For one, I was in there with the nuts. I went on the Model Congress field trip today, which was moderately interesting -- not as much as when I went when I was in high school myself -- and my mission there was to keep an eye on the one kid from my school who is a psycho. This is the kid that allegedly hacked my school website when he was a freshman (although I've always believed that the real hacker was the one who fingered the psycho.) It is exhausting to watch a nutcase for hours just in case he goes off. He didn't. After the last Model Congress session, he gave an interview to a newspaper in which he said "I am God." Yes. He said that, to a newspaper, and is proud of it. So you get the picture.I'm extremely tired today, although I slept last night, I guess just not for long enough. I ended up watching the Sopranos again last night, as I was recording it for the Hubs, which is three weeks in a row; funny for someone who doesn't regularly watch that show. (I watched the first season because I knew a kid at school, a professional actor, who was in an early episode, and I got hooked.) I only watched three weeks ago because I know someone else who supposedly had a bit part, but I never saw him, and then last week with the Hubs because we were in the hotel in D.C. Here's my Sopranos revelation, which, if I wrote this three weeks ago, I apologize, but I searched in my diary and I can't find it, so I guess I didn't. When I had the show on three weeks ago, I was also looking through all the pictures and files I was copying over to Maxx at the same time, and I came across a folder in my family archives called Carmela and Tony. I looked behind me to the TV and there were Carmela and Tony. Why on earth would I have a folder on my computer with their names on it? Oh .... yeah. Forgot. The Hubs' grandparents, on the Italian side, really were Carmela and Tony. I'd never noticed before, and neither had he. We were amused.
(Another bit of Sopranos lore, for those who are interested. I know that this has become the world's view of New Jersey, which of course, it isn't, but the locations are real. When they list in the credits all the towns that they thank for letting them film there, there are nearly all right here in Bergen County where I live. The Bada-Bing Club is really called Satin Dolls, and I have ridden past it routinely since I was a child. When my kids were in Europe and people would hear they were from New Jersey -- and have an Italian last name -- they would often say the one American word they knew: Sopranos? Hey ... not all of them are gangsters. The aforementioned Tony and his ancestors were artisans and craftsmen, in fact. My FIL is a retired educator, with advanced degrees from Columbia Teacher's College. I'm just saying. Although the Hubs, tongue in cheek, has always described The Godfather as his Roots.)
All is otherwise well, although for some reason I'm having trouble with my days of the week again. Isn't tomorrow Wednesday? Perhaps not. I'm taking my comp day tomorrow to be home for the electrician, who better come, and early. I don't think I can handle another day trapped in the house waiting for workers to arrive. I'm told that he's an early starter, so, good. It's even starting to feel to me like I've been out of work too much, not that I'm busy there or anything. But unless I actually get sick, this will be my last day out for the year. Next week is a four day week anyway, since there's no school on Memorial Day, and the week after that, finals start on Thursday, and the week after that is graduation and my last day on the 16.
Did I mention that I'm thinking of -- planning to, actually -- drive down to D.C. by myself to pick up K and the remains of her stuff? Probably the Sunday or Monday after school ends. I'll have the time to go, and the thing is, my car is small, and if we have more than two passengers, there won't be room for her stuff. It's about a five hour ride, not a difficult one, and I'd just stop every hour or so for more coffee and more potty. I'm actually kind of intrigued that I think I can do this. It's very unlike me. But when I do something that's unlike me and takes a bit more guts than I generally think I have -- meeting some wonderful folk in New Haven leaps immediately to mind -- it makes me feel incredibly good about myself. I'll just listen to lots of Harry Potter on the way.
Okay, this was the world's biggest nutshell. I'm off.
