Have I told you lately that I love my job?
How many people are lucky enough to say that, and mean it?
And to top it off, I got a call today from another university offering me summer employment teaching other teachers how to love their jobs, essentially. Does it get better than that?
Also, have I told you lately that I’ve made tacos for dinner? Because I could swear that I have, a lot. But my kids say no, it’s been ages. So that’s what we had.
I know. You’re super jealous.
Emergency call for help:
Does anyone (local) have a copy of the movie “Arachnophobia” I could borrow? None of the rental places carry it.
My most favorite know-it-all, teenage son has developed an intense loathing for spiders.
Something about finding a nest of giant furry brown ones in his bed this week. Repeatedly. Can I really pass up the opportunity to scar him for life with a thematic family movie night? Seize the day, and all that.
Speaking of seizing the day to do things squeamish teens may or may not appreciate–the next time you’re at Costco, pick up some Simply Asia Sweet Ginger Garlic seasoning. It made great BBQ sauce last week, and a totally different, but still to-die-for, sweet and sour sauce tonight:
Confession:
I just painted my fingernails.
Question(s):
Seriously?
Women subject themselves to this?
Who has time to let nail polish dry?!
Lame.
Also, what is the point of 738 different available colors?
All I wanted was a reasonable shade of skin…ish color to hide my pomegranate-stained nails from my students. (One becomes self-conscious of such things when one uses a doc cam regularly in front of 100+ students a day.)
And–who owns nail polish remover?
Oh. Right. Women who subject themselves to this.
Now what?
I know.
I promised this wouldn’t turn into a food blog. But good grief. As much as I love my classes this semester, and would love to write something profound and moving, all that comes out is a pathetic sort of whimper.
And also chicken strips. Frozen vegetables. Grilled bratwurst. Tater tots. Yeah. That’s the most exciting components of dinner the past two days.
We did, however, hold an impromptu great-feats-of-strength demonstration after dinner last night–complete with one-armed push-ups, face-first falls into push-up positions (think Batman), planking, extended wall-sits, some sort of strange stork pose, and my favorite: the cliff hanger.
That’s right–we have definitely proven that a teen boy can hang by his fingertips from a cliff (read: ledge above the stairwell) and, using only his arms, pull himself up over the brink and to safety. No toes allowed.
I may not be a stellar chef, but as least we’re getting in some face time. Yes?
I’ve made up my mind.
My superpower of choice: knowing precisely how much pasta to make per person, per meal without having any leftovers.
Tonight’s overabundance: Cheese Burger Mac.
You know that nightmare where you get to school and you realize you aren’t wearing any bottoms? Like… you put on your nylons, but you forgot the skirt? And your shirt just barely covers your hipbones, so it’s super embarrassing, no matter how hard you tug at the hem of it?
I passed two girls in the hall at school today who brought that nightmare to life.
By choice.
Because apparently nylons now qualify as stand-alone items of clothing. Fishnet ones, no less.
Emphasis on less.
Maybe that explains why I’m feeling the urge to get all old-fashioned tonight; I’m making bread and we’re having frybread for dinner.
Come on; it’s been like… almost a month. Ish.
And the boys all came in and ate nachos and leftover chili from last night, anyway, so, yes, there was protein involved.
I would upload a picture from my phone–of my daughter (who has come home from college this weekend because she needs what? Yes, you guessed it, all of it, I know you did) eating a 12-incher but then I’d have to go find it, and instead I need to stay right here until I deal with the 72 emails that I probably shouldn’t just delete flat out. You’ll have to trust me on this one.
It’s supposed to get horribly icy tonight. Snow and freezing rain. I’m countering it with an enormous batch of chili.
Is it strange that even though I love my job, I’m still kind of rooting for a two hour late start tomorrow?
Can I just say that I love my classes this semester? Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise–this generation is an incredible one. They face so many challenges, but they seem to be built for it. I walk out of every class wiser than I was before I went into it and listened to my students think and speak. My mind is racing and I’m already looking forward to the next day. They make me laugh and think and want to be more than I am.
Also, I kind of feel like I’ve been run over by a bus. Wiped. Out. So I am going to sum up dinner with one photo, and a quote, from son #5: “I think I just met my new favorite meat.”
My first try at pork chops (boneless, seared, with mushrooms and onions, then simmered in peach-mango salsa, served with rice and lemon pepper):
I love this about teaching high school–halfway through the year, you get to try a fresh approach with new classes, new kids, new material. It was a good first day of the semester, today. A great day.
I am just now walking in the door, however, almost 15 hours after I left this morning.
It’s a good thing I specified that my goal of at-least-five-meals-a-week begins and ends on each Monday at midnight, or I might owe one of you a meal. Between Saturday’s absence, and then last night’s quasi breakfast-dinner and tonight’s (in which I gave my son 25 dollars and told him he was in charge) I’m cutting it close.
Good.
Night.
Is it ironic that I stayed later today at school than any day previously–and it was a holiday?
Honestly, I might still be there, but the copy machine ran out of toner. Poor Sucker who thinks they are going to get their copying done early tomorrow, I’m sorry; I really have no idea where the replacement toner is kept.
Also, mild hypothermia was beginning to set in. Apparently, while they do leave the lights on at all times, they do not leave the heater running when school is not in session.
I came home and we had breakfast for dinner again. French toast and oranges and… chocolate ice cream. Come on–it’s Monday. Family night and all that. And I’ve been at work all day, on a holiday. Chocolate is thus a food group. Also, it was located next to the milk, bread, bananas and eggs, in the grocery store, so it counts.
Yes?
Mental Maytag 