agency", so instead I will likely be forced to choose between signing another two-year contract with Sprint (hint: not gonna happen), buying one of their phones outright (ridiculously expensive and the worst phones ever), or cancelling my Sprint service altogether (a $150 cancellation fee). What will I choose? Only whining on the phone to the India-based Sprint customer-service center will tell.

And the kicker? I never made a back up copy of my address book. So if you were expecting to hear from me, here it is. I hope you read this- the innernets all I've got.

I tried to tell myself that being without a phone was liberating. The truth? It sucks. A lot. I need my phone. I mean, I didn't even get to say goodbye to it. What kind of cruel god would take a phone so young? Why?! And couldn't he at least have waited until the ipod phone was available?

An Off Day

Today is one of those disconnect days that happen every so often. Or, if you're me, once a week. So far, I have managed to:

• Wake up 30 minutes late
• Slam my toe into something lying on the floor of our apartment
  
• Walk out of the house without my glasses (not a safe idea for anyone)
  
• Lose my cell phone
• Drop every single thing I've picked up, including my peanut butter sandwich this morning- peanut butter side down, of course
• Recycle my teaching evaluation that I need for licensure
• Lose a pint of blood after catching a dread cuticle on a mylar book jacket
• Realize that my car has a past due inspection- from November

I think it's best for all involved if I just try to quietly get through the rest of the afternoon and then build myself a cozy little nest on the couch with my netflix and some tea. I've learned from experience that when these days hit there's no use trying to do anything or be productive in any way. You just have to ride it out.

And Peace Reigns Once Again

Oh, people. Sorry I didn't post earlier today, but I've recently become very unpopular with the middle school set. I banned video games in the library for the week and I've been dealing with the repercussions since. I mean, I'm pretty sure I can regain my lost cred when I chaperone the school dance (busting out the hip hop moves to some classic Vanilla Ice always wins back their affections- they're so easy), but the kiddos took it pretty hard today.

On the bright side, my library is once again library-like. There's no shouting, swearing, or crowds. Kids were doing homework and there were no fisticuffs over the computers. In short, it was no longer like the mall arcade. It was... peaceful.

That's not to say the library wasn't hopping. I had kind of thought that because of the imposed ban that the computers would be empty, but they were all full of students doing work when I walked by. I was actually pretty impressed, until I walked by one of our more socially unfortunate 6th grade boys and saw this:

GAY PARADE

At first I thought he was just looking up images to get a laugh from his friends. I was about to send him for a little discussion with the Health teacher about respect, when I decided to just ask him point blank what he was doing.

Apparently, he was doing a travel brochure on San Francisco and discovered that the gay pride parade was a large tourist attraction there, so he wanted to include it in his PowerPoint. Normally I would think this was the wise guy answer, but this kid just does not have it in him. Like I said, he's kind of special. Sigh. So I let him keep it. I mean, I guess it was better than the two boys making their own WWE PowerPoint presentation, just for fun. Right?

Bush Confuses Petraeus With Atreyu

In a recent press announcement, President Bush announced his plans to send Army Lieutenant General David Petraeus (recently confirmed by the Senate to command U.S. troops in Iraq) into battle unarmed.

"You must go alone. You must leave all your weapons behind. But you may take this," Bush added, handing Petraeus a metallic object. "This will protect you in your time of need."

Although he appeared slightly puzzled, Petraeus accepted the gift from President Bush as he concluded his speech with a few tips.

"I think you'll find that all you need to do is find yourself a Luck Dragon, General Petraeus, and you'll be well on your way. Hell, he might even get you to the Southern Oracle and you'll get to see them great big Sphinx boobies. You may want to look around Baghdad, I heard they've got Sphinxes that don't even wear burqas 'round there."

Bush's speech also included a number of references to recently executed Saddam Hussein as the "G'mork of Iraq", stating that Petraeus should have a much easier time of it now that he was no longer tracking Petraeus's quest.

As General Petraeus boarded Air Force One this afternoon to begin his post as commander of the U.S. troops Bush added, "You got this one, man. The people of this great U.S. of A, from the Rock Biters to the Night Hobs, believe in you 110%. Good luck with your quest, Petraeus. And don't find me no sissy name like Moon Child, either."

