Why I'm Still Smiling

I found out three weeks ago that I'd be losing my job.  The job that I took so we would have some security. The job that isn't what I wanted but what is what would allow us to settle nicely in our community, buy a little house and live our little lives. She didn't want to tell me alone so she had one of the deans come with her. I think she took it harder than I did. Seriously, bless her heart.

Sent this to my boss the other day when I was working from home. :)

I hate it when my plans are interrupted.  Of course, I've been down this particular road four times in the last two years at the same university.  The reason this time: funding cuts. Well, that's the first reason. The second reason is politics and truly, the budget cut wasn't about me or anything I have or haven't done. The university is overall sort of graceless, with some really nice, kind and loyal people interspersed throughout.  But mostly, they just don't have their stuff together.

I was offered another job- one that I helped create when I was on a committee this spring.  I'm pretty proud of my work on that committee too. And it was a great compliment to me that the job description was lifted directly from the report that I wrote (with credit too).  But ultimately, it's not what I want to do at this stage of my life. So I said no. G put it nicely. He said that it was time for me to recognize that while this is a nice place, I'm in a bad professional relationship and it's time to break up.  I agree.

So we're looking at packing and moving again.  I am tired of instability and I'm tired of feeling as though I am employed at the whim of people who do not know me, nor care one way or another about the predicament they leave me in.  I don't trust my university anymore.  I have a signed contract- guaranteeing me employment- and it did no good. That's all I'm going to say about it because I don't want to go down a bitter path.  Instead, G and I have decided that we'll take time and do a national job search. There isn't any place that's off limits, though we're more excited by Northern, cold climates than boiling Southern ones.  Like I said though, nothing is out of consideration.

I have a back up plan to teach full time at the university this next year while I look for something more suitable, so we're ok there.  The English department has been fantastic, absolutely fantastic.

So I'm still smiling. The weather is great- not too hot and not too cold.  Eleanor the kitty is in great health and seems to be more feisty every day, and G and I are both in good health.  Heck, everyone in our family is right now.  That may not seem like a big deal but to me it is.

Oh, and we had our second wedding anniversary a few weeks ago.  It was fun and we went hiking and even took a trip to Seattle to see the museum. G visited Trader Joes for the first time and we shopped till we dropped. It was a great day.

I'll keep you posted on the job situation. I haven't mentioned it to many people because I'm not in shock and I'm not really worried, just intent on doing the right thing.

The Move

We have been in Ellensburg for a couple of days now, and I am still trying to catch up on exactly what day of the week it is.  It was a long trip, but we arrived safely.

The day before we moved, I cleaned the everloving hell out of his apartment.  It doesn't matter how long someone has lived in a home, cleaning when you move out is disgusting.  I scoured showers and mopped floors and cleaned the rugs, ceilings and baseboards.  The cabinets got a wipe down and the pantry was the recipient of a very tired once-over.  I felt bad, but there was a lot of stuff that couldn't go with us.  There just wasn't any room. Everything we could take with us had already gone to Norman in a truck and everything we could take would just have to fit in Grey's Hyundai. 

One thing I really like about Grey living in an apartment complex is that whenever I took an item (which I cleaned) to the dumpster, I would put a note on it like "free" or "works" or something like that and within an hour, someone would claim it for their own.  So the vacuum, kitchen table and bookshelves, a television, humidifier and a bunch of records all found a place to be that wasn't a landfill.  And my yoga mat.  The yoga mat hurt the most. 

Grey worked most of that day, then went to get the car serviced for the trip.  We had planned to get out of Tulsa and head for Norman early in the afternoon, but the car service was backed up and we didn't leave until almost 7 that night.  We didn't have time to pick up the trailer that night, but decided to go first thing in the morning as the store opened at 7 am.

