February 20

12:36pm

Well, it is after midnight, and Roomie and I have just returned from the Miami adventure. The sixty degree temperature change was a lot less fun in reverse, but overall we had an amazing trip filled with palm trees, sunburns, Tequila, a 911 call made at 1:30 am to report a crime at our sketchy hotel, and boys. More on all that later.

So I walk in the door a half hour ago ready for a shower (nothing makes me feel grosser than a plane). I start the water and get in. My hair is halfway wet when all of a sudden a huge cockroach runs out from the folds of the shower curtain at my feet. I screamed, jumped backwards into the shower shelf (knocking over everything precariously perched on it) and ran out into the hallway.

We don’t see cockroaches often, but Sam once mentioned to me that if you see one cockroach it means there are 100 more living in the walls. Is this true? If so, maybe don’t tell me. I cant afford to move. Anyway, Roomie and I have seen about 5 in our two years of living here, and we are 5/5 at killing the supposedly invincible beasts. Thus far, we have…

  1. Drowned one in the sink
  2. Trapped one under a plastic bowl and left it there until it suffocated
  3. Sicced The Cat on one (who somehow killed and ate it despite having no teeth)
  4. Smashed one by waiting for it to run out from beneath the sofa and dropping one of our students textbooks on it

And now…

5. Sprayed one repeatedly with a mixture of bleach and carpet cleaner until its legs stopped moving

Now I am in my bed with my hair half wet and I’m just gonna sleep like this. The shower mood has been ruined.  Nothing says welcome back to Brooklyn like vanquishing a cockroach in a towel.

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February 10

8:19pm

I sometimes feel as if I am the only woman in America who has not read Fifty Shades of Grey. With the movie coming out it seems to be all anyone talks about. My little freaking sister has read it, and I want nothing to do with it. Does this mean I am not normal? Does this mean I am boring and bad at sex??

I don’t know, but this is the funniest thing I’ve seen today. Enjoy.

Three more days of work before Miami. Lately, work hasn’t been too bad, though. Everyone is in a post-quality review stupor.  I’ve been teaching chemical and physical changes to the kids, which means lighting things on fire and calling it science. Try this at your next party: take a dollar bill, dip it in water, and then dip it in isopropyl alcohol. You can light it on fire and the isopropyl alcohol will burn right off and turn a really cool color, leaving you with a mostly unharmed but soaking wet dollar. I can promise you that your dollar bill will be okay at least 70% of the time… and if not, singed money is still money.

At least i didn’t mess up the $20 I tried on a dare.

In other news, Roomie and Friend-from-home (let’s call her Izzy) and I have all been prepping for Miami by attempting to drink a gallon of water a day. This goal was born after I read an article from an internet source of dubious reliability that promises more water equals beautiful skin and a flatter tummy. It is now after 8:30pm.  I still have at least 40 ounces left. I consumed most of my water today during my second period prep, and then I had to teach four in a row with a full-to-bursting bladder. I have peed a dozen times and I have a new zit blooming on my chin. Additionally, I ate butter and noodles for dinner. I should just accept that I will not be quite to Karlie Kloss standards for Miami and begin again effective tomorrow.

Doorbell has been ringing intermittently for the past minute and a half. Am reluctant to go answer because last time doorbell went off this much it was Roomie’s ex. What if he is back? She is in bed fragile with a migraine. Maybe it will be one of my exes (hopefully a good one) coming to tearfully reunite with me.


8:47pm

Was delivery food for downstairs neighbor, they had the wrong bell. Que sera sera. Someday, my prince will come.

 

February 5

4:37pm

Have just finished destroying my kitchen in the name of education. My students have complained that we don’t do enough hands on activities (we do as many as I can! they’re expensive!), and since we are doing states of matter right now I thought I might as well show them Oobleck. Oobleck is a non-Newtonian fluid, which means it does not obey the normal laws of Physics. It is cheaply made using cornstarch and water, but for having only two ingredients it is messy as hell.

I was originally going to let my children make the Oobleck in the classroom. I was saved from this by a naptime vision of the bell ringing and my next class coming in to find mass anarchy and cornstarch everywhere. I decided to make the Oobleck myself. This decision has rendered my freshly purchased and non-returnable $30 dollars of measuring spoons and bowls effectively useless. I originally was going to make one big bowl of Oobleck, but then realized that, being a non-Newtonian fluid, scooping it out to distribute it would be quite difficult.

Therefore, I threw myself on the mercy of the Japanese women at my local sushi restaurant for takeout soup bowls. I spun them a sob story about the state of education in Brooklyn and wailed I would buy ten miso soups if I had to. They looked at me like I was insane and gave em to me for three bucks. A bargain.

This became my kitchen:

Oobleck assembly line.

Oobleck assembly line.

Then, The Cat sensed she was not the center of attention. She grew distressed. She emerged from her lair under Roomie’s bed and came to investigate.

Deceptively cute even when covered in cornstarch.

Deceptively cute even when covered in cornstarch.