Dotcom

I did a very grown up thing today, in a decidedly un-NPW way. That is, I decided to be proactive for once and actually buy the domain name nancypearlwannabe dot com before it got scooped out from under me. I mean, that name's gotta be a hot commodity, right? It was really quite the score. So, thanks to go daddy, I am now the proud owner of my very own url. And the best part? It doesn't have the vaguely icky word blogspot in it.

The worst part? I'm not much of a web designer. So here's your fair warning: it's going to be a work in progress. Although Blogger has always been quite easy to use (despite it's many, many flaws), I'm thinking of using Word Press as the backbone. That is, unless someone out there has a better idea or has very strong anti-Word Press feelings to share with me. As for the actual layout of the site, I want something that's minimalist and elegant, yet fun. I'm hoping to coerce C into helping me. He'll probably do it for some cookies.

And with that exciting news, I'd better jet. The stupid substitute is in again today and just dropped in to ask me for some lined paper; apparently one of his students chewed all his yesterday.

Yeah. I didn't ask.

Molten Plastic And Me

I just spent 30 minutes wrestling with the laminating machine. I don't quite get how changing the plastic laminate rolls requires an advanced PhD from MIT, but when I found myself facing third degree burns if I didn't get it right I discovered the learning curve to be much lower. Pain appears to be a great motivator in my case. Maybe the only thing stopping me from being a nuclear particle physicist is that there's no threat of bodily harm?

Handy workplace tip: never be the only person that knows how to do a specific task, unless you want to spend your days fielding emails from panic stricken co-workers unable to plasticize grammar posters and flash cards.

I Should Have Spent the Weekend in Bed

Sooo... the weekend didn't turn out exactly as I had planned. We didn't ice skate, or go to a bar, or do any of the things I so blithely told you I would be doing. Other than watch the football game, (which I am not even going to get into - waste of four hours of my life that I will never get back, only for Tom Brady to turn it over in the last 30 seconds of the game). Right, where was I? Oh yes- non-football related items.

Friday night we opted against the ice skating. Really, the Arctic temperatures and wind chill factor decided for us, but we will eventually make it to the Frog Pond because it is a Winter in Boston staple. Instead I drove out to Burlington to meet my man at the Flatbread Pizza place for some organic food action. The waitresses there all seemed really happy, probably because they were all dirty hippies getting stoned and staring into the giant brick oven fire and eating pizza. In any case it was a delicious and laid-back meal. We also made a trip to Marshall's for some bedding supplies- you can't get a new bed without having new sheets to go with it! So we found some luxurious 600 thread count sheets that matched my lovely duvet, and off we went, home again, to relax in our posh hotel bed. (Of course, after washing everything and making the bed, it was almost 1 a.m. before we did any relaxing- but oh, so worth it!)

Saturday, the Christopher had to work (boo hiss, we hate his job, evil corporate America), so I tidied up, enjoyed some leisurely reading time, and made the hand-off of my old bed to this doofus. Once Chris got back we had time to do a little shopping and make a quick run over to Trader Joe's before it was time to meet some friends for an Indian dinner and beers. Only, both the TJ's experience and the Indian experience made me want to cry, which is pretty much the opposite of what I was going for this weekend. Being at TJ's on a Saturday evening, the night before a playoff game, was not a brilliant idea- I'll give you that. But this was like people had discovered an impending Zombiepocalypse and went out in droves to stock up on cheap organic goods before they holed up in a mall somewhere. The lines were in the actual aisles of the store. People were shoving each other for free wine samples. I swear I had ideas in my head about what I needed to get there, but once inside I was unable to think about anything other than not smashing my cart into the backs of peoples legs.

We made it out unscathed and scooped up Stephanie and her mister before heading over to Punjab, where we had been promised a meal of unparalleled Indian delight. Not long into our mango lassis, however, I happened to notice that Stephanie was looking decidedly ill, in an "I absolutely will not be able to eat curry" kind of way. We had already ordered, and it took forever to get our meals, but once they came we got them boxed up and dropped Steph off before she could contaminate us with her illness. Hopefully. We ended the night by starting Children of Men and then giving up to the comforts of the pillow top mattress.