I had experimented with medicating Eleanor.  I called my veterinarian for advice and he gave me some ideas beyond prescription medications.  Our first attempt at calming her down for car trips between Tulsa and Norman had no effect.  The natural kitty calm down stuff had no effect except perhaps to piss her off at the thought of having to take medicine she doesn't like.  I tried Benadryl next.  The liquid stuff made her foam at the mouth so on the next trip, I gave her half a pill.  The pill not only made her foam at the mouth, but she also threw up multiple times in Grey's nice new car.  One of the times she threw up (I caught it because I don't want it to get on his car) she puked so hard she also pooped on me.  Poor, poor kitty.  That was a tense, stinky ride.  I started to despair.  We tried just keeping her in her carrier.  She urinated.  Twice. I called my vet and he gave me acepromazine.  It's an antidepressant which mostly makes her sleepy enough that she doesn't care what's going on around her.  And this did the trick.  Once I figured out her dose, I learned her routine and made sure that she slept at my feet- where it was cool and where she couldn't see out the windows to freak out- for the majority of the trip. 

We got a late start on the first day. The Uhaul place didn't have the tow bar thingy that we needed, so we had to go to Autozone to get one.  For what it's worth, I absolutely detest going into a parts store.  They treat women like idiots and it usually takes me 10 minutes to get someone to listen to what I actually need.  As I was in a hurry, I dispensed with the charm and five minutes later, the dazed store manager got us what we needed and even put it on the car for me.  I sort of feel sorry for him, and I think that Grey gained some linguistic respect for my waspish tongue.  Anyway, we got the trailer, threw what was left of our meager possessions in the back, drugged the hell out of the cat and left by 11 in the morning. 

The whole trip took 4 days and it went like this:  At 55 miles per hour, we passed almost nobody.  People sped by and looked at us funny, since a 4-cylinder car should perhaps not be towing a trailer up and down the interstate and over hills.  Every single pull-through scraped the trailer on the ground.  We switched off driving and got used to turning with twice our regular length behind us.  On the mountain passes, where elevation was up to 6,300 feet, we often traveled with the air conditioner off and at 40 miles per hour.  We went through Kansas, West to Denver, then North to Buffalo and through Montana. Then over one more mountain pass in Idaho and home to Washington.  We learned that signs pointing out "chain up" areas meant that a 5-7% grade incline was coming up.  We slowed down and rooted for our car, Silver, to make it over the pass, praising lavishly at the crest of the hill. It became our favorite game. With that and the funny voice that Grey does for Eleanor (he sounds suspiciously like Edith from All in the Family), the trip was on the balance, not such a bad thing.

My hips and back started to hurt. I would sit for hours at a time and only get out to pump gas or run into to a rest stop.  To be sure, I would run, stretch and otherwise try to get blood flow going in those brief moments but it became somewhat grueling to just sit down.  Thank goodness that Grey didn't mind stopping frequently.  Well, he minded, but he did it without complaining.

Missoula, Montana was the highlight of the trip.  It was our last night and we had been on the road for three days.  Besides the breakfasts included in the hotels (thanks to Grey's wonderful pre-planning and reservations), there hadn't been a sit-down meal for the duration.  After driving over the stark beauty of the continental divide and testing out the strength of the car's engine, we were ready for a break. We checked in to the hotel (I highly recommend Ruby's in Missoula) and headed to a place in one of Grey's travel books called "Silk Road".  It's a tapas bar with international food.  You can also buy some of the spices.  We had Moroccan tapas, Mediterranean, Ethiopian.. oh it was good.  For road-weary travelers, hunger added its own flavor.  The people next to us were a young English major and her paramour.  She kept him in thrall with her plans to move to New York and maybe just get a crummy job doing copy editing for The New Yorker magazine while she waits for a book deal or some other such nonsense.  In the meantime, she encouraged the young man to just take a test to become an English teacher since it's a pretty simple job.

Good lord, we were also held in thrall!

The food was out of this world.  I thought I had died and gone to heaven when they brought us the cheese plate.  There was this cave-aged smoked Gouda that just sort of melted in my mouth. They only brought two slices of that so as I ate half of mine, I eyed Grey's.  He wisely guarded it as he tasted the Camembert.  There was a vegetarian stew with dates and eggplant and a fried ravioli with pesto sauce.  Delicious!  Like I said, we were tired and hungry and grateful not to be in a moving vehicle. 

Finally, after seven hours of driving the next day, crossing two time zones and several mountain ranges, we pulled into Ellensburg, Washington.  An idyllic little town of about 30,000 people, it is surrounded on all sides by small and large mountain ranges.  There is little wind despite the claims of the townspeople and plenty of sunshine.  Our house, a duplex of which the other side is the property management office, is a turn of the century two story Victorian with no air conditioning, is charming.  the town is charming and life here is.. charming. 

