My earlier entry of the day, which I wrote last night and which was about shingles and my college boyfriend, is here.We had our first class in the new library today. It was a very mixed bunch of juniors, a tiny class of 11 kids, a class that is technically the level below College Prep, which we call Regular, but which in fact is what used to be called Slow. They were coming in to get books for an independent reading project. One of them already had a copy of Siddhartha that she was reading. Others took various Young Adult novels, a little Stephen King, a little C.S. Lewis. A most interesting group, kind of boisterous and rollicking, but polite and friendly and fun. Not particularly slow that I could see.
I went to the Five Dollar store before to see if I could get some stocking stuffers for the girls, but other than Christmas socks (only $1 a pair), all I got was some stuff for me. No idea what I'm putting in their stockings this year, and really, how long do they get stuff in their Christmas stockings? My parents gave us Chanukah presents until we had our own children, and then they gave gifts to the children. I seem to recall that the ILs did something similar with stockings. Oy. I got years to go yet.
The other morning, I said Hello, how are ya? to someone in the faculty room and she said it to me and then we both just kind of shrugged and laughed. Then she told me that a doctor said to her once that if you're over 50 and you wake up in the morning and nothing hurts, it's because you're dead. I'm still chuckling over that one.
I went to ShopRite before, where I was the youngest customer by 30 years, an experience I am not eager to repeat. Is there something about Thursday afternoons? Is it the day the checks come? Anyway, each and every one of them was the only person in the store, or at least, they certainly seemed to think that they were. As for me, I picked up some frozen White Castle cheeseburgers for dinner, along with one of my all-time favorite horrible trashy foods to eat, Pop-Tarts. Oh my, do I love Pop-Tarts. (Damn! I was gonna get some Cap'n Crunch, too, and I forgot!) Something about not being in mortal belly pain anymore makes me just want to eat anything I can and want to get my hands on. I may have ... four White Castles. My personal best is seven, I believe, but I'm not going for a record or anything, and anyway, that was freshly made at an actual White Castle establishment. (At Thanksgiving, W. Niece's husband said that his personal White Castle best was 16, I believe. This is the guy who has Thanksgiving lunch at his aunt's house and then comes and has a full dinner with us. He can pack it away, boy. And he is very trim and lean, but was not as a kid, according to every picture I've seen. I digress.)
I went to Home Depot before to buy a new toilet seat. Now there's some scintillating news. I remember many years ago going to a Fortunoff's for the first time and they had a wall of unique and unusual toilet seats, and I thought it would be very cool to get one today that was purple, or polka-dotted or something, just to freak everyone out, but they pretty much had white and beige, round or elongated, take your pick. Not exciting.
Q is totally pestering me for food, and has been for 45 minutes, even though she's got a good 20 minutes to go before I feed her. One of the boys in the class today asked me if I had a cat, and when I said I did, asked if I went to such-and-such a vet, because he works there and he think he's seen me there. I said that he's probably been scratched by Q, if he works there, since she's gotten pretty much everybody at one time or another, and he grinned.
Okay, she's driving me batty. First some slop for her and then some nice little burgers for me.
