A penis saved is a penis earned

It's the second to last day of school, and I couldn't be happier. This entire week has basically been glorified babysitting. In fact, part of my lesson yesterday for my 7th grade math class was one simple problem followed by some math games. I proposed the problem to the class, and the first five kids to bring me their answers, along with justification, won prizes. I called the problem "The Million Dollar Challenge," and it goes like this:

Which would you rather receive?

a) one million dollars, or

b) a penny on January first, and then double that amount every day for a month. (i.e. 2 pennies on January 2nd, 4 pennies on January 3rd, 8 pennies on January 4th, etc...)

If the kids do the math properly, they should end up with something like 10 million dollars on the last day of the month, and most of them were getting answers to that effect.

In my last class of the day, I had a kid come up to me and show me his work, wanting to know if he had earned a prize. This particular kid is a bit of a turd; he's a big kid, mostly quiet, but can be a little bit of a bully and a little bit lazy. He's relatively bright in math, although not so much in his other classes.

There were several kids hanging around me as I looked at this kid's paper. I saw that he had done all of the work, getting to the desired answer of $10,737,000 some-odd dollars.

He had also written a certain word in very large letters on his paper and circled it. I looked at the kid, a little stunned, I asked him, "Eric, why on EARTH did you write the word "PENIS" on your paper?"

Startled, he looked at me, then at some of the other kids, and kind of leaned in close to me and quietly said, "Miss... that's the answer. I circled it because I would pick the pennies."

Pennies... Penis... poor kid can't spell worth a damn.

But the damage was done. My class erupted in laughter and I quickly turned a shocking shade of crimson.

I'm so very glad that school is almost over.

Pushing up Daisies

I came home from school today with one goal in my mind. Laundry. Must Do Laundry. I've got a volleyball game tomorrow night, and I absolutely must have a clean sports bra to wear. (I just don't think the push-up under wire variety I normally wear will work for diving in the sand. I'd have boobies popping out all over the place.)

I get started on my chore, dumping in a load of whites, and wander back to the kitchen where I see the message on the dry-erase board. "Daisy died."

Sidebar: My roommate grew up in a menagerie, where she and her brother played host to several varieties of pets, from iguanas and turtles to flying squirrels and chinchillas. In fact, when 40 left the menagerie after college and moved into Xanadu, two little warm fuzzies accompanied her: Spartacus the bunny and Daisy the chinchilla.

Daisy was a sweet little thing, and I felt sad for 40, so I called and to express my sympathies. During our conversation, I inquired to the nature of Daisy's final resting place. Since Daisy will live on forever in the 'Til5 family's 19-ninety somethin’ Christmas card photo, 40 has decided to simply discard her.

In the trash.

The trash that's in the laundry room.

Where I'm doing laundry.

I'm honestly a little oogied out right now.

I know that's childish, but I feel I'm being disrespectful to Daisy by accidentally dropping my dirty sock on the Hefty bag that is her sepulcher.

Also, I had needed to move the bag a little in order to close the door all the way, so I kicked the bag a little. I hope I didn't kick her.

Poor Daisy.

Rest in peace, sweet muncher of raisins... and shoes.

But think I may wait to finish laundry until after the garbage goes out tomorrow.

Nothing but love...

Right about now I’m wondering if anyone would get the George Harrison reference in the title of my entry from last Sunday... I've had that song in my head now for days. Back in college, when I was taking sign language, I "sang" that song in sign lanuage for my final project. Needless to say, I know every note and then some...

It's a great song, really, and it kind of summarizes the way I feel about my life. I'm really happy right now, and I'm thankful for it.

I'm thankful for a lot.

Right now, I'm especially thankful for my Doctor Pheelgood.

Doctor Pheelgood, aka Officer Pheelgood, is the police officer at the middle school where I teach. This man is quite possibly one of the most genuine, kind hearted people I’ve ever met. He's a police officer, but also a therapist, and has PhD in abnormal psych. (What a perfect qualification to work at a middle school, btw...)

Several times a week, I find myself knocking on his door, just to sit down a chat for a few. Regardless of my mood when I enter, I always leave feeling happy and confident. I don't know how he does it. I could walk through the door feeling like an fugly, hideously incompetent societal reject, and I’ll leave knowing that I’m good at what I do, that I have the ability to fix whatever problem I may be having, and that I’m the most beautiful creature to have ever walked the face of the earth.

It also doesn’t hurt that Pheelgood enjoys the bounty that is my cleavage. Granted, he’s old enough to be my father and is happily married, but the sexually under-toned banter always puts a smile on my face.

I owe you a lot, Pheelgood. I don’t think I could’ve made it through this horrendous first year of teaching without your guidance. And for that, one of these days, I just may get drunk enough to show you my boobs.

Or maybe just one.

This is the way the world ends: not with a bang, but a whimper. - T.S. Eliot

I hate my reproductive system.

I am in so much pain right now. It kind of pisses me off that I'm in so much pain right now. Last month, I had to have a D&C in order to clean out my uterus. Apparently, mine doesn't work properly. If I'm not actively on hormone therapy, my uterus won't empty completely like it should each month, and I end up with a gunked up (and exceptionally painful) uterus, which is why I ended up needing a D&C last month.

However, everything should've gotten cleared out last time. I should be starting fresh. Why the HELL am I in so much pain?

Let me answer my own rhetorical question.

'Cause I've got endometriosis.
'Cause I've also got ovarian cysts.
My reproductive system blows.

Goddamn I hurt.

My back aches and I'm cold and dizzy from the monthly onset of anemia and I feel a lot like someone is repeatedly pummelling my abdomen. My head is throbbing and I can't even walk upright because of the pain.

I've pretty much determined that I don't want kids. I'm 99% sure. If I were 100% sure, I'd have had the damn uterus removed by now.

But there's that nagging little 1%.

I guess I'll just go home and pop some Vicodin and snuggle up to my heating pad, and suffer again through my monthly hell.

And to all those women with light, minimal, stress-free periods: I hate your guts right now.

Here Comes the Sun (dooten doo doo)

The weather today has sucked. Other than that, I could not have had a better Mother's Day. I spent some thoroughly enjoyable quality time with the parents. I even ended up with a pair of new tires and some new clothes from Old Navy... (?) My father joked, "This our thanks for not being a mother yet..."

So I'm on the way home from my parents house on the northside, and the miserable pouring rain has finally slowed to an intermittent drizzle. I had just had a great day, (great week for that matter) and I didn't think I couldn't have been in a better mood. To the west, it appeared the storms were letting up, and clearer skies were moving in. The sun, which had fallen below the oppressive gray ceiling, shone brightly as it descended toward the horizon. As I drove toward Greenspoint, the glass buildings were reflecting the sunlight, making each building look like it had a golden wall. It was pretty cool. On the bridge between the freeways, I caught a glimpse of downtown to the south. It too was looking pretty golden.

For a about ten miles of icky, drizzly driving, I saw pretty much only the backs of other vehicles. However, as I crested the overpass crossing the 610 loop, I saw downtown again for the first time in several miles. I was jammin' out to Melissa Etheredge (don't laugh at my music choice) and then my breath was literally taken away. The sinking sun still shone brightly from the west, making the buildings shoot up like metallic flames against the stormy dark blanket that still shrouded most of the city. I almost hit the inside wall before I could take my eyes away from the vision. It was positively one of the single most gorgeous views I've ever seen. I'd have given my right arm for a camera. The colors were just incredible. I drove in awe the rest of the way home, staring at downtown.

I have never loved where I live so much as I did in those moments.

And thus my good mood was sealed.