But more on that later.  For now, we walk to the grocery store, the university and the downtown area.  We have an upstairs and are settling in, ordering some furniture and trying to figure out how two grown-ass people used to having free reign of the house suddenly having to share and compromise.  So much more to do...

The Mighty Eleanor

Our New Digs

Everything We Own In The World

...and so many other adventures!

The New Plan

I woke up early this morning with my brain racing. It's been doing that a lot lately, clocking overtime while the rest of me really could just use a long nap.  It's tiring to wake up at 3:30 and not be able to get back to sleep.  I have had many bouts of insomnia in my life.  I have been to grad school. Actually I think those two statements are redundant.  Anyone who goes for post-baccalaureate education loses sleep.  So does every parent in the world and everyone who has a lot on their plate dealing with the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune.

So this particular morning, I woke up promptly at 6.  Please don't think for a moment that 6 a.m. is a time for me.  Six in the morning is a concept, not a reality and I haven't seen that time in person for a couple of years.  Unless I am still awake from all night activities, in which case it's a totally different 6 a.m. than what normal folk would experience.  Last night when I went to sleep, I wrote out a list of all the things I had to do today.  This morning, I added even more things.

I can't help it; my brain spins like a tornado.  I think I have all the corners of sleep nailed down, smoothed over and in place like a blanket.  I have done everything I could the previous day and accomplished my tasks.  Yesterday, I went through most of my house on a purging tear and threw out eight trash bags of stuff we just don't need. Lots of it will be donated, have no fear.  I also had listed some items on Craigslist and sold both my lawnmower and futon couch.  My dear, dear Charlotte came over yesterday too, to help keep me on track.  I'd hold something questionable up, some item that I may or may not need or want. She'd say "Get rid of it!!" and off it would go. One of my friends took a bunch of items off my hands and I was able to give my beautiful dining room table to a sweet family with two little girls who will love it and take care of it. I even sold my car yesterday and will be catching a bus to Tulsa this afternoon to get home.  But my brain doesn't want rest, it wants everything to be in the correct place and in the right box.  It wants all decisions made, conversations had, bills paid and floors swept.  It wants to be creative, to write and sing and dance in the shadows.  It goes into overdrive whenever I have a lot to do and little time to do it.

This week's over-scheduling is because of a text conversation I had with my sister, Patti.  I was whining about how expensive the move is going to be because we decided to use a moving company.  She asked if a Uhaul might not be a better solution.  I said no, because my husband is uncomfortable with me following him in a truck and that he was even more uncomfortable with the idea of pulling his car behind a truck.  We figured out how to keep Eleanor happy- I have dosed her with medicine from the veterinarian which keeps her sufficiently loopy and quiet for about 8 hours.  On our nightly walk, I mentioned the text conversation to him, and he decided to reconsider.

No! I had it set in my mind. We had planned a course of action.  Granted, an expensive course of action, but still.  I had everything packed and the movers would come in three days. It was set in stone.

But like many things set in stone, we decided to etch out a new course.  "It's just stuff", he said.  "We'll get more stuff".

Ok.

New plan.

Because that's what you do when you suddenly and jarringly change course. You make a plan.  You stay nimble and courageous and don't panic.  This is not the end of the world. It's just the end of life here in Oklahoma.  A life that I won't be taking with me to Washington.  It's not the original plan, but it's a good compromise. And I married a man with a great sense of equanimity, and a nimble ability to adapt

We pared down our belongings to fit them into a little 4x8 Uhaul pull-along trailer.  I will send my books by media mail and we will sell what we can.  What we can't, Cathy and Chuck will dispose of either in a garage sale or by donation.  I'm going to ship Grey's records too.  It's a good plan.  We will take four days for travel and arrive at our destination like a turtle with our tiny home on our back. Ok, make that a two-person-one-kitty turtle.  You get the idea.

I have a lot of stuff to do and little time to do it.  So my tornado, I mean my brain, woke me up. And what am I doing? Writing.  Compromise.  Writing and making a list of things to do.  Grey and I are....sort of enjoying the whole move. I certainly have a greater appreciation for him, and he has learned about my elite packing skillz.  These lead to my elite "getting rid of stuff" skillz.

