Numbers

Well Halloween has come and gone. I went on a date (dinner and drinks) on Friday, and eventually went to Hurricane Alley where I proceeded to get a couple of numbers, good and bad. Good because I like one of the guys (though now I'm having second thoughts) and bad because the other one is the brother of the teacher a few doors down from me (did you follow all of that?) and he's not my type. What was I thinking? Maybe we could hang out as friends but when you use the word sexy it takes away the chance for friendship, right? Whatever, more drama problems which all in all are pretty silly. Dammit though, drinking the night away and dealing with the consequences of the new problems created because of the previous' nights actions, is so 10 years ago. Bleh.

It's that Time again

Soon Halloween will come and pass and before I know it, Christmas will be in a few days. It happens every year. I say, "I thought it was just February." Well for starters, I'm glad it's not February. I'd hate to have to relive that month. I've got a shit load of things to be doing and very little motivation. I did get the title on my paper done tonight (plus the reference) so half the battle is done. I have like a ton of missing assignments to do for my Saturday class. Plus I've got more coming. I have a sink full of dirty dishes and a dishwasher full of clean dishes. I'm tired (big surprise there) and all I'd really like to do is sleep until the next decade comes. Maybe it will be better. I highly doubt it.

I did have a lot of fun this weekend. Not real productive but fun. I had such a good time on Friday, I don't even remember it all. Just call me Mrs. Robinson. I think I would almost rather be annoyed than lonely. I also think it's probably greener on the other side and I just haven't been annoyed in 6 months so I've forgotten what it's like. Well the dishes haven't yet unloaded themselves, Cinderellie has to get back to work. Until next time.

Redemption

I think it's a bad sign that I can't even spell redemption right. I hope to get some at some point in time so that I don't rot in hell forever. However, I think the things I've done and the thoughts I've had are worth it. Speaking of that. I hate my ex-husband, he's an asshole.

Another week has passed by, thank God. I'm still behind on my school work but hope this week will be the week I get motivated. I've been having trouble wanting to get out of bed lately. I hear that's what happens when you're depressed. The low point must come and then I can only go up from there. I think I'll pick it up tomorrow; I missed a certified letter in the mail today from my ex-husband's lawyer. Okay, well it's getting late and I wouldn't want to put anymore down here than I already have, this late at night. I can't be held accountable for anything I say or type after 8pm.

Seven

The word I want to say is a harsh word, slightly inappropriate and starts with the seventh letter of the alphabet. I am sorta at the point where if I had the liberty, I would go around and just say to people, Fuck off. I know that this would lead to problems at the work place and in my personal life but sometimes the movie playing in my head is of the scenario: people telling me stuff and me replying, "fuck off" or "shut the fuck up" and then walking away. Like when Shane talked to me today, I wanted to say, "shut the fuck up" and walk away. When my colleague told me something completely stupid, I wanted to say, "shut the fuck up, you're an idiot." but decided that wasn't appropriate to be saying at work. When he approached me later, I wanted to say, "fuck off, asshole" but only waved. When I caught a kid surfing MySpace today and denied it, I wanted to say "Shut the fuck up, I saw you" instead I said that I saw his MySpace page up and asked if he was calling me a liar. Thankfully I am technologically savvy enough to navigate FireFox to figure out how to prove what he was surfing and when (he closed the tab). After that, I told him I wasn't an idiot and I didn't appreaciate him lying to me.

I am wondering now, how many people must think I am an idiot. I get lied too more often than not. I wonder if people think I got off the boat yesterday or something. Do I really look that stupid? Or is it really, are they that stupid to think I would believe their lies. Hmm...

Wanting to Vomit

So I read an article on CNN:
http://www.cnn.com/2008/LIVING/wayoflife/10/03/o.why.men.cheat/index.html?iref=mpstoryview

It has to do with men cheating on their wives. "In a new study conducted by marriage counselor M. Gary Neuman, it's estimated that one in 2.7 men will cheat -- and most of their wives will never know about it." That's really the only thing I didn't know. I know statistics and I hate them. There is so much human error to be had and statistics are always skewed, so rarely do I believe them. I would hate to believe this one because it would affirm my belief in marriage being a broken institution. The article went on to state other things that I was aware of, such as sex rarely being the number one reason why men cheat (it's "emotional disconnection" ie low self-esteem, etc) which then leads to the fact that more often than not the woman he cheats with isn't a "10" on the Hot Scale. It has to do more with the other woman listens or tells him what he needs to hear. Blah blah blah. Read the article for yourself.

