New Year

I need New Year's Eve plans that don't suck and are in Chicagoland. I come back from abroad just a few days before and start back at work right after, so I can't really go anywhere, but I've got nothing to do here yet. If you do not suck, come play with me. Call me. If you do not know my phone number, then you are a stranger stalker creepy person and I don't want to hang out with you anyway.

I've started watching Craig Ferguson instead of Conan. Conan gets better guests and his weird sketch clip things are a million times funnier, but Craig's monologue is amazing and doesn't rely so much on obvious jokes about current events. Much more rambling and random. I flip back and forth, but Craig is the main event.

Cough wheeze hack wheeze cough orange juice

Face...off

Woman has first face transplant

Gross (but not body function gross, more like smelly gross) story

I walk in the door to my apartment building tonight to be greeted by the scent of carrion. It seemed to smell worst right outside my door by the radiator, so I trepidly peeked around, expecting to find a dead rat. No rat. No dead anything. My apartment only smelled near the door, and it smelled worse in the hall, so I figured it was somewhere in the hallway. Couldn't find it. I lit a bunch of candles around my apartment, but the smell was still really strong. Freud's crate is near the door, so I took all the blankets and everything out, fearing he'd captured some small creature, but the grossest thing in his crate was a shredded pair of my undies he'd burried under his bed. At this point I was going a bit nuts, so I went on a cleaning spree. I threw out all sorts of crap from my kitchen and went through papers and put my laundry in appropriate places and moved my bed away from the wall and collected the assorted plastic bags sloppily gathered near the door (I hoard them for cleaning up after Freud's poop). That's when I found it. Sunday night I bought a beautiful on sale for $3.99/lb steak. Somehow, when I put away my groceries, it stayed hidden in its bag-inside-the-bag, and was hidden among the empty bags. 48 hours later, it fucking stunk. It is now outside in the dumpster. This is the second piece of steak I've left out this month. The first one was cooked and served for dinner at my parents' and I brought it home and took it out for a late night snack and ate half and forgot to put the second half back in the fridge. I love steak way too much to be treating it so shamefully.

Today I learned what the spleen does. Not that interesting, which is a shame because it has such a wonderful name. Spleeeeeeeeeen.

the usual insomnia crap

1 AM. Still awake. It's too hot in my apartment, so I'm sprawled out mostly naked trying to keep the heat-producing dog out of my bed. After spending most of Saturday and Sunday being a lazy bum and recuperating from Thanksgiving, I didn't fall asleep last night until after 8 AM. I then slept until around noon. I should be exhausted, but I am not at all tired. I thoroughly flossed, Listerined, and brushed my teeth and maybe I'll read or play Uno on my cell phone now, but I have to be at work by 9 tomorrow morning and this whole nocturnal thing just isn't conducive to the continuation of my gainful employment. That was a long sentence.
Remind me again why bedtime beer is a bad idea...

No confidence

From BBC.com:
Canada's government is thrown out
Paul Martin's detractors celebrated as he was toppled
Canadian Prime Minister Paul Martin's government has been ousted in a no-confidence vote.

Can we please do this to the US republicans? Or at least George W?



The changing pressure systems are currently making themselves known inside my head. I'm moving to the mountains.

thump thump thump

My upstairs neighbor is having the sex again. Lovely.

Went to the grocery store tonight after 10. It reminded me of oh so many trips in Amherst (H pronounced), Ohio. I miss my shopping partners.

Rent PS

The more I think about it, the more I feel the fantastic blending of voices was more important than how particularly perfect an actor was or was not for a part.

Thanks, giving, etc.

Gobble gobble. Gobble gobble gobble, gobble gobble, gobble.

Thanksgiving was excellent this year. With the return of my dad's sister's ex-husband's brother's family, the conversation and company was all much more interesting and genuine and warm and squishy. A bit strange not having my sister there, as I think she would have appreciated the change in atmosphere, but she's off in Salzburg reenacting Sound of Music with her straight male friend, so I don't feel too bad for her. The food was fabulous as usual, and this year Freud even came down and checked things out without completely freaking out. My cousin-in-law thinks she might want to take violin lessons, so we tried a mini-lesson on my sister's violin (thanks, Lynn, it was the only one in the house and I figured you wouldn't care) and now I'm hoping to find someone who knows someone who would be a good violin teacher in the Boston area. Know any great violin teachers in Boston?