I no longer have a table, couch or place to sleep for the next week.  As my Grandma used to say "They don't have a pot to piss in or a window to throw it out of."  What I do have is support, love and understanding.  Everything I need that doesn't fit into a box.

Alright brain, let's kick this into gear.

Animals and Geography

I have been thinking a lot lately of my little old kitty, Eleanor.

It's a trap.  She's going to grab my hand when I pet her.

One would think at the ripe age of 16 she would be dead.  Or incapacitated or frail or somehow mostly dead.

One would be wrong.  She takes medicines twice daily and has learned that when Grey is going to pill her, it behooves her to act cute and maybe purr him up in an effort to get him to not giver her that pill.  In fact, she has quickly learned how to get on his good side, his bad side and that sometimes he will spoil her (if I am not around) by putting her up on top of a book shelf.  She loves to be up high and will forgive almost anything when she is up there.  In turn, Grey has learned that Eleanor is pretty smart for an old cookie. That he can train her for certain actions, like teaching her some manners about sleeping beside his head.

Yes, apparently when I'm not around, she sleeps by him now. Quite adorable for a man who is allergic to almost every cat he has ever met.  Eleanor is only the second cat he has met that he isn't allergic to. Out of respect for my wonderful husband, who has made this effort because he loves me, I will not post pictures.

Do I look like I'd barf on you? 

But it is hilarious.

Anyway, Eleanor has presented me with a challenge.  In 2008, when I moved back to Oklahoma, I promised, promised, promised my little kitty (she was only 12 then) that we wouldn't move across the country again if she would just live through the trip.  I guess I lied, since we are set to once again make the trip to Washington.  During our frequent trips back and forth between Norman and Tulsa, we have been taking Eleanor with us as necessary.  She has apparently gotten much older these last few years as she tummy, bladder and other parts aren't faring well in the car.  I tried letting her out of her carrier, keeping her in the carrier, giving her some calm down remedy and giving her benadryl.

She had a bad reaction to the benadryl.  Really bad. Everything that can come out of a cat, came exploding out of the cat.  Onto me.  So I talked to my vet and he gave me a prescription for her for amitryptilene.  Amitryptilene is actually an antidepressant and so should alleviate her anxiety and/or make her sleep through the trip.  I'm hoping for sleep because she meows all the way there and back.  She didn't use to do this.  She used to sit in the passenger seat, sleeping or looking out the window.  Sometimes she would sing along to the music on the radio.

Grey and I are both anxious about her ability to survive this trip.  For his end, he has mapped out a 4 day, three night driving course to take us on a scenic trip from Oklahoma to Washington through Montana.  It's beautiful and I have driven this way several times.  But I usually make it in two days, whereas Grey has given us 4.  He is making hotel reservations!  This boggles my mind as I just drive until I can't keep my eyes open and then either sleep at a rest stop or find a motel to crash in for a couple of hours.  His way will be much gentler on our poor little kitty.  My job is to keep her sedated.

I went over a contingency plan with Grey last night: If for some reason Eleanor croaks on the road, I'm buying a travel cooler and some ice so that I can take her with us and have her cremated.  Yes, gross.  I know.  But I'm not leaving my cat in a dumpster in Missoula. Like any sane and normal person, Grey's eyes got that "You must be joking" look to them.  Then when he realized that I'm serious, he got that "You aren't joking.  Ewwwww" look.  "Ok."  That's all he said.  Let's hope that she makes it.

He loves snow

In other animal-related news, my awesome and amazing dog, Big, has gone to a new home.  He was graciously taken in by a family I know.  My friend Moon, who was the one who introduced Grey and I, and his wife now own a Norwegian Elkhound/Wolf mix.  Big joins a couple of other dogs, a few cats and four kids.  They are happy to have him and even their youngest son can walk him on leash.  Yeah, Big is a big gentle baby.  The Ingletts will make sure that he is babied too.

Snow is nice, but it's warmer in the house!

It was a difficult decision to not bring Big with me.  We are renting for the first year while I settle things with the house in Oklahoma.  Renting in a small college town means that it's impossible to find a place in the city limits that will accept a giant breed of dog.  No matter where I looked, I ran into the same problem.  So I did the right thing and found him a home.  Lots of people wanted Big and there were many places he have gone.  He is well trained, happy, sweet, gentle and very, very big and hairy. I am lucky to know so many kind-hearted and willing people.   He will be loved, safe and probably never bored!








