Dear Readers:
Hello!
I know it is Tuesday. I can tell you first off that it was my intention to post a blog on Monday. I had time all weekend to think about the subject matter of my blog and I believe it is a good one. You might be wondering why I am blogging after midnight (sorry, Monday...). I bet you are dying to know why.
Here is the running list of Why My Monday Blog is being Written on Tuesday:
1. I woke up this morning after a fitful sleep and could not find my laptop.
2. Since I wasted time looking for my laptop, I was rushing and dressed like a pauper with an attitude. (A poor attitude)
3. Once I got to work, I was informed that a teacher flew the coop.
4. My class was completely thrown off by the antics of the runaway teacher.
5. #3 & #4 caused complete chaos.
6. One of my favorite kids lost the title of Best Boy Note Taker and burst into tears, causing me to create a new title, Best Boy Reader. (only after he read me Silly Sally)
7. A new student decided to decorate her book cover with easter egg grass. Don't ask me where she found that shit.
8. I convinced the Best Boy Reader to walk carefully to lunch as he was my personal walker and should I fall, I would most certainly turn to dust.
9. I was offered (ie informed) that I would be absorbing the runaway teacher's students.
10. I arrived to grad class and realized that I actually was unable to read a week's worth of assignments in fifteen minutes.
11. I lost five hours of my life sitting in a grad class.
12. I arrived home to the suspects: a messy home and a lazy band of teenage pirates.
13. I cooked a gourmet meal for said pirates and devoured a chik'n patty off a fork (yes while standing).
14. I nearly drowned from exhaustion in the shower.
15. I cleared my bed (from Operation Throw Everything and Find that GODDAMN Laptop) and set up my lesson planning space. Did I mention I am teaching math and english now?
16. I sat for a moment contemplating my life. (approximately 9min)
17. At 10:30, I crawled into bed with a virgin margarita and started lesson planning for not just my 3rd & 4th graders, but the another teacher's 1st & 2nd graders.
18. Paid $20 for a subscription to a education site. Apparentely it is what ALL the teachers do. Funny, how no one thought to share their password.
19. At midnight I was done, or at least felt down with all the writing, swearing and tooth sucking that had transpired.
20. Decided that I would blog, AS it was the only thing that I really looked forward to for Monday, now Tuesday.
Dear Readers, that list is as detailed as I can recall. Note the as I can recall disclaimer...there was way more. Whatever, right?
Another disclaimer: There is no way in hell I am proofreading this blog. Please take it as is...especially since I have to be up and raring to go in about 6hrs.
Well my blog was about fairness, equality, yada yada.
Unfortunately, my eyes are burning and my heart is kind of oh I don't know, disappointed. Glory to Being Lola! (Morgan Freeman voice) As if that is a surprise. I thought I would get a phone call/text and that didn't come. Apparently silence is the approved method of communication for people who are too reflective to actually say a word.
As a blogger, I understand the reflection, but silence is kind of on the spectrum of dumb. Well maybe not dumb...but since I have not heard otherwise, I deduct as much.
All I know is when a conversation is broached, all parties should be involved in the give and take. Perhaps the conversation has been had with another party and I just missed my invite as I spent another Monday saving the free world.
So I don't really have anything pressing to add to the subject matter of fairness and equality. I mean I can say that it never feels good to be the last to know.
When something involves me, I deserve the same as all others. Perhaps the something simply does not involve me. Maybe I missed something.
You saw my list. It won't be the first time that I miss something. Folk stay telling me that I am missing the point. I don't really know what point because the minute I think I have the point, the point goes dull and there is another point that lo and behold, I missed.
Perhaps my path is too hectic for all this extra.
Last thought, I am rather furious that it is 12:34am and I still have not heard a peep from this phone. Dear Readers, I leave with the age old thought:
You never know what you had until it is gone.
I'm gone for now, but I will communicate with you all soon. I won't just leave you hanging and speculating and eye rolling and tooth sucking and whatnots...