Now, hours later, I have neatly assembled eight bowls of Oobleck, ready for my kids to wreak havoc with tomorrow. I actually wrote on the worksheet that they were not allowed to…

  • Eat the Oobleck
  • Put the Oobleck on another student’s hair or clothing
  • Put the Oobleck near another student’s hair or clothing
  • Throw the Oobleck
  • Rub the Oobleck on their faces
  • Put foreign objects into the Oobleck

I think I closed most of the more disastrous loopholes, but I have no doubt they will find whatever loopholes are left.


5:32pm

Have been cleaning up my kitchen and lost track of time. Have second date with Likes to Talk at 7:30. We are going to Chinatown for soup dumplings. Everybody who knows me finds the idea of me eating soup dumplings hilarious. I am extraordinarily clumsy and awkward and have never eaten such a thing but have heard they are large and messy and exactly what they sound like.

This picture comes from an article entitled "How to Eat a Soup Dumpling." The fact that this article exists is not reassuring.

This picture comes from an article entitled “How to Eat a Soup Dumpling.” The fact that this article exists is not reassuring.

It is basically a pocket of boiling water, what could go wrong? I really hope they aren’t spicy. I don’t do spicy.

Having lost track of time, I am now in the unpleasant but common-for-me situation of having to choose between dirty straight hair or clean curly hair. My hair does not curl nicely naturally and without a curling iron. It forms a halo of frizz around my head unless I put on enough gel, and then it is crunchy. I am polling my friends and kicking myself for not having time for clean straight hair which is obviously the best option.


5:58pm

Roomie said curly/clean but after I already got my head wet Sister finally texted back and said dirty/straight because boys don’t notice dirty hair. Emotional turmoil. Maybe the soup dumplings will distract him from my hair.

January 13

7:19pm

Did you know that if you get hot pepper in your eye the best remedy is milk?

These are things we are finding out in our apartment tonight.

I was sitting on my bed eating some corn after the gym (two days in a row! I know!) when all of a sudden Roomie starts howling in pain from the kitchen. She’s as terrible as a cook as me, which makes me think she has amputated her hand or similar. Rushed to her aid and she is hysterically screaming and crying because I guess she got juice from a hot pepper in her eye and the whole side of her face was on fire. This kind of pepper was the super super hot variety, evidently, a few million Scoville units past anything I could handle. I danced around for a few minutes because I didn’t know how to help her so finally I went to Google remedies.

Five minutes later she was laying on the floor of our living room while I poured whole milk into her eye and The Cat judged us from a corner.

It’s no wonder we’re single to be quite honest.


8:22pm

Firing up the egg cooker again. Karlie Kloss probably eats egg whites all the time. A dozen a day. No nachos tonight. I already brushed my teeth to avoid temptation of eating anything else but it will probably not work if I had to guess.

Waiting to speak to a promising OkCupid boy, who has asked if he can call me (which my friends think is odd and not in line with standard protocol). We started texting last night and he seems very sweet — he described his teenage sister as “beautiful and complex” and asked lots of nice questions to me. From extensive internet stalking (oh, right, they can see when you look at their LinkedIn) I have deduced that he is considerably taller than me and has a nice smile. I’m coming around to the idea of a phone call because I will be able to tell if he has an effeminate voice or not without having to put on makeup and go sit in a dive bar for two hours.

It is 8:30. Obviously I have other fabulous plans, I am not simply sitting in my apartment tonight awaiting phone calls from mysterious strangers. Also, it doesn’t do to call after 9, I learned this in manners school. Tick tock my dear.

 

January 12

8:06pm

Bumming around in my jams waiting for the Ohio State-Oregon game to start. My next door neighbor growing up is now a fairly well known football player for Oregon, and he was able to get my family really good seats. They’re all in Dallas cheering for him and Ohio State (Grandpa was a buckeye). I am heading up the NYC branch of our strange dual-loyalty fan club.

This weekend was good but also not. I hung out with the Roomies of Sam. I got to be really good friends with them when I was dating Sam, but now it’s like even when I hang out with just them he’s there, like a ghost. He’s still at the very edges of my life. I cannot separate them from him. I wish I could. I drunk texted him saying I wished I could.  As a result of all of this I felt really miserable after a fun evening with friends.

I drunk texted all my exes that night, to be quite honest. The only one who responded was the one who owns his own helicopter so I suppose it could be worse.

I have now been to the gym twice since January 1st. Today I went to find that my Pilates teacher of last summer has been replaced by a pair of scarily athletic Russians who screamed at me for being weak. Only one month and two days until I have to look hot in a bikini and here I am eating my way through a box of Russell Stover my student got me for Christmas.

In other news, I am currently messaging two cute guys on OkCupid, but am nervous to meet up with them due to aforementioned “everyone on OkCupid has some dealbreaking flaw that is not immediately apparent from internet conversation” thing. The memory of Miley Cyrus Voice, Eyes-Too-Close-Together, and The Shorty is too fresh. We’ll see. I imagine I’ll crack and meet up with one or both this week. I’m bored. I’m thinking one might be slightly effeminate in person, but the other one has real potential.

These are the updates from Brooklyn.