In thinking of animals, there are some animals in Oklahoma that I will not miss:

Bark Scorpions are venomous.  And creepy!

Cicadas make a soothing sound in the trees but they look scary.

If you ever wondered how to get rid of scorpions, click here!

Nothing really wrong with June Bugs, but they have terrible navigation and tend to fly in to people.  I also found one in my bed a couple of years ago. 

There is one animal that I will greatly miss in Oklahoma: 

Lightning Bugs are the most beautiful sight on spring and summer evenings.

I didn't include a picture of chiggers, even though I know they are one of the most pesky of pesky Oklahoma critters.  Somehow, in my 13 years of life in Oklahoma, I have NEVER been bitten by one.  They are pretty yucky, burrowing into the skin and laying eggs.  The eggs die because people are unfit hosts, but the wounds left are itchy for weeks.  I have a friend who had to have prednisone after a hike with me.  He was itchy for weeks and still has scars on his legs from that excursion.  

While Washington state does not have to deal with all those flying and biting things, we still have rattlesnakes and fleas to contend with.  And bigger things that can eat you or your old kitty, like bears and coyotes.  

I'll keep you updated on Central Washington.  It will be a new experience for me too, since I have lived on either the extreme West coast or the eastern part, but never in the middle.  I'll take lots of pictures and hopefully give an idea of what we will deal with out there.  Can't be that bad, right?  Less than 150 miles to Seattle, over by a ski area and a mountain pass? 

What's the worst that could happen?

Sneaky/Happy

I am certain that I mentioned before that I am not a good negotiator.  My husband learned this when we agreed that a certain Friday would be the last day that we would be able to accept an offer from the university.  Then I never communicated that date to them and I didn't get the contract.  My philosophy is that people will do what's right and that they are doing the best they can.

So Grey gave me (and them) an extension until Wednesday.  I communicated this with everything but a bullhorn.  I went behind someone's back.  I cajoled and wheedled.  Wednesday came; Wednesday went.  No contract.  Thursday morning I got the first of the two contracts.  Friday at 4:30, after I posted my blog, I found the second contract in my inbox.

I was so sad.  We'd discussed it.  We had decided.  End of story.  I thought that perhaps it couldn't hurt to forward the contract to him at work and see what he thought.  In the meantime, I was looking forward to some other neat opportunities in Oklahoma at two of the state colleges.  C'mon, I'm a Ph.D.  I can find something relatively easily.  Gulp.  With insurance.  And benefits. That pays ok. As a teacher.  Shoooooooo!

Besides, we already decided a course of action, right?  NO way to change our minds, right?  Stay in comfy, cushy Oklahoma with its mild winters and blistering hot can't-breathe-for-2-months heat that depresses me and makes me want to live on a polar ice cap.  That's the plan.  No way I'm asking Grey to reconsider and please may we move to Washington after I'd already secured an extension.

Thoughts swirled through my tornado brain.  If I have never told you about my tornado brain, it's an amazing and efficient machine.  Any event that happens, my brain likes to imagine the worst case scenario, then whip the event around in my head several times and force a scary and difficult outcome wherein I end up living under an overpass with only Eleanor, a shopping cart and a machete.  Depending on how much I wanted what I didn't get, and sometimes depending on how much I wanted what I did get, it doesn't take long for me to get to the shopping cart scenario.  This time?  Five point two seconds.  With broken down house slippers and a mumu. That's a record of some sort.

By the time Grey got home from work around 6:30, I was in a lather.  I would not wouldnotwouldnot ask him to change our plans.  We were heading out for Norman immediately, so we decided to wait and talk on the way.  Time dragged as he packed his things.  I breathed.  I felt a trickle of sweat slide down the hollow part of my back.  My ear itched; I scratched.  I petted the cat.  He forgot something.  I threw everything (including the cat in her carrier) in the back seat and jumped in.