Sunday we were pretty excited for parent dinner and football, we had such high hopes. After the first half, we were smugly making fun of Peyton Manning. At the end of the 4th we were sadly making fun of Peyton Manning. And in the end, we were just sad. Even more so when I realized it was 11 p.m. and we still had to drive back to Boston, make my lunch, pick out clothes, set up the coffee for the morning, and fold the clothes that were in the dryer.

It's one of those Mondays when I question the prudence of choosing such an early morning profession.

Wrapping Up Yet Another Week of Excitement

Right now I'd rather be searching etsy for new necklaces, so I'm going to keep this brief.

• It's Friday. That's awesome.
• My new bed has arrived and been set up. Also awesome.
• Happy hour begins at 2:30. Sharp.
  
• C and I are going ice skating tonight. In theory this could be awesome, but I have the feeling it might lean more towards the painful/scary.
  
• We've made Saturday night plans that involve a bar. And possibly other things. But most definitely a bar.
  
• Got an invite to a cd release party at the Middle East- could be great, but it's 9 beans to get in. Add this to the possible list.
  
• It's one of the last football Sundays until September. Since my parents have both the giant tv and the fireplace, I have a feeling we'll end up there at some point. I feel like a slacker- almost everyone in the whole school is dressed in Patriots gear and I just threw on a Columbia sweater this morning. Our secretary even created a Tom Brady shrine in the faculty room. New England fans? One word: crazy.
  

And that's about it for this weekend warrior. Anybody else have exciting plans? Oh, and if there's anyone out there that loves me, they might want to check out this when considering Valentine's Day options. Just sayin'.

Some Family Fun

My father does not call me on the telephone. Nor does he email, text, or in any other way contact me unless there is some malfunction in his otherwise sheltered life. Our conversations are limited to when we actually see each other in person, or his occasional shouts to me in the background while I'm chatting with my mother.

So when I heard his voice on the line as I was navigating rush hour traffic yesterday evening I knew I was in for a long-winded, nerve-wracking saga that would somehow involve a great deal of my time and patience. I choked back my immediate response of "just put Mom on the phone" because although I knew it would likely simplify whatever problem needed to be solved I felt strangely compelled to find out what could be confounding him enough to rouse him out of the daily routine and pick up the telephone. A fatal mistake on my part.

Dad: "So I'm having a little computer problem."
Me: (sighing inwardly) "Ok. What happened?"
Dad: "Oh, no. Nothing happened. You see, I was at work and they want me to go to this training course. In Madison. You know, Wisconsin. So I was talking to the regional manager- he's on vacation right now, but that doesn't really matter- and he said I should talk to the secretary about travel arrangements. So I talked to her, and she said that since the class is on Tuesday at 8 a.m., I'd have to book the flight for Monday. And then she told me to look up flights and see which one I thought I'd want, and I told her I want to be comfortable. So what do I do?"
Me: (inwardly trying to process this diatribe) "Ummm. So you need to book a flight? What's the computer problem?"
Dad: "Well you see, she didn't tell me how to book the flight and your mother refuses to help me." (I hear my mother's blood pressure going up, pulsing over the line)
Me: "So you need a website to go to? Try travelocity. You can look up the dates and different airlines."
Dad: (long pause) "Ok."
Me: "Ok, are you there?"
Dad: "Yes. No. Wait. No. I type slowly."
Me: "Ok, are you there now?"
Dad: "No. I'm not at the computer."
Me: (!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) "Dad! Do it now, while I'm on the phone with you!"
Dad: "Why don't you call me back when you get in?"
Me: "Just do it! I'm not calling you back and going through this again. Are you at the website?"
Dad: "No. My manager's on vacation, you know? But he said he doesn't care if the flight is expensive, I just need to get there. For this class. And I want a direct flight. From Manchester."
Me: (clenching my jaw) "Yeah, you said that. Dad, go to travelocity dot com. There won't be direct flights from Manchester to Madison, you'd have to go out of Boston for that."
Dad: "How do you know? You don't know."
Me: "Yes. I do know. Remember when I worked there for a year?"
Dad: "Oh. Yeah. So I have to leave on Monday to get there for Tuesday?"
Me: "Dad!!!!!!! Seriously, you're going to give me a heart atta---"
Mom: (I hear much shoving, scraping, and swearing) "Ok, your father is gone. What do I do?"

