texas grind

San Antonio was sunny, busy, warmer than here, and one day, downright hot. I stayed on the River Walk, which is super touristy at night but quite pretty all the same. It almost manages to be the right kind of river for me. If only it was a little less Hard Rock Cafe and a little more Yuri Jazz Cafe, it would be perfect. I like the vines, the old stone, the arched bridges, the wrought iron. I like the precariousness of narrow, slippery paths dropping right off into the river (which seemed to me like a canal), combined with ample drinking places. Kind of European, or Asian, or any less litigious continent than mine.

I was not planning on going to the Alamo. Alamo, I thought - whatever. But when I told that to my dad, he acted like I had just said I was no longer going to pay taxes (although he doesn't seem to have let tax evasion affect his love of one Mr. Willie Nelson). So out of father-induced guilt, and because I basically stumbled right over it as I walked through a busy part of downtown, I did go. I asked the Alamo people how I could cut the hourlong audio tour into a much shorter time, and it seemed like they had been asked that before. Anyway, the first line of the audio tour was something like, "The biggest misconception about the battle at the Alamo is that it was part of a war between Mexico and the United States." I privately blushed a little then, and realized maybe I would actually learn something. And I did. But I'm not going to tell you what. You will have to google it, or go to the Alamo yourself.

I also went to a place called Mission San Jose, which was pretty. I saw wheat being ground into flour on a millstone. Jealous?

I had some trouble finding things that I could eat, so a few meals consisted of bloody marys.

I was taken to cool places, away from the tote-baggery of the teacher crowd that had landed en masse for the convention, by some friends of Alec and Mollie. They were so nice and interesting, and I got to see where people who live in San Antonio actually go.

My hotel had a snack bar called Muggs. I kept wishing that various members of the Detroit band the Muggs would be there. That would have made the whole trip so much more exciting and fun. I would have hung out around the lobby a lot more than I did. Plus, I am sure that Danny would have brewed me a mean cup of coffee.

Oh, I also went to a lot of conference sessions and got a lot of cool ideas and fresh inspiration for teaching. But that's not what you want to know about. You are all about the millstone...

bad dumb poem made while lying on my back, laptop on my stomach

Winter has descended.
I cannot feel my toes.
My glove is soaked in gasoline
from a leaky hose.

Don't want to pack a suitcase
or be a good fore-planner.
Just want to get to San Antone,
come back a little tanner.

Yeah, I'm going to San Antonio tomorrow. It is not a place I ever had any particular desire to go to, but now I'm excited to meander in a new place - any new place. It is for an education conference, and I am not paying for flight, hotel, or conference fee. The conference should be really good. Barbara Ehrenreich is one of the keynote speakers! But I can't think about the conference or which sessions I will go to; all I can focus on is the fact that it's going to be mid to high 70s and sunny. There is a pool at the hotel. Will I have time to sit by it? That, and will I find things to eat? Going out to eat has become not that fun to me. And it's Texas... (sorry, Jen).

It's only November - kind of early to be desperate to get to a warmer place. Also, it is already after 9, but I cannot seem to make myself pack. I'm either ahead or behind on all things, as always.

Our new national dish

OH MY GOD. I logged on all ready to explain about my lovely day and the nice food I made, and someone on the radio is talking about putting earthworms into a quiche in place of bacon. Umm... I know it's bad economic times, but are we really already at the Great Depression-esque eat-whatever-scurries (or slithers)-by point of the recession yet?

I also happen to have a very serious worm thing. I didn't think it was that bad until I read our new science curriculum and realized that we were going to have to keep worms in the classroom and do experiments and activities with them. Can you imagine? My coworkers said, "You just keep them in a jar with soil," and I was like, uh... jars are clear. That is a problem. Can't anyone else see that?

It leaked to my students that I hate worms, and they came in from recess the other day, which was rainy, saying, "We touched you FAVORITE animal today on the playground!" Of course I made them wash their wormy hands, but they definitely brought in the combined smells of a rainy day - wet leaves, rain, grass, mud, and worms.