"So."
"Yep."
"You got the contracts?"
"Yep."
"What do you want to do?"
"..."
"Huh?"
"I said that's not fair.  We decided.  I am not asking to change the course of action."
"Oh."  He thought for a moment.
"Well, what do you want to happen?"  I smelled a trap.
"That's not fair.  I want to know what you think too." He smiled. Grey has a regular smile, a 5,000 watt smile and a sly smile.  This was his sly smile.
"Yeah, I'll tell you what I want.  You first."
"I think we already decided.  I think we should stay in Oklahoma."
"But what do you Want?"
"I want to go to Washington."
"Ok. Let's go."
"Whoa buddy. Input first. You can't just make pronouncements without telling me what's on your mind.  I need your thinking."  Again, Grey smiled his sly smile.  The middle of his lips stay put but the corners go up exponentially, creating a deep V that makes his eyes crinkle a little.  It's...fetching. My heart always beats a little faster when he smiles like that.
"I was thinking that giving them a Wednesday deadline was likely to get a contract by Friday."  By Friday?  My brain tornadoes.  Wait. What?  So he..
"Did you play me?"
"Uh, yeah."

He tricked me.  He gave me a Wednesday deadline so that I would become a hard-nosed negotiator because he knew I would be frantic.  Oh! I never!  How.... Effective.  Oh and he lied to me!  I spent almost .03 seconds being mad at being so easy to predict.  Then I realized that we are moving to Washington.

We are moving back to Washington! Yay!

Yay for beaches and mountains and Canada and Seattle and sisters and nieces and nephews and hiking and a blue state!

Looking out from Port Angeles

Quilcene Bay, 2011
On a clear day, you can see forever

Mt. St. Helens

Port Angeles, Washington

Sand Dunes, Port Townsend, Washington

The Hand Your Dealt, or Blaming Entropy Is My Way Of Shirking Responsibility

One of my friends commented that she wished she had my energy. I worked all week at my job, taught at my second, part-time adjunct job, and this morning I worked on my online class. I found time to work out a few times this week and helped a friend move last night.  This afternoon, after I work out, I will begin the revisions to chapter 3 of my dissertation and send them to one of my committee members who is an expert in qualitative research design. But this is not about energy. It's about holding shit together and fighting entropy.

Yes, I'm blaming entropy this week.  I declare that entropy is responsible for my fears that my boobs are going to sag- something which does not keep me up at night but which sometimes nags the back of my head.  I say that entropy is what makes everything break on a house once I have purchased it.  Entropy is responsible for the bill I forgot to pay, the one workout I missed (and therefore the possible expansion of my butt circumference), my decision to not attend an awesome workshop this morning so that I could sleep in for once, the lightning-fast way my kitten has turned into an old lady cat in only 15 years, the loss of offspring because I was too busy to conceive them, forgetfulness in general, laziness, and the need to sleep.  These things are what make the world fall apart and it's entropy's fault.  

I'm using all of my energy to hold body and soul together.  Next week I get to move back into my house.  I have been storing the majority of my stuff and staying here and there for the last three months, but now it's time to go home.  The lease is up and my tenants will move out.  Besides, I am not easy to live with and I'm sure that I will be a much nicer person to everyone once I get back to my own homestead.  My cousin offered to come help me fix any damage and to repaint. I'm not certain if he knows he offered to help repaint but you know.. Anyway, things are pretty good on the homefront. 

I started teaching night classes again last week. I've got an online and an in-person Composition course through my favorite two year college. I'm trying all sorts of new stuff in the online course, using suggestions from past students and technology that I've got available at home.  I do love my iPad 2, though I wish it would be able to send bigger videos. My in-person class had everyone I wanted, from non-traditional to traditional students and from all ages and walks of life.  Very excited about that class because their collective attitude is a positive one. Also, I get to teach right next door and at the same time as my good friend Bonner Slayton.  He was there for my first day of graduate school in 2002 and we have always gotten along so well. Bonner is one of those people who doesn't mind telling me that I'm full of shit and that it's time to rethink what I'm doing when I get all full of myself.  Bonner doesn't mind that I'm arrogant; he just metaphorically smacks me in the head like a big brother ought to. Then I come to my senses and we go on. I'm blaming my own arrogance on entropy too, if you wondered. So life is good there too. 

I met with my advisor this week and he gave me revisions for Chapters 1, 3, and 5.  I'm excited and hope I can defend this semester. He seemed positive. 