Two minutes later my father had the information he needed, printed out, with different airlines, times, and prices. I had a stress fracture in my jaw from grinding my teeth and a throbbing headache. Seriously, it worries me that a 53 year old man is not only incapable of making travel arrangements for himself, but is also unable to follow directions. He's not a stupid man, he just has a severe lack of common sense. I blame either the "simple New Hampshire life" or adult onset ADD. Either way, it made me remember why I was ok with the twice yearly phone calls.

Catching Some Zzzzs

I may have mentioned this once or twice, but I just wanted to reiterate my feelings in case there are any new readers out there, or anyone who still doubts my sincerity: I hate Ikea.

Yes, my apartment is furnished in large part in their do-it-yourself modern Euro style. Yes, they are ridiculously cheap and sometimes have deals you wouldn't find elsewhere. Unfortunately, I've found that I dislike feeling that little part of my soul die off every time I obsessively check those warehouse tags to make sure I have the necessary 67 boxes of components for my furniture. I dislike having to convince myself it's no big deal, that in fact it's rather noble, to put together your own coffee table... and then breaking into tears 6 hours later. I'd rather not feel like some kind of common Scandinavia-whore who can't be bothered to buy furniture that's already assembled and have it delivered to my place like a normal person.

Anyway, the real reason behind this tirade lies in the recent past. Think back a few months when C and I thought it wise to buy a mattress from the Ikea. Why, we didn't even need to assemble it! You may also recall that we returned it a week later, in large part due to the fact that it was like sleeping on a sack full of lingonberry jam. And so, rather than be bedless and have to camp out on the hardwood floors, we shoved my old full set into the queen sized frame and promised ourselves we would buy a new bed soon.

Cut to today, two months later. Every morning Chris has to vault out of bed, over the foot wide gap in the sides to avoid smashing his shins on the too-large bed frame. My side of the mattress hangs precariously over the edge of the box spring with nothing preventing it from sliding down into the frame. Sounds comfortable, yes? Well guess what?

Our new mattress is coming FRIDAY! It's going to be so good. And we don't even have to spend an hour tying it to the top of C's Element, some lovely mover people are going to deposit it right into our bed frame for us while we watch them labor. Oh, the wonders of NotIkea.

Note to anyone I had plans with this weekend: they're cancelled. I have a date with a bed.

Ice? What Ice? We Don't See Any....Oops.

Although the state of Massachusetts is covered in a beautiful layer of ice and most of the teachers in the state are still lying comfortably in their beds, I am here. I am here, and I've been spending the last hour debating prices on things like book glue, polyester book covers, spine label protectors, and adhesive remover. It's a task only a librarian could love.

I suppose I probably shouldn't complain about not having off today since I did get to celebrate Martin Luther King's dream yesterday by shopping on Newbury Street and lunch in Kenmore.

It's just that it's so... icy. And cold. And wet. I thought we had decided we were done with the whole "having a winter" thing?

The long weekend was pretty decent, despite being shut down when we tried to go to the Museum of Science (I read the times wrong on their website- apparently they close at 5 p.m. What kind of museum closes at 5 p.m. on a weekend?!) Instead we ended up heading down to Harvard Square to see the new Guillermo del Toro movie Pan's Labyrinth which was both scary as hell and dismally depressing. A nice Saturday evening pick-me-up. It is also subtitled; we happened to choose the seats directly behind the gentleman with the largest head in the movie theater, who also happened to be unable to remain still for more than 35 seconds. It meant a bit of shifting about (and by a bit I mean a solid two-hour stretch of bobbing our heads left and right) to catch what was being said; I was thankful I'm a quick reader. We also watched a nail-biting football game by the fire with the parentals and did some cleaning house.

How would you like this thing chasing you around your dreams?

And onwards to the working week! I am so ready to kick some ass. Right after a little nap.

This Is Your Last Chance... Ever

It's the very last day of De-lurking Week so bring your A game, people. Leave me some comments or forever hold your peace. (Kidding, but seriously... I know you're out there. Not leaving a comment is like stealing. Stealing happiness, from me. You wouldn't want that, now would you?)

