Okay, where am I?Lost.
No, I'm not lost. But I thought Lost was great last night. I know that lots of people are thinking that they didn't resolve things and actually opened up all kinds of new stuff, and this is true. But it was just good TV watching. Suspenseful, interesting, exciting. All I can say is that I enjoyed it. And then I had a creepy dream about Walt and a raft.
Our weather has been much more November than May this week, most unpleasant and weird. The sun actually came out around 5:30 before for the first time all week, which I guess was nice but a little bit too late for me. I went for a pedicure this afternoon and I so hate walking out in flip-flops in the rain. I always wear shoes and socks, and I do not like getting wet, I do not like it, Sam. I am.
Regardless of all that, when I got home there was a package and it was a pair of sandals I had ordered and forgotten about. And it's not like I ordered them ages ago; I know I decided to get them on Saturday, so I must have ordered them over the weekend. They're Merrell sandals, like the shoes I wear, and I thought they were too expensive, but on Saturday I went to the Birkenstock store with the Sibs and man, those babies are really expensive! Suddenly my comfortable Merrells looked cheapo, and they are so comfortable that maybe I'll really wear them in the summer. I'm wearing them now, actually, and since I also have a pedi it makes me look like I have real grown-up, girly feet. To match my manicured girly hands, which let me tell are getting to be a real typing problem. When I go back next week I'll have to have them trimmed back a whole lot.
One of my projects for today was updating my Professional Development Record. According to the Great State of New Jersey, every teacher must log 100 in-service hours over a 5 year period. This rule was instituted 5 years ago, minutes after I completed a Master's degree, so not an hour of that time counted for this. Even so, that first year I was teaching a lot of in-service stuff at school, so I had almost 100 hours that first year. I believe that I am now up to something like 267, but technically this is year 1 of the second 5 year period. I'm not opposed to the concept, but we get a half hour for every faculty meeting (ad infinitum) and it really is a pain to list everything along with the state standards that each item meets. Since no one is ever -- EVER -- going to look at these or check them, it is very very tempting to just write it all down and make up the standards. (1.12, 3.8, 6.4 - 6.7 and so on. They are meaningless.) I copied over the whole list we got from the office, the stuff that all of us have done. But the only things on my list that mean anything are the PFLAG workshop I ran and attended in the winter, and the graduate course I just took. It's all pointless paperwork. Your No Child Left Behind tax dollars at work.
Ooh, I have sandals on. Go me.
I'm getting my hair cut tomorrow, and I've been thinking about the wedding next week (!) and all that. On the day of the wedding, I'm getting my make-up and hair done. My plan, as it always is when I'm dressed up, is to not look like a librarian they let out of the stacks for the day. I'm thinking about the glasses thing. Should I not wear them? I mean, I need them to read, or do anything else close. Wear them in pictures? (Will it look like me?) Take them off for the ceremony? I can see fine from a distance. (Unless the Niece wants me to read something, of course.) I don't know, most days, rimless glasses seem just right for me, but I think not so dressy. I don't want to look like Robert McNamara, you know. On the other hand, I don't want to walk into walls.
I have earrings and bracelets to wear -- marcasite -- but nothing around my neck, and no watch. I did inherit my grandmother's diamond watch, but, dude. She had wrists like a two-year old, and I have skinny wrists. No one could wear this watch. (Not that it works.) My dressy watch is a gold (colored, I'm sure, not actual gold) Mickey watch, but my other jewelry is not gold. (And I can't read the Mickey without my glasses, heh heh.)
I'm moving into Obsessive Compulsive Land with a van; can you tell? Aarghh!