In fact, life is good in many ways. I am beginning to really enjoy my students.  They have learned what to expect in my classroom and we hold to the structures.  They are reading independently and I am also reading a book called "Hatchet" with them.  My friend Cathy lent me the classroom set and I already had the audio book, so there we are. It's a book that tends to draw in even the reluctant boys.  Some of my students have already read it and announce that in class.  The others say "Don't tell us what happens!", which I take for a good sign.  In the auditorium, I go to say goodbye to the kids at the end of the day.  I walked in on Wednesday and one of my kids nudged his friend. "Do you have her?" he asked. "Nah". "She's my English teacher.  She's funny".  I had no idea that I was funny.  "Hey!" I said sharply. "Stop ruining my rep!" Without missing a beat, he turned to his friend, put his head down and said "She makes me cry!" 

So the only thing that's still bothersome is the state and district.  I had to take two afternoons off this week and missed my 6th hour class both days.  I love that class. The first afternoon was my competency review for the State of Oklahoma.  I waited for one and a half hours for an interview that took five minutes.  The reviewer asked me why I was even there since I had so much education, training and experience. I had no answer for him.  I sent an email the next day to the Director of Certification to confirm that I had passed and would indeed be a certified teacher.  He confirmed. 

I took that confirmation down to the district office.  We conference-called the Director. The HR department would not accept either written or verbal confirmation so that I could sign a contract.  Why not? Because there is a little box to fill in with a certificate number.  Nevermind anything else, we must fill in a little box.  Without that box, I have no contract, no way of getting paid, no insurance, no legal recourse. 

Yes, I have no way of getting paid. Yes, I have been there since the last two weeks of July. 

The district does not want to put me on as a long-term substitute teacher. First and foremost because it's minimum wage.  Secondly because I could only have 20 working days in the classroom with my students.  Friday was my 20th day.  Still no certificate number from the state. Still no contract. Still not getting paid. I won't get paid on this next payday either.  I probably won't get paid until the middle of September. I have never, in my entire life, had to wait two months to get paid for what I do. This is beyond ridiculous.  I have no idea if they will let me into my classes on Monday. Thank God I have my adjunct job, because otherwise I couldn't pay my mortgage.  Mortgage companies can't eat promises either.  

That last one I do not blame on entropy.  I blame human stupidity... my own.  Why am I putting up with this? Either way, I've dealt my hand for this semester. Most of the cards are good, though I seem to have a 2 of spades and a 4 of diamonds. The only other thing to do is to play it to the best of my ability and hope I come out ahead in the end. 

Scrub

I'm in the middle of moving from Ada to Oklahoma City.  Those cities are roughly 80 miles apart and I've made several trips with the aid of my friend Valerie.  So I've been recovering from food poisoning and still needed to get my mattress and boxspring from the old apartment.  I borrowed an old Ford with the word "Ford" scraped off of the back bumper, windows that don't roll down and some of it's original paint, grabbed Val and her kiddo and made a trip to Ada to collect said bed. I was unwell anyway and hadn't kept anything down for a day or so, so I was a little weak.  Was very glad to drag myself through the shower and stick my hair up in a pony tail.  It's getting long so it probably does look like a pony's tail.  To make a long story short, I was driving down 23rd street last night (a very interesting venture) at 8 last night, trying to return the truck to my friend in Norman.  I had on no make up. I smelled like a dead badger that's been in the sun awhile.  I'm pale anyway so I can only imagine the visage that spoke to the three guys who rolled up next to me in a bombed out Nissan Altima at a stoplight.
"Aaaayyy girl", one guy hollered out the passenger window.
I hate being called girl. I am not a girl. I am a woman. I ignored said holler.
"Aaaayyy girl!"
I looked over.
"Hey, roll down your window."
"It doesn't roll down."
"Well you can hear me. Hey, are you married?"
"Yes, I lied." I looked at the guy closely.  He seemed in his early to mid 20's.
"You ain't wearing a ring." He had me there...
"I gotta wear a ring to be married?  Shoot."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, well you could take my number and see me on the down." He gave me his best interview smile.  I must've looked at him like he was crazy.
The light changed. My truck blew a cloud of smoke and I pulled away, wagging my finger at the kid.
Couldn't help but smile at him and the song suddenly stuck in my head.  "..hanging out the passenger side of his best friend's ride, trying to holler at me."
My 38th birthday is coming in a few weeks.  At this point, it's a compliment.