Plus, I've had a pretty crappy day, so it would really make me feel a bit better to hear from you all. First thing this morning I had some brilliant kiddos shoving each other until they shoved each other right into a bookshelf, knocking an entire ceiling-length shelving unit and all its books to the ground and narrowly missing the skulls of a group of girls engrossed in their video ipods. A lovely way to start the day. (And a bonus of detention paperwork and three boys to clean my library during their lunch periods.)

Then I dealt with a substitute for the music teacher who is clearly half-retarded, as evidenced by the fact that I was unable to go 10 minutes without him sending a student down saying things like, "Our substitute doesn't know how to start the movie" (I went down and pressed PLAY for him), or "Our substitute doesn't know how to stop the movie" (I went down and pressed STOP). The best was when he sent a student to me to say: "Our substitute wants to know how to play the keyboards." Oh, really? Well so do I, why don't we sign up for lessons together? Please stop being an idiot, sir, it's really making me crazy. And your lisp isn't helping matters any.

I also realized when I was halfway to school that I had forgotten my lovely aloe tissues at home and so I've been using the sandpaper paper towels the school provides because there is apparently no money in the budget for real tissues. My poor nose is not very happy with me.

Fortunately, it's Friday. And it's a long weekend. So I will have time to chill out before I have to return to Crazy Land on Tuesday. I think a long sleep and perhaps a few too many adult beverages will go a long way to making me feel better. Plus, C and I are planning an excursion to the Museum of Science- hooray, astronaut ice cream!

Movie Manic

Due largely to the combination of a gift subscription to Netflix, having OnDemand cable, and having a piratical boyfriend, I have watched an inordinate number of movies in the past two months. I would estimate that 90% of those movies have been enjoyable, with the occasional fluke thrown in (most of the flukes coming from the free OnDemand movies offered by Comcast; i.e. My Best Friend is a Vampire and Teen Wolf Too*). On the whole though, I've found myself eagerly scanning the Netflix Friends Queues to see what they recommend and I've been pleased with the results. Until last night, when I was suddenly freaked out by this thought:

The last three movies in a row were all Paul Giamatti films.

How could this be? I don't even particularly like Mr. Giamatti- I found Sideways to be dismally depressing (although pretty in it's concept), and c'mon now, he was in Big Momma's House. 'Nuff said.

And yet the fates aligned to bring me three of his films in a line-up: The Illusionist (pirated-style), The Lady in the Water (Netflix), and Cinderella Man (Encore OnDemand). So what gives? Is it that I'm destined to someday meet Mr. Giamatti and be forced to discuss his films at length? Will he see me from a distance, quietly cataloging books, silhouetted in the library windows at dawn as the pink skies crest overhead, and fall madly in love with me? Because seriously, if this is just coincidence it's a little much, even for me.

I'm checking my Netflix queue right now to make sure he's not in any of the movies to come...

Because there's no way I'm marrying that dude, he's way too strange.




Oh, and don't forget:

*Yes, that's how they spell it. Horrid, I know, but I didn't make it up. Oh, and in case you were wondering:
The Illusionist: enjoyable
Lady in the Water: interestingly boring
Cinderella Man: meh- wasn't in the mood for it

Sickly Randomness

I've felt a sick day coming on for a while now; what with Chris being a stuffed up mess for over a week it was only a matter of time before his illness became my illness. And finally, this morning, I woke up to a massive headache and a nose that felt like someone had stuffed tissues all the way up into my brain. So I find myself sitting on my couch, waiting for the tell-tale sound of the mailman dropping Netflix movies into the mail slot and fooling around with the Pandora site.

Anyway, rather than tax my poor brain that's already addled with cold medicine and coffee, I figured I'd bring up a couple of random things and hope that you don't notice that I'm unable to concentrate on anything for more than 90 seconds at a time take pity on a stuffy, whiny girl.

First, I thought it worth mentioning again that it's National De-lurker Week. My readers stepped it up yesterday; it's good to know my statcounter doesn't lie and that I do have people out there reading. Cheers to you!