 

8:31pm

Ate a filling, healthy meal of salmon and brown rice for dinner at approximately 6:00 pm (after the gym). Was feeling healthy and righteous and at peace with the world. Thought perhaps would only have fortifying mug of green tea between dinner and bedtime. Night eating is for the weak.

Was not satisfied, so just made and ate a colossal plate of nachos.

Karlie Kloss does not eat nachos. Taylor Swift does not eat nachos. Jennifer Lawrence pretends to eat nachos but does not actually eat nachos.

WHY MUST I NACHO?

January 8

7:34am

Encountered my arch nemesis before 8am this morning and it is throwing off my whole groove already. Very cranky on the way to work because NYC Public Schools has this horrible thing called quality review where all schools get evaluated and bad schools get shut down.

Which, to be fair, doesn’t sound bad. We probably should be reviewing our schools for quality, no? But you’re not a teacher, are you? For us, it means principals breathing down our necks and us never getting it exactly right. Anyway, today is just a dry run before the real thing, which is in March. We’re all pretending it is real, at any rate. I was up until the wee hours lesson planning and making anchor charts.

So I was on the subway on the way to work, already in a mood, when I come across my arch nemesis. Doesn’t it always happen this way? When I am at my most stressed with spilled coffee on my pants I see significant exes and frenemies and all manner of unpleasant people. I am Murphy’s Law personified.

This chick is the worst. She goes to graduate school with Sam and Roomie and I so I have to see her all the time. And we simply loathe each other.

I started up with Sam in the Summer of 2013. About a month after we became “something” (in the style of the early 20s) it emerges one day at grad school that they live in the same building. What a hilarious coincidence. Give it three more weeks and Sam stops texting me back and I suppose he and she become some sort of an item. Neither her nor Sam nor any of our mutual friends mention this to me. This resulted in a horrible showdown at a grad school party where we were all sort of drunk and she prisses up to me and is all, “Oh Sam and I are SEEING each other, we thought you knew.” I run out. Tears. Drama. Both of them are Persona Non Grata for the rest of the summer.

Whatever, their very strong relationship lasted about one week after Sam moved in the fall and they were no longer in the same building. It was a matter of convenience, we all always said. Sam and I started up again a few weeks later (Oh, I went so wrong there. So many warning signs). We dated until October of 2014,  when, ten months later, he decides he is “not ready for a relationship” and dumps me. What he thinks ten months was if not a relationship is beyond me.

Takes about a week for that news to get around that we are broken up before this girl is sniffing around again. And the absolute worst bit? She teaches in the same building as me (different school, same building, welcome to New York) so I have to see her all the time.

She is the Kryptonite to my Superman.

Actually, Roomie and I call her the Green Goblin (I, obviously, am Spider-man). She’s very short, very manipulative, and is fanatical about the environment. Fine, love the environment, but put on some deodorant and do not jump all over me the one time you see me with a plastic water bottle. Also, the GG is a superfeminist of the type who spells it “womyn” and posts articles from Jezebel on Facebook every thirty seconds. This makes me sound like I do not like the environment and feminists. Now, this may come as a surprise (especially to the GG) but I’m environmentally conscious and a feminist myself. Some people simply take it to a whole new level.

As part of my New Year’s purge of my Facebook, I unfriended her. And then I thought she would notice, so I blocked her for good measure. Which she definitely noticed. And saw her for the first time this year today when we rode the subway together. I had to pretend to be asleep so we wouldn’t have to pretend to like each other.

In the words of the wise Miranda Lambert, “everybody says you gotta know your enemies, even if they only weigh a hundred pounds and stand five foot three.”


6:41pm

Quality Review test run was alright. All male teachers wore ties and all teachers regardless of gender used bribes to ensure well behaved children.

In the first five minutes of my third period four very important people came into my room to evaluate me. They questioned my kids and went through my papers and typed on their iPads for a half hour. I think I did alright. Tomorrow (Friday) I have a Big Scary Meeting to find out for sure.

Anyway, somehow, someway, after all this trauma, I made it to the gym for the first time of the new year. It’s January 8. Not too bad, on balance, could be worse. Some people don’t go at all.

And I paid $20 dollars for a monthly locker rental so I’ll feel guilty if I don’t go. And I discovered a machine (that probably has a real name that is not The Buttcruncher, which I call it) that I am convinced will create the booty of my dreams in just one short month.


7:47pm

The Cat continues to scratch my door frame despite presence of new $40 dollar scratching post. Sweet.

January 6

10:23pm

Well. I spent hours and hours giving feedback rough drafts of papers for my students, handed them back on Monday, and today the little rascals merrily handed in a heaping stack of final drafts to be graded. It never ends.

All that can be said for today is that other than going to the bathroom, riding the subway to and from work, and eating, I worked from the moment I woke up until the moment I laid down. Grading. Lesson planning. Calling parents to try to gently break the news that their children are failing. It eats away at a person’s life.

I am trying to cut down on pre-bedtime snacking because I have a tendency to consume two-thirds of my calories after 8pm which is supposedly terrible for your metabolism but after all of this i’m simply too cranky not