Today I saw Rent with the family. I enjoyed it very much, though I am always a sucker for musicals. I need to write a good musical. I really want to do a variation on the Golem stories, but we'll see if that ever actually happens. I'm still young. My mom was fairly critical of the movie (though she also enjoyed it), thus reminding me why I'm so fucking annoying to go see things with. Not even I rip things apart as badly as she does, but she also enjoys chick-flicks and manipulative sob-fests (often the same things), so perhaps I'm no better overall. I also thought that Jesse L. Martin was much better suited for the Rent role than as Detective Green on Law & Order. Not that I don't love Law & Order, but his tough-guy thing always seems off to me. They just need to have him sing and dance more while he solves cases. Anthony Rapp is very good and attractive (and an Interlochen alum), but he seems too WASPy to play "Mark Cohen" and make bar mitzvah references, while Idina Menzel seemed very Jewish though her parents in the movie were total WASPs and her character's last name was "Johnson." Then again, New York drug addicts don't burn their eviction notices and sing in the streets, so it's an odd thing to be picky about.

Hopefully tomorrow I can get together with Diana for a bit and then head back to my apartment. My bed, shower, and solitude are all missed.

mmm...doughnuts

Can't sleep. 6 hours of Kids Klub tomorrow, the first hour or so I will be the only teacher. I'm hungry but there's nothing I really want to eat. Warm doughnut would be good, but I'm not sure going to at 2 AM with work in the morning is such a great idea. Besides, the doughnut I want would be warm and fresh and more like an apple danish. Oooh, apple danish would be good. Or a cinnamon roll. Ann Sathers needs to be a 24-hour establishment. Maybe I should go just so I'm not sitting here being annoyed at myself for being awake.

I brought the little violins to Kids Klub today and it went extremely well. One kid stayed after just because he wanted to play the violin, so his mom did a one day drop-in. So maybe I'll have to start a small violin class or take on just a few students on Sundays or something. I need to call my old violin teacher. I also need to call two doctors, a dentist, and my bank. I don't know why it is quite so difficult for me to make those sorts of calls. Suck it up, Sucky McSucksuck.

There's this thing on the sole of my right big toe that started as a blister and then turned into a callus and now it's like it's own icky weird squishy entity and way too facinating to poke.

Hannah's coming back from India. The United States will be whole again.

Wow I'm a dumbass. Maybe I will throw on pants and go to Dunkin Donuts after all. Maybe I can then slip into a greasy doughnut food coma. I'll bring Freud so if I get mugged my assailant will get a thorough barking-at. Wow, I really need a late-night diner buddy. Brian, why must you be elsewhere? Believe it or not, you cannot be replaced by a dog.

bit

Brain's a bit ouchy, dog's a bit stinky, and Jill's a bit lonely.

But just a bit.

Sunday night snippets

Sunday dinners at my parents' have become a regular thing. They feed me beef, so I can't complain.

It's Toph's fault my site now has ads, but if people click on said ads I get money. I've made almost $2 in the two days. Pretty soon I can quit my job and retire.

I was supposed to go to Elizabeth's boyfriend's housewarming party last night, but Elizabeth got sick (thank you, booger-eating children) so I ended up home alone and bored again. I really need to be more socially aggressive.

West Wing needs to get its ass back on the air. Too many weeks off and I'm going through withdrawal.

While the walls in my apartment are for the most part very good, they haven't been blocking out the late-night rhythmic thumping of my upstairs neighbor. Just another friendly reminder that people who aren't me have sex.

Warm Bed 1, Shul Shopping 0

I'm awake early enough to go to the Orthodox services, but I am officially laming out. Some day.