Second, I was just looking at the picture in my last post and it struck me as funny that they show a dude who is clearly at work (the ugly Marshall's shirt&tie in a box, the standard gray cubicles, the sad little PC), who is supposed to be leaving blog comments at work. What struck me as funny is just how normal that seems- why of course someone would be leaving comments at work, you wouldn't expect them to do it from home, would you? Work is no longer for working, it's for reading blogs. And news. And Photoshopping pictures of your friends into ridiculous and somewhat incriminating situations. And rearranging your Netflix queue.

Oh, America. How I love your work ethic.

Third, I hope everyone is having a lovely day, at work or not. And that's all for me, I have to go back to bed. Tomorrow, people, is another day. Or so they say.

National De-Lurker Week

Hey! Did you know that this week is the National Blog De-lurker Week? No? Well now you do! January 8-12 is the time for all you blog stalkers to reveal yourselves in a Scooby-Doo, villain-unmasking way.

So if you've never commented here but you read this little narrative segment of the blogosphere, I would both appreciate and love some feedback. Leave me some sugar. Leave me some hate mail. Ask me some questions. Something. Anything! And if you are a regular (or semi-regular commenter), I still want to hear from you; I need a reason to check the innernets 400 times daily or my life seems incomplete. The internet is like crack, only totally addictive.

Tell Me Again Why I Don't Work For Ikea?

Hold the press, folks. I have found a couch. And a coffee table, and end tables, and even a tv stand! Wait, what? What's that you ask? How could I have already found so much stuff? Why, the wondrous nightmare that is Ikea, of course! Yes, it's true. We fearlessly (albeit crankily) braved the Ikea Winter Sale this past weekend when it was 75 degrees outside (in January, in Boston) and managed to escape with not only our lives, but with some DIY furniture.

It's even set up.

In my living room.

And semi-decorated. With pillows and such!

I know, right?!

So, since I managed to cross #6 off my New Year's resolutions so quickly, I figured I'd go the extra mile and add a new one:

6. (Revised) To never step foot in Ikea for the rest of 2007.

Man, it feels good to be so awesomely productive.

If Only I Could Get This Excited

And I wonder why people are afraid of librarians?

I sure hope I never meet this girl at a conference- wouldn't that be awkward? "So nice to meet you! Say, didn't I see you straddling a book cart on the cover of a magazine recently? Good one."

What, Now?

I got tagged to do this Thursday Thirteen thingy on Monday, but had to wait until today to pull it off, as today is Thursday and it wouldn't have made sense for me to write a Thursday Thirteen on a Monday. You follow?



Thirteen Things about NancyPearlWannabe's 2007 Resolutions 1. To find a new gym that doesn't charge exorbitant rates and/or require to you to sign a 12 year agreement in your own blood, with a termination fee of death by being drawn and quartered by treadmills. 2. To not rush through everything so quickly that I feel as though I don't get the best experience possible. This is a tough one when your work day is so segmented into 45 minute blocks of time; it tends to carry over into every day life. Like, quick! You only have 22 minutes to eat dinner and get on with things! Move it! 3. To catch more live music. I live in a city that's known for amazing shows and I am not utilizing this to it's fullest potential. Local indie bands, here I come! 4. To beat YYZ in expert mode on Guitar Hero. 5. To make it out of the country at least once. I'd love to get back to England to see my family, but there's just so much out there I want to see. 6. To find and purchase a couch and tables that don't look like college dorm furniture. 7. To spend more time with Chris, my friends, and my family. 8. To stop comparing myself to other people. I'm smart, accomplished, occasionally funny, and not too bad on the eyes. What more do I need? If I looked like Scarlett Johansen then I'd probably find something else to compare with others so the sooner I start reconciling with myself, the better. That being said, I wouldn't mind having as much money as Scarlett. 9. To make more money. And to save some of it. Yes, having three months off during the summer was fantastic, but there's no real reason I can't find something part-time to do to supplement my teaching salary. 10. To start paying all my bills online. I'm really tired of buying stamps, especially when I get stuck at the USPS window with the postal worker lady who enjoys discussing how painful her UTI is when she pees. 11. To take more classes. I've actually been pretty good about this, but this year I've also resolved to take some classes over the summer. The more credits I have under my belt, the more money I take home. And hey, they're free. 12. To learn how to cook more foods from my ethnicity. Someone has to carry on the legacy of deliciousness, it may as well be me. And I can't depend on my mother to make me squash patties forever, can I? 13. To write more often, and to work harder on getting my children's book published.


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A Shot Gun Start

This librarian is ready for a serious nap.

Much like this past summer, I somehow went way off track with my sleep patterns over the winter break. In retrospect, sleeping till noon probably didn't help make my life any easier when I then had to return to waking up pre-sunlight. And keeping late night hours all last week kept me from falling asleep until around midnight, despite my best efforts to wear myself out and my stubborn refusal to nap. The result? One cranky lady.

So rather than sit around dreaming about my bed and imagining how comfortable I'll be when I succumb to nap time this afternoon, I'll give you a little overview of my fantastic week of non-work. Christmas Eve and Christmas Day were predictably lovely, filled with family and loved ones and presents. By the time Tuesday rolled around, I was very ready for some alone time and spent all of Tuesday (and Wednesday) in seclusion, watching Netflix movies and hanging around in my pajamas. Thursday I broke my vow of solitude when we left for a weekend getaway to the great state of New York. The drive seemed especially long, probably due to our brilliant idea to try to stop at the Saranac Brewery in Utica. And by brilliant, I mean foolish.

At the beginning of our adventure I came up with the slogan "Utica is Beautica" because I figured hey, if Ithaca is Gorges then Utica deserved some love too. I am going on the record here to inform you that Utica is, in fact, anything but Beautica. We ended up lost in U-Turnica for an hour, driving around some highway through a downtown area that looked suspiciously like a war-torn Flint, Michigan. When we finally, finally arrived, we were told that Saranac only provides tours on Fridays and Saturdays, at 1 and 3. Since it was neither Friday, Saturday, 1, nor 3, we were pretty much S.O.L. We bought a case of beer for our trouble and hightailed it out of there, exclaiming with pleasure over how pretty the dark, empty Thruway looked after being in downtown Utica for 60 minutes.

That lost hour did nothing to diminish the fun we had in Rochester, though. We caught up with people I hadn't seen since the summer, ate some delicious meals, and had a generally relaxing and pleasurable time. We even threw a little New Year's Eve soiree at which a good time was had by all. (Except for Fran, who was bored to tears by our competitive Mario Kart races on the numerous DS devices. But even she had to admit to some fun-having as the countdown neared and Dick Clark mumbled incoherently about balls!)

And then, abruptly, the fun was over. We drove back to Boston without incident, in the gloomy rain, unpacked as much stuff as we could muster the energy for, and fell asleep to start the working days all over again. Is it wrong that I'm already counting the days until February break?

Ringing It In

Happy 2007!

I'm going to go out on a limb here and say that 2006 was a pretty damn great year. Sure, there were some minor issues along the way. There were also great things happening, and really I can only see things looking up from here. I mean, this time last year I had never even heard of Dinosaur BBQ- what's next, BBQ Heaven?

Anyway, I have tons to tell you about my extended 10 day vacation but I think a little '06 recap is in order first:

• Foremost in '06, I met Chris. Sure, dating someone who lives 6 hours away was trying at times, but he was totally worth it. And now he's here! In Boston! With me! What could be better than that?
• I shed a few old friends who weren't pulling their weight, and made a ton of new ones.
  
• I learned that Rochester, NY has some great people, some fun things to do, and is pleasurable to drive around. I also learned that you should never get stuck in Central NY on the way out to Rochester, if you can help it- unless you have a season pass to visit the Museum of Petrified Creatures.
• One cousin got married, another had a baby, I became a godmother. It all happened so fast!
• I finished my first full year in a school district and signed on for another. I discovered that not only did I not waste my time getting a Master's, but that I actually love what I do. Plus, hello: the kids are hilarious.
• Two words: summer vacation.
• I moved twice- once with roommates, once with Christopher. Living with C is a hundred million times better than living with roommates.
  
• My first and second trips to Canada were both in 2006.
• I made more trips to Ikea in one year than the rest of my 27 years combined.
  
• I wrote quite a few posts (I even made it through the 30 posts in 30 days of November), met a lot of new blog peoples, and had quite a few laughs (mostly at my own expense).
  

You have a lot to live up to, 2007. Let's get to it.