What I was PLANNING to write about is that I haven't had a day like today in a long time, where I just wake up at my leisure, hang around in bed for awhile, make a big pot of coffee, and start a cooking project that will take a little while, because I don't really have anywhere to be. Isn't that nice? The past week was long and hard, due to conferences and a psychologically broken student. I had been wanting to try Heidi Swanson's cornmeal crunch recipe, but every evening was filled and there was never an hour to spare. Still, I could imagine exactly how it would taste and what it would be like to eat. And, oh my god. I was right. It is amazing. I want it to be available everywhere I go. Made with parchment paper instead of butter and flour on the baking dish, it is gluten free. I also left out the cheese, but I think it would be really good with it, too. I kind of want it to be our new national dish. It fits, right? It's inexpensive and wholesome, which is what people need. It's got that comfort food warmth and texture. You could top it with lots of different things, or dunk it, as she suggests. It seems like a perfect recession food. FAR superior to earthworms.

getting heavy, like the blanket of smoke at the new way bar

I tried to go to bed early, but it didn't quite work. I swear I still smell the smoke from the bar last night, even though I have taken TWO showers to get it off me and washed the clothes I wore. I think I may have sat on my bed before taking the clothes off, and that small contact must have transferred the smell to my bedding. When, oh WHEN will Michigan get that public places smoking ban in place? Last Tuesday, voters passed medical mary jane and stem cell research proposals, after all. The smoking thing seems relatively easy. I really liked the bands I saw last night, and despite being spooked by a possible psychopath or sociopath and ending up being accidentally alone at the show with a whole bunch of youngsters, I had a great time. The youngsters seemed to accept me into their fold. It was just the damn smoke that makes me feel like I never want to go to another show again.

I continue to get emails, invitations to various online networks, etc. from a guy I went out with ONCE last fall. At the time, it was immediately obvious to me that I just had to get through the date politely and then I would never have to deal with him again. It was originally an aesthetic turn-off, which made me feel shallow, but it quickly turned into a total personality revulsion. He was clingy, needy, and totally inappropriate in his "feelings" for me after ONE MEETING. It was ridiculous, and I was very clear that I was not at all interested.

This week I have gotten an invitation to his flickr page, another bullshit invite that I can't remember now because I deleted it (oh, after googling myself just now I see it was an invitation to be his friend on amafuckingzon.com), and an email titled Halloween, which I haven't opened. I have gotten several other emails over the last months, and I just don't even open them, but clearly this is a person who cannot take hints? I should probably just respond with a "fuck off," but I don't want to engage the crazy, I guess. I have tried to remove all traces of myself from the internet and managed to make my flickr and some other things stop showing up, but I can't figure out how to disable my amazon profile (even though it's got no information in it, it still shows up). And I have a facebook page that he has tried to contact me through, but he can't get past the basic page or look at my (less than ten) friends.

I know this is not the kind of thing I usually write about, but it is seriously upsetting me. What kind of loser just keeps sending missives out into the ether even though the person not only never acknowledges them, but removes evidence of herself as a result? Does he think he is going to wear me down or something? Twisted.

I am actually paranoid about internet dating because I'm afraid he would be on there posing as someone else! That is very telling of my level of anxiety, huh?

Also, if you google me (try it!), he comes up as the second hit for friending me on my amazon page. Nice, huh? Love that my workplace also shows up there. Ugh. Why can't I have a name like "Mary Smith?" My combination of first and last are unique, according to google...

important lesson

Right now I'm wondering about skinny jeans, and if there is any kind of law about me wearing them or not.

Also, I am enjoying reflecting on this moment at school today, as students were grappling with the economic concept of goods vs. services:

Me: "Well, services are things like getting your car washed. Or having someone cut your lawn. I would hate having to cut a lawn, if I had one. I live in an apartment, so I don't have a lawn. Or, some people get their nails done, and that's a service. Obviously, I don't (holds up hands for all to inspect)."