That was a huge run-on sentence. (Damn the devil and cue the waah wah waaaaah)
I am a teacher and I approve this blog.
A simple start,
Lola
Monday, July 9, 2012
Tuesday, July 3, 2012
This Is The Worst Time To Blog
Dear Readers:
My mind and my heart are going in a million directions. I find that I am feeling one thing and saying another...saying one thing and feeling another. It is at the very least exhausting. I can't say to much because then I WILL SAY TOO MUCH. How exhausting is that?
There is no real answer. If Alice In Wonderland were I...ok, see I am not making any sense.
So why blog?
Why not?
Blogging centers me. It helps me to put things in prospective. It makes me happy, sometimes.
When I was younger, and I felt really sad, I always did the same thing. I knew that I would feel better if I cried. I was way ahead of the crowd. How many preteens know that tears make things all better? Maybe they do now, but I didn't have Pretty Little Liars. You don't learn to cry from Charles In Charge. Anyway.
I would go upstairs and lock myself in the bathroom with my tape player. I would turn off the overhead lights, because sometimes my Papa had McGruber'ed a light bulb near the mirror. I would turn on that bulb and set my tape to play Eric Carmen's All By Myself. I don't think anything else was on that tape. I recorded the song from Z100. I would put that song on, look in the mirror at my flushed cheeks and hope for answers. I would sing along with Eric and sure enough, I would start crying.
If you ever want to see something pathetic, watch a 12 year old sing along to a Eric Carmen while looking into a warped mirror with the aid of a naked light bulb.
That song still gets me. Just thinking about the lyrics, I feel sad for Eric and myself. I feel sad for twelve year old Christine, way before she ever became Lola. I think about the things that made me sad then, I don't really remember because I am sure that they are small potatoes at this point. Actually, I am sure that they were really important, those Sad Makers. They were just important to me then.
The Sad Makers now are also important. I know the power of a good cry. However, now as an adult (what a killjoy) I know that tears are powerful but they don't really do anything for the problem at hand. They handle all the physical manifestations of unhappiness. By physical, I mean that choked up, hot, heavy weepy feel. Tears generally relieve that pressure. However....
They don't really fix the problem, which is a BIGGER PROBLEM, because I am not 100% sure of what the problem is.
I know what I want.
I know what to do to get it, or some semblance of it.
I don't know if I am up for the job.
Everything takes work. I know this. The last year of The Life of Lola has been exhausting. My God, I don't want to complain. Many great things happened at a cost. That sounds like a complaint.
I should just shut the f%#$ up and go off to some quiet corner and f%#$ myself.
What is alarming is that this laptop is totally unreliable.
I am on a thin line between No and Oh Hell No and if this laptop dies on me.....
You know what, the issue is that I have no one to talk to, rather no one that I care to hear an opinion from so I just write. I just write and permanently air my shit out here. You can read or not read, you can even offer advice, but there is no pressure because I am not asking.
How can I ask for advice when I don't even know what I need?
I am tired of this new level of self-awareness. I kind of miss being oblivious. Sometimes people consider me naive. That would be such a treat. On the contrary, I am so damn aware.
I was this way at twelve, before I became Lola. I am this way now. I will probably be this way at forty...ie The Dawn of Change.
I swear that I won't feel this confused and discombobulated at forty, but who knows? I said the same shit at the following ages:
18 talking about 20
25 talking about 30
31 talking and 35
and now 36 talking about 40
Each time I get closer to an answer, I think because I become more aware of my life ending. I don't want my life to end on this note. I don't want to take my last breath wondering what if, swearing at the why...
I can't say I am near my last breath. I mean for the most part I eat right and take great care of my health. However, I can say beyond a shadow of a doubt that if something should cause my demise, and I be aware of it, I will have some damning thoughts.
How does a person live life to the fullest? There is so much that I need to do, and eventually someone to do it with. I mean, it is possible to do things on my own. For the most part, I do things on my own. I would like someone to share things with.