After skimming the article, it made me want to kick Oprah for probably making thousands of more women paranoid. Yes, men are scum bags. Yes men cheat. But don't forget, it takes two to tango. This means women are also scum bags. Women cheat. Neither one are innocent. So let's not label men as cheaters. Let's not hate men because they cheat. Let's hate cheaters in general, whether they be men or women.

I'll be the first to tell you, I hate men, in fact I hate them so much, I love them (it's part of being so far right, I'm left ie the spectrum is really a sphere). I hate women too, but the lesser of two evils has to be men. However, I hate men who cheat even more and there is no love for men who cheat. I hate men who cheat because I've been on the receiving end of it and it sucks. I have no respect for women who cheat nor do I have respect for either party who is involved in infidelity; they are just no-good-rotten people without morals or regards for other people's feelings. So here's to my ex-husband, may you rot in the dirt and have cockroaches eat you; fuck you.

So now that the anger for today has been released, its back to school and "Why Special Educators Leave and Where They Go." Gee, now let me think, that's a hard question to answer.

Blogging from the grave

If one can do that, I may be doing it soon for a variety of different reasons. First and foremost, I've got the worst gas, ever. Today at Wal-Mart, I farted (quietly) and Serena said loudly, "Ew, you farted." Of course this man had just walked by and began laughing when she said this to me. I am sure I had turned red, and I'll give it to her, it smelled pretty bad. I let out another one before we left and I told Serena, "Okay, let's go before you comment, I just farted." I am still smelling 5 hours later and we both may die.

If my own gas doesn't kill me this weekend, I've got several students (2) who may. Both are emotionally disturbed but only one has actually verbalized his prejudice towards woman and woman of color, and me, personally. Behaviors have been escalating in one particular student, recently within the past couple of weeks. We are starting our 9th week of school, information I learned on Friday would have been helpful 9 weeks ago. Better late then never, right? I'm almost at the point where I value my life enough to not want it to end in an abrupt school incident. I am blogging about this so that when it happens this can be used as evidence towards premeditation. I've only been real scared for myself one other time, a couple of years ago when a drunk Native American guy hit on me and wouldn't leave me alone at a bar. He completely creeped me out and touched my shoulder, leaned on me and blabbed to me until I escaped to the bathroom. He tried to get me to dance several times, and get me to go for a walk with him. Well I've done some pretty stupid things, but I'm not stupid. So I gave my dad's plumber whom I saw there also, a full description of the man and where he was from in case the Sun News ran an article on a missing Asian woman. I left, literally running to my car, looking over my shoulder. Needless to say, I haven't been back there since, by myself.

So I've been a bit stressed lately, fearing for my life 1st and 2nd period; struggling to catch up academically, financially, and being depressed. All take up a lot of energy and any I've had left over has been focusing on the new object of my affection. We haven't signed out teaching contracts this year and with the raise in insurance, we're actually making less per paycheck than we did last year. Plus, shithead ex-husband has decided to stop paying tuition and hasn't yet paid the damn lunch lady at Serena's school. You would think making $60K a year, you could afford to pay for your only child's lunch. Fucker. Obviously, like my students, I am emotionally disturbed and have some internalized anger. However, unlike my students, I can legally deal with my anger in an unhealthy way. And that I shall do and turn in for the night.

High School Never Ends

So my tying may be a little sloppy because I am on my laptop typing in the dark. My laptop is as old as my car and both have lasted longer than my marriage. Both were created before I got married too. I have started smiling and laughing to myself this afternoon a couple of times (I think it's a sign of insanity) because I've been having flashbacks to being in high school. One in particular would be KT taking a picture of Josh with her camera down by her side because she was secretly taking his picture, one that exists in immortality, yet Josh doesn't know it exists, 14 years after the fact.

I contracted out my picture taking, this time 14 years later, still in high school but with slightly newer technology, a cell phone camera. It makes me laugh that 14 years later not a lot has changed. This time I'm older, and my friends who support my silliness are older now too. I find it absoultly hilarious. Thankfully he doesn't know, well he does know, but he doesn't know who the picture was for, or at least I don't think he does. It wouldn't be nearly as funny if he knew. If he does, I'll just keep on pretending....