God, why didn't I just go on with things like, "Obviously, your moms all have personal trainers or tennis coaches and I don't. Check out this flab! And your parents probably have financial advisors. I pretty much just let whatever happen with my money, since there is so little of it. Oh, but I do have a real estate agent. That's a service! Of course, I'm trying to only look at things under $90,000. Your houses cost at least five times that, if not more! But it's cool. At least my preferred candidate won the election"

Then we all would have shared a large, deeply unflattering belly laugh, they would have advised me to never wear skinny jeans, and I would have totally agreed.

Instead, here I am, still not sure.

Conspiratorial angst

Why did I get an email from John McCain just now, asking me to vote for him? Considering that all my monetary gifts go to Planned Parenthood, I don't really know where his campaign may have gotten hold of me as a potential love interest.

I am really scared about tomorrow. I'm glad I don't have to go to work; school will be used for voting. I would be unable to focus or maintain the neutral political stance required by my job. I'm just really scared that bad shit is going to go down, and it won't matter how people actually vote. I'm in a conspiratorial place.

I wish I had something good to eat right now. I have nothing. good. to. eat. in my home, ever. I should change that, maybe. No, wait. I am all twisted up with nerves. I couldn't eat even if I had something good, like almond-stuffed olives, guacamole, and/or fresh vegetarian grape leaves with pine nut hummus. Well, maybe I could eat the grape leaves. Yeah, I probably could.

Ohio Power

I think we should have set the clock back 25 hours instead of one. I could have used a whole extra day this weekend. I say this as I survey my surroundings, which have somehow erupted into chaos when I wasn't looking. I have laundry that i haven't put away yet, half-graded papers strewn around, and the components of my Halloween costume on the floor. I was the Statue of Liberty at school (and then slutty Statue of Liberty that night). (Just kidding, but I kind of like the idea). I was a hit with children and adults alike. Apparently no one could tell the difference between me and the actual SoL, it was so realistic. It's amazing what a nicely draped sheet can do.

Instead of tidying all this up, I went to my nephew's championship football game. They got to play under the lights because it was already dark. It was also super cold. I got confirmation of something I already suspected: Something in my brain refuses to understand the rules of football. Something with claws will not let go of my unwillingness to understand it. Mostly I just did funny hairstyles on my niece and occasionally was reminded (usually by an obnoxious parent) that a game was in progress. I realized at some point, too, that all of the players who were acting all tough on the field were going to be going home in car seats. Did I mention that they are first graders?! Anyway, my neph's team won, I am pleased to report.

Has anyone heard the new Pretenders? I love the idea of it - the Pretenders do country - and I also love that they recorded it in Chrissie Hynde's hometown of Akron. It does an Ohio girl's heart proud. Dave Grohl just had a street named after him in my hometown. His hometown is my hometown. Ohio power, everyone. Ohio power.

dazed and confused

I went to the Hentchmen show tonight. They have been playing for 16 years, and I have been watching them for most of those. I wore boots of questionable sluttiness to mark the occasion. I was happy to see that hardcore Hentch fans Long Haired Guy and Old, Jean Jacket Guy were there, too.

On the way home, after dropping Alice off, I found Dazed and Confused on the radio. If there was an all Led Zeppelin station, I would be happy (except when Fool in the Rain or whatever it's called came on; then I'd have to change the station). Anyway, I was rocking out to Dazed and Confused, and didn't realize until it was too late that a Who song came on next. It turns out that I had listened to quite a lot of the Who song before realizing it. The thing is, I hate the Who, and I always have. Really, I just had gotten to thinking about other things, but nonetheless it made me feel like I had lost my ability to discern between things that I do and do not like. I feel like that happens to people as they get older. I am not ready to accidentally like the Who yet.

I feel like you need to see what my bedroom walls looked like when I was a kid (above). Maybe it's because I am in house-buying mode; I am all pre-approved and ready to go. Soon I will have chosen a house, and will only have to decide things like, "should I replicate the walls of my youth?"