Today for instance, we wore moustaches in an Italian restaurant. At the time I joked that it could be crossed off my bucket list. It was not REALLY on my bucket list, but I feel like it has gained the notoriety.
Whatever.
I think so much. I feel so much. How do the shallow do it? There are people out there, by their actions I concur that they don't feel nearly as much as I do. That seems so simplified.
How do the YOLO people do it? So during my sabbatical from work I have become really learned in hip hop and YOLO is a catchy song. You only live once, that's the motto of YOLO....lol. There is no LOL in the song, but I laughed the first time I caught myself singing along.
Maybe I need to write a list. I am not really a list person. My ex loooooooves lists. In fact the ex before her did too....as does the person I am seeing now. Sheesh...what is it about me that attracts List Makers?
Trust me, I am not someone who works well with a List Maker. They loooove plans, I can't say that I do. I think that I give them relieve from their hectic lives....kind of like Aruba. No one wants to stay in Aruba forever. Trust me, they don't.
Again...this is the worst time to blog. It is the worst because I have so much to say, so little to resolve, and no one to talk to, really, without just digging my own hole.
I have dug myself into such a ditch as it is.
Perhaps I can just be content that this is my life and I need to plan for my next one. I want to believe in reincarnation because I have screwed up so much of my past thirty-six years.
Please don't tell me to start now. Better living is just like changing your eating habits. It is not enough to go on a diet. It is all or nothing.
Right now I am not ready for all or nothing.
I don't know what I want. Well I do.
I know that it is unattainable. Maybe I am being stubborn.
I am not afraid of the unknown. I said I don't make lists, shoot MY EVERY MOMENT IS THE UNKNOWN.
LOL.
I am just tired and I don't want to give up.
Again..this is the worst time to blog. It is too late. I have a long day tomorrow.
Not only do I have an emotion for every occasion, I have an excuse to weather the emotion.
Wow.
Did I waste your time? I am sorry. Let me promise to you and myself, Dear Readers, that the next time it is The Worst Time to Blog that I stay the fuck away from the keys.
A Simple Start,
Lola
My mind and my heart are going in a million directions. I find that I am feeling one thing and saying another...saying one thing and feeling another. It is at the very least exhausting. I can't say to much because then I WILL SAY TOO MUCH. How exhausting is that?
There is no real answer. If Alice In Wonderland were I...ok, see I am not making any sense.
So why blog?
Why not?
Blogging centers me. It helps me to put things in prospective. It makes me happy, sometimes.
When I was younger, and I felt really sad, I always did the same thing. I knew that I would feel better if I cried. I was way ahead of the crowd. How many preteens know that tears make things all better? Maybe they do now, but I didn't have Pretty Little Liars. You don't learn to cry from Charles In Charge. Anyway.
I would go upstairs and lock myself in the bathroom with my tape player. I would turn off the overhead lights, because sometimes my Papa had McGruber'ed a light bulb near the mirror. I would turn on that bulb and set my tape to play Eric Carmen's All By Myself. I don't think anything else was on that tape. I recorded the song from Z100. I would put that song on, look in the mirror at my flushed cheeks and hope for answers. I would sing along with Eric and sure enough, I would start crying.
If you ever want to see something pathetic, watch a 12 year old sing along to a Eric Carmen while looking into a warped mirror with the aid of a naked light bulb.
That song still gets me. Just thinking about the lyrics, I feel sad for Eric and myself. I feel sad for twelve year old Christine, way before she ever became Lola. I think about the things that made me sad then, I don't really remember because I am sure that they are small potatoes at this point. Actually, I am sure that they were really important, those Sad Makers. They were just important to me then.
The Sad Makers now are also important. I know the power of a good cry. However, now as an adult (what a killjoy) I know that tears are powerful but they don't really do anything for the problem at hand. They handle all the physical manifestations of unhappiness. By physical, I mean that choked up, hot, heavy weepy feel. Tears generally relieve that pressure. However....
They don't really fix the problem, which is a BIGGER PROBLEM, because I am not 100% sure of what the problem is.
I know what I want.
I know what to do to get it, or some semblance of it.
I don't know if I am up for the job.
Everything takes work. I know this. The last year of The Life of Lola has been exhausting. My God, I don't want to complain. Many great things happened at a cost. That sounds like a complaint.
I should just shut the f%#$ up and go off to some quiet corner and f%#$ myself.
What is alarming is that this laptop is totally unreliable.
I am on a thin line between No and Oh Hell No and if this laptop dies on me.....
You know what, the issue is that I have no one to talk to, rather no one that I care to hear an opinion from so I just write. I just write and permanently air my shit out here. You can read or not read, you can even offer advice, but there is no pressure because I am not asking.
How can I ask for advice when I don't even know what I need?
I am tired of this new level of self-awareness. I kind of miss being oblivious. Sometimes people consider me naive. That would be such a treat. On the contrary, I am so damn aware.
I was this way at twelve, before I became Lola. I am this way now. I will probably be this way at forty...ie The Dawn of Change.
I swear that I won't feel this confused and discombobulated at forty, but who knows? I said the same shit at the following ages:
18 talking about 20
25 talking about 30
31 talking and 35
and now 36 talking about 40
Each time I get closer to an answer, I think because I become more aware of my life ending. I don't want my life to end on this note. I don't want to take my last breath wondering what if, swearing at the why...
I can't say I am near my last breath. I mean for the most part I eat right and take great care of my health. However, I can say beyond a shadow of a doubt that if something should cause my demise, and I be aware of it, I will have some damning thoughts.
How does a person live life to the fullest? There is so much that I need to do, and eventually someone to do it with. I mean, it is possible to do things on my own. For the most part, I do things on my own. I would like someone to share things with.
Today for instance, we wore moustaches in an Italian restaurant. At the time I joked that it could be crossed off my bucket list. It was not REALLY on my bucket list, but I feel like it has gained the notoriety.
Whatever.
I think so much. I feel so much. How do the shallow do it? There are people out there, by their actions I concur that they don't feel nearly as much as I do. That seems so simplified.
How do the YOLO people do it? So during my sabbatical from work I have become really learned in hip hop and YOLO is a catchy song. You only live once, that's the motto of YOLO....lol. There is no LOL in the song, but I laughed the first time I caught myself singing along.
Maybe I need to write a list. I am not really a list person. My ex loooooooves lists. In fact the ex before her did too....as does the person I am seeing now. Sheesh...what is it about me that attracts List Makers?
Trust me, I am not someone who works well with a List Maker. They loooove plans, I can't say that I do. I think that I give them relieve from their hectic lives....kind of like Aruba. No one wants to stay in Aruba forever. Trust me, they don't.
Again...this is the worst time to blog. It is the worst because I have so much to say, so little to resolve, and no one to talk to, really, without just digging my own hole.
I have dug myself into such a ditch as it is.
Perhaps I can just be content that this is my life and I need to plan for my next one. I want to believe in reincarnation because I have screwed up so much of my past thirty-six years.
Please don't tell me to start now. Better living is just like changing your eating habits. It is not enough to go on a diet. It is all or nothing.
Right now I am not ready for all or nothing.
I don't know what I want. Well I do.
I know that it is unattainable. Maybe I am being stubborn.
I am not afraid of the unknown. I said I don't make lists, shoot MY EVERY MOMENT IS THE UNKNOWN.
LOL.
I am just tired and I don't want to give up.
Again..this is the worst time to blog. It is too late. I have a long day tomorrow.
Not only do I have an emotion for every occasion, I have an excuse to weather the emotion.
Wow.
Did I waste your time? I am sorry. Let me promise to you and myself, Dear Readers, that the next time it is The Worst Time to Blog that I stay the fuck away from the keys.
A Simple Start,
Lola
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