Wooo Hooo...

or, how to make a short story long.

Let me tell you ladies about my day. I was totally stoked to put my national boards box in the mail. In it is all the work I've done to get my certification. Hours and hours and hours. Seriously, alone, the box took like 3 hours to pack. There are 4 entries each with their own envelop an packing list and then a 5th envelop for all the forms, I mean really, you have to verify that all the packing lists are where they need to be right?

But it was done. I went to the post office annex place inside the shell station, which is much less sketchy than it sounds and happily gave my well taped box to the happy little man. He was worried that the pre-printed label which was ON THE BOX would be too hard to see and pulled out a sharpie in order to make it more visible, hey great no problem. Then he flips the box over and proceeds to CROSS OUT the pre-printed, specially placed very important bar code stickers. My number (02701156) had been put on the 73-ish pages of then entry over and over again and needed to match the box. And he crossed it out. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

I stopped breathing and was like "wait, no, stop." I took the box back out to the car, calmly looked for the help number on the box and in my NBCT stuff then started hyperventilating. No phone number. I drive home. Open the door and immediately smell shit. I'm greeted by two dogs, Sam and Ru. I'm dog sitting. I look around and see a few small piles of poop. Weird, it's sure stinky, I think to myself. I grimace and attempt to wipe it up. Then upon further examination find a literal cascade of shit going all the way down the stairs. There was a definite problem earlier today, and while both dogs appear fine, at one point in time one of them was NOT alright.

Now, I'm trying to prioritize. I mean, there is crap all over my house but a box that I really, really want to put in the mail, like now. I decide to clean. It takes comet, plastic bags doubling for rubber gloves and at least 3 of my rattiest kitchen towls before I feel like it might be okay.

Back to the first issue, the box. I find the number and explain the predicament to the lady on the phone, "I've got a problem. My box is ready to be shipped. Literally, sealed and in the hands of the post office guy and before I could stop him, he crossed out all the labels. And then I stopped breathing. What do I do?"

"Well, you can start by breathing again." At this point I feel relieved but am so keyed up I start to cry just a bit. She explains that while she also would have wanted to kill him, they open every box and because each envelop is labeled, all the information will go to the right place. It will be okay, it has happened before.

But, not to me. I trusted her, put the dogs in the car and went back to the post office annex. the guy was very apologetic (good thing) and I put it in the mail. My house doesn't even smell like poop and my portfolio is now left to stand alone... either it will or it won't. I've done my part.

my yard is no longer...

a blight on the neighboorhood. Or at least, not the front yard. (I'm the only one who can see the back.) I mowed, weeded, pruned and spread beautiful dark compost. I looked up to see, a few houses down, my neigboors, the whole family in the yard. The adults were sitting in lawn chair, the maybe 6th grade girl intent on her task, washing the car.

"Hey," I called down the street, "It looks like you got a pretty good gig going on there."

Mary Anne laughed, "She's our slave."

"I am not," The car washer paused long enough to protest, then resumed her work.

"How do I get me one of those?"

"Well," he said, "You just push that little button and wait."

"I'll keep that in mind."

Hmmmm, what button? and where? and probably most importantly, whose?

friday evening, drunk-ish

things i'm happy about right this minute:
1. beer
2. basketball although I don't have, nor do I want a bracket
3. disk 1 season 1 of castle. i heart nathan fillion
4. my job
5. friendships that aren't quite what you ever expected
6. sunshine
7. The Once and Future King....better the 12th time I've started it.
8. the mutt
9. that I think I get to work in my yard this weekend because....
10. I'm almost done with my national boards

sunday evening drunk-ish

Buzzed would be a better descriptor. But, either way, I've consumed enough alcohol that the national boards I had planned on aren't happening. This was not a productive weekend. I think it should still be okay; I have 17 days.

A good friend came over and we sat in front of the window and drank beer and talked about all sorts of stuff. I know this girl from high school. She was living in Portland when I first moved out here and she has subsequently moved back to Eastern Washington as she waits for word about grad school. Now, seeing her is a rare treat. As we were talking I mentioned that sometime in high school it became important to me to have a wide variety of friends...and mentioned that the friendship I formed with her, probably junior year, was evidence of that. She is artsy and liberal and free spirited and intellectual in a different way than anyone I had ever been friends with (not that my friends did not posses those characteristics but she is different).

This need for diversity has stayed with me, maybe as evidence of my own sometimes fractured sense of self, but really as a means of self preservation. I always had options, different groups of friends let me express a wider variety of my own personality than I felt comfortable exposing to just one person or group. Probably, it is insecurity but there was always something a bit liberating about letting different parts of my personality out in different situations. Maybe that way I don't get bored of myself...

From Wednesday's Pep Assembly

Quote of the hour:

"If the goat comes into the gym, the juniors will be disqualified."

Oh, I know you're jealous YOU don't work in a high school.

silly follow up, super quick post, about nothing deep

A few weeks ago I mentioned the Disney movie, The Princess and the Frog, my brother and I almost saw it but we needed food more than entertainment. Yesterday, at his suggestion (there were slim pickings at the cheap theater) we did see it...and while this is a silly place to talk about it, it was a wonderful break from my 4 hour National Board filled Sunday. While it was true that we were the only people in the theater over 16 without children of our own. It could easily be my favorite Disney princess movie...jazz, voodoo, singing alligators, and a Creole firefly who's in love with a star....um, it was a pretty genius plot line. Really, besides Up, it's the best kids movie I've seen in years.

South Texas picture post #3

It's called a caracara.











We took this picture along the coleche road on the way to the Laguna Atascosa National Wildlife Refuge. It is amazing. We saw alligators, and flowering yuccas, and birds, and it smelled like heat and south Texas. But, as it was early February, it was like getting Texas-lite. You knew what it felt like but didn't have it attacking you... besides, in the summer you never see the alligators.

poor timing but a positive outlook

So, it occurs to me that I shouldn't have put forth a huge writing intensive goal (this blog) when the other goal I am currently buried in (National Boards) is also huge and writing intensive. National Boards is currently winning the battle of time and intellectual bandwidth. I am making good progress but it will be another month until I can re-focus my energies here. But, here is the thought that pushed me through the weekend and past a huge diaster of a taping session....sometimes it takes a massive failure and good friends to mitigate the ensuing mess to put things back in perspective. I feel, finally, that I might actually pass. I'm not sure, but I'm no longer convinced I will fail.