Boring post, EXCITING (read:annoying) animations

Yesterday I was parked in front of my bank for five minutes while I used the ATM. I could see my car from where I stood and it was after 6 PM, so I didn't put money in the meter. Somehow, during the moments I was signing checks or hitting buttons, They ticketed my car. $30. Apparently the meter needed to be fed until 9 PM. I was angry.
Today I somehow thought that leaving my car at a two-hour meter at 3 would be legal until I got off working at Nettlehorst around 6. I realised my miscalculation as I was looking at my watch around 5:55. I got to my car, illegal parked for an hour, and it had no ticket.
The Cosmos and I are at peace as my ticket receivingness and deservingness are in balance once again.


Tomorrow morning I'm going to Modern Orthodox Jew services. I don't yet know how weird it will be.

I feel like an Eric Carle book

Today I ate:

1. Most of a giant turkey-shaped cupcake/cookie thing that was about 80% frosting
2. A $1.50 Swanson Turkey Pot Pie that wasn't as good as the 67 cent Banquet Turkey Pot Pie I ate two days ago
3. 1/3 of a mealy apple
4. One chocolate wafer cookie
5. One Tombstone Deep Dish individual frozen pizza

Not particularly satisfying.

Notorious

The links to my blog on both Brian and Toph's blogs read "Too Much Information from Jill." I am quite aware of this fact. I don't care. I think this just proves this thing is really as much for me as for anyone else. It's my journal, censored only when necessary for "political" purposes. I used to say that I wanted no one reading my journals ever because then there'd be no point in talking to me because they'd already "know" me. Fuck that. I want to be known.

Winter

It's 23 degrees out and it snowed today and some of said snow is still on the ground. I want to hibernate but my stupid dog doesn't know how to use a toilet.

Welcome, Brian, to blogging. Jeni: you were the last to get a cell phone, how long before you join our new technological trend/cult?

Happy 1/2 Birthday, Noodle-Butt!

Depressed, repressed, unimpressed, and permanent-pressed

Depression is a nasty little bugger. It's all over both sides of my extended family, and while I'm doing pretty well these days, I hate watching people I love going through it all. My brother in particular. Being 16 sucks to begin with, much because of other 16-year-olds. They tend to be too self-involved to make good, supportive friends, though good supportive friends is what every 16-year-old needs. My brother is lucky to have an amazingly mature best friend who came over last night and sat with him while he sobbed until he fell asleep. She's been one of his best friends since elementary school and is practically part of the family. I always wanted one of those, but what can you do. He's doing better today and will probably do better tomorrow and the next day, but it sucks watching somebody you love hurt.
My parents were understandably upset by his meltdown and he wouldn't let them anywhere near him last night and they didn't know what to do. Luckily they knew enough to get out of the way, but besides that they just felt impotent and lost. I felt the total helplessness, too, but having been in my brother's shoes plenty of times before it was less scary for me. I could at least understand what he was going through and know that it gets better. I also realized that the reason I hid my depression for so long was that I didn't have the kind of friends I could sit with and sob until college. (Those of you who've spent large quantities of time watching me sob, you know who you are and I thank you. I love you guys.)
Maybe the reason I always needed to be the friend who takes care of my other friends was that it's what I wanted someone to be for me. Hero complex. I'm always standing up for people, even when they'd rather I just shut up, probably because I wish someone had stood up for me in grade school when the other kids were such shitheads. It's the problem with the "do onto others" thing: others may not actually want what you want. Still, we're forced to interpret others' wants using our own observations which are in turn clouded by our own experiences, so I guess it's inescapable.

In less weighty news, yesterday was my half-birthday. My family still celebrates half-birthdays as sort of a quirky little just us thing. It's an excuse to eat cake and get silly little presents. Among other things, I got a memory card for my phone. I already downloaded off the internet and Penelope (my computer)'s hard drive pictures for when I call or am called by most of my friends and relatives, as well as the Sesame Lounge mp3s. I tried downloading a bunch of my other mp3s, but they seem to be in the wrong format and won't get play on my phone. I'll have to work on that.

I needed more red meat tonight for dinner so I decided to try Boston Market's steak. Their commercial gets stuck in my head with some regularity and there's a drive-through not far from my apartment. After screwing up and giving my order to the car in front of me, they took forever to get my food to me and when I got home I noticed they didn't even give me cornbread. The new potatoes, mac & cheese, and sirloin steak (which came with a nice big cup of au jus) were all very tasty, but considering it cost $8.73 after taxes, there wasn't that much food. I suppose it's still cheap for a steak dinner, but expensive for fast-food. I don't think I'll buy it again.

I need to do laundry again. I just did it a few weeks ago. Yeesh.

Booty booty booty

Hate womanhood. Hate hate hate.

I spent a long time tonight finding different options for traveling to and from London and Edinburgh with my family over Christmas. Very exciting. I ended up putting it all in spreadsheet form because I am a dork and it's a lot easier to see the real options and their prices that way. Please, beat me up and take my lunch money.

I let Freud have the crumbs from my bag of Pirate's Booty this afternoon and as stuck his face all the way in to eat the last dregs it got stuck on his head. It was the funniest thing ever and I tried to get a picture of it but by the time I found my camera-phone he'd gotten it off.

Tomorrow morning my mother and I are going to some Jewish women writers' thing at one of my students' houses. Should be interesting.

Brian Zeller you know you want to start your own blog. It can't be lamer than mine--it's just not physically possible. Call it "no place like shmome" or bloggerrhythm. Then it will at least be moderately lame.

Jews and Hullabaloos

Hannah's blog is awesome. I am all kinds of impressed. Not that I expected it to suck or anything, but she's a really fantastic writer and in all our years of friendship I never read anything non-academic that she'd written. She also has fabulous stories to tell. So quit reading about my boring-ass life and go look at her blog.

I fell asleep last night before 8 PM and slept until 7:30 AM. I then woke up for about an hour before going back to sleep until noon. Yes, Jeni, I know I'm a wuss and you are a better person than I am, but I have now recovered from my many many hours with children.

Wednesday night I went to a Jewish history class for 20-30 somethings taught by a rabbi I really like. He's the dad of one of the junior kindergarteners at work (an extremely cute one who has a Belle Disney Princess jacket) and exudes thoughtful spirituality while being extremely friendly and approachable. The class itself was very small and the other people I met were all very friendly and interesting and it seems like a fabulous community. I just wish it wasn't an Orthodox shul. It's modern orthodox, and apparently the men and women are on the same level and can see eachother and everybody's very accepting of however much or little you follow in your own life, but the men and the women still sit separately and it's still Orthodox. I may be jewier than my family, but it's a long way to orthodox. I eat cheeseburgers and would work on shabbat if offered money and believe humans wrote the Torah and that the messiah isn't actually coming and that God is more like electrified Jello than a human being. Still, I so far like Anshe Shalom better than the Reform congregations I've been to and it's more appealing than the big conservative one, too. Maybe if I wake up at 7-something again tomorrow morning I'll drag my ass over to shabbat services (I can take the bus so I'm not driving up to the door but don't have to walk over a mile in the cold first thing in the morning). Really, I should contact Josh (my random email Jew-buddy) and go with him one week. Not that we could sit together...God that's weird.

Speaking of Jews, Joel is sad. Send him happy thoughts.

Once again it is Ouchy Ouchy Uterus Time! I need to call my new potential neurologist and make an appointment and get my medications readjusted so I can figure out if there's a Pill that won't put me at risk for stroke but will make womanhood quite so unpleasant. Plus, with all the sex I have, I obviously need it to not get pregnant. Obviously. My brother just got diagnosed as ADHD and they put him on Concerta, which makes me wonder if I, too, have a medical deficit in my attention, but I am on enough drugs as it is.

Brian called tonight and it was really nice talking to him. I miss people. Sure, I'm on my way to making new people, but I love and miss my old people. Stupid space/time continuum.

go gadget go

I subbed for the Hebrew teacher today, which was entertaining because the second graders are a bit beyond my level in comprehension, though I'm still a better reader than 4/5 of the class. The first graders are mean to eachother and it's even worse at Kids Klub. I tried talking to one of the main meanies today and she said that yelling and being snotty and bossing people around is the only way anybody listens. She's 7. How do you teach that a) being kind is more important than being heard and b) sometimes it's more important to be listening than listened to.

I don't know if I'll survive two more 10-hour days, even with a 3-ish hour break tomorrow. I need to be asleep now. Freud's going nuts with the thunder outside, not to mention when I'm gone all day he gets playful, or at least his version thereof.

Sneezy sneezy sneezy, I think I may have beaten this cold with just mild symptoms. Go go gadget immune system.

snotty

I am now scheduled to work every day this week from 7:45 AM until 6, with the exception of Wednesday afternoon when I have a break from around 1-3 and Friday which I haven't decided for sure if I'll work or not at all. Money is a good thing and I like what I do, but I'm definitely fighting a cold now (back! back vile cold!) and I could probably use a bit more rest and less stress. Oh well, I'll just keep chugging tea and maybe stop somewhere for orange juice tomorrow on my way home.

As a teacher, how does one un-mean a mean kid?

I'm mucusful.

mundanity

I got 11 new pairs of underwear (I hate the word "panties") today to replace the ones a certain nameless member of my household found his way into my laundry hamper and devoured. On the plus side, I love new undies.

My throat is sore. I'm hoping I'm not germy as I have three 10-hour days next week. It is extremely dry in my apartment, which could also be the sore throat cause. My skin was all kinds of itchy and dry and not even my medicated Gold Bond moisturizer was enough. I tried the in-shower moisturizer crap I'd seen advertised, and it helped but I was still dry. So now I'm using both Olay Moisturinse In Shower Body Lotion and Olay Complete Body Wash for Extra Dry Skin, and my skin has never felt this good. I should get the Olay people to sponsor me or at least give me free shit for raving about their products. Now if we can just perfect the skin on my face and back...it's doing better than at many other points in my life, but damnit, I've been getting zits for a good 14 years--shouldn't I be done by now? And I'm sure all the chemical crap I use now is going to make my face turn to paper before I hit 40.

Being a grown-up makes really boring things seem more interesting and important than they are.

Maybe I'll make myself some tea.

CD I need to own right now

I was watching Austin City Limits on PBS because Ben Folds was on. I love Ben Folds, but the second performer tonight was Ray LaMontagne. I'd never heard of him before. He was fantastic. Just incredible. Musical and intense and completely real and fabulous. Toph and Amy, if you are reading this, I think you would like him very much (if you don't already). Brian, you would probably like him, too, though I'm less certain. Either way, I'm going to my parents' for brunch tomorrow and I think I'll have to kidnap my brother and go buy the CD at Borders or somewhere.

the spiraling abyss of the human soul

Thoughts that proved I'm going to hell:

1. Upon hearing about a pedophilic rabbi: "Well I guess it's not just for Catholics anymore."
2. Ethiopian food: and oxymoron?

I went to an Ethiopian restaurant last night with Elizabeth. I actually liked it quite a bit. Everything is served on a big platter lined with spongy flat bread and they give you more spongy flat bread with which to eat the meats and sauces. One of the dishes was fairly spicy so I got an Ethiopian beer to wash it down. The beer was fine, though nothing special.

Yesterday at the end of school, two children (we'll call them "Peter" and "Wendy") wanted to read the same book. Wendy had it first, but Peter tried to take it from her hands. She held on tight and it ripped. They were both very upset and Peter wouldn't accept that it was an accident or that we need to use words instead of grabbing things, so he had to sit out to think about it. Wendy banished herself to the other side of the room and cried. I talked to her and calmed her down and told her it wasn't her fault, that those things happen and that the other teacher and I weren't mad. Then Peter would yell, "You ripped it!" and she started crying again. The other JK teacher ("Morah Jane") came back and also tried talking to them with the same results. Meanwhile, the mother of the third child still in the class ("Belle") came in to pick her up. We just explained they were having a little spat over a book and Belle wasn't involved. As Morah Jane was talking to Wendy, Wendy's dad came in to pick her up. Wendy told her dad why she was upset, so Wendy's dad went over to Peter and said to him quite seriously, "Be careful or Wendy will get her brothers to come and beat you up." The room went silent. Morah Jane and Belle's mom and I looked at eachother and since no one else responded I turned back to Wendy's dad and Peter and said, "No, we're going to work this out using our words."
Morah Jane went to find the head of the school ("Lilly") to talk to Wendy's dad and Wendy and her dad went to get Wendy's brothers from first grade. I was saying bye to Belle and her mom when we spotted Peter's mom. Belle's mom immediately told her what Wendy's dad had said, and Peter's mom was livid. She was ranting about how inappropriate it was (which it was) and I tried to explain exactly what happened and pulled her into the classroom where Peter was still pouting.
At this time Lilly was on the phone long-distance with her ex-husband discussing their former family friend, a rabbi, who was to be on Dateline after being caught in an internet pedophilia sting. They had stayed at his house when their children (now around my age) were little. This was when Morah Jane went in and told Lilly she was needed immediately.
Peter's mom confronted Wendy's dad about what was said to her child and apparently did an excellent job, simply stating that the issue isn't whether or not Peter did something wrong, but that it is NEVER appropriate to threaten a 4-year-old with a beating from a pair of 7-year-olds.
Lilly walked Wendy's dad to his car with him trying to defend his words the whole way. He said he was teaching his kids to stand up for themselves, that Wendy knew if anybody bothered her she was supposed to tell her brothers and that they knew to beat up the botherer. That's how it works in the "real world," and that the school is a total vacuum.
This last piece may be true, but there is a huge difference between being assertive and being aggressive. Threatening a 4-year-old over a ripped book is absurd.
After the dust cleared and all the parents and other teachers were gone, Lilly, Morah Jane and I talked in the parking lot. Lilly said that the incident was actually a total blessing. Apparently, other parents had frequently come to her about Wendy's dad's behavior and parenting at birthday parties and in the parking lot and such, but since it was always either with his own kids or away from school, Lilly had no real right to tell him what he was doing was wrong. But now that he said something in a classroom, in front of other kids and parents and teachers, to a child that wasn't even his own, Lilly can finally have a sit-down and talk with them about his shitty fucked-up parenting.
Morah Jane, who has been a teacher for about six years and even worked in inner-city public schools, was shocked that "people like that" actually exist. I'm more shocked that she hasn't encountered them before.

A Confederacy of Dorkses

Thoughts for today:
While watching the Chicago Jewish Day School kids on recess, I talked to one of the other teachers about how the really spacy kid isn't considered weird or ostracize. In the whole school, there isn't any child who is particularly ostracize. The first grade gets mean to one another, but hardly anyone is singled out exclusively, and the kid that comes closest to class dork still plays with the alpha personalities. Problems are solved by saying, "Tell Sarah how that makes you feel," and it actually works.
I was thinking about my own experiences in public school and about how I'm sure they toughened me up for the "real world" because reality is mean and petty. But a lot of the very functional grown-ups were raised in similarly sheltered environments and they turned out fine. Perhaps in the greater scheme of things they tend to be dorkier, but I don't think they notice or care. In the world of social pettiness, ignorance is perfectly acceptable bliss. May I please go back and redo my childhood in the unaware bubble of a small wealthy homogeneous private school? Reality's all relative anyway; I'd like to try one where I'm not "different."

Today's soundtrack included an excellent Beethoven sampler CD that had the second movement from whichever symphony it is that I always love but can never remember which number*, and the JK's welcome song, in Hebrew, to the tune of Are You Sleeping? Very strange to have the two stuck in my head simultaneously all day, but perhaps a bit better than in high school when my AP Calculus teacher put all the important rules to music and the tune of Jingle Bells constantly ran through my head with the words "F of x, f of x" instead.

*7. I just looked it up.

PS

It's 51 degrees outside, my window's open and my fan is on, and it is still at least 80 degrees in my apartment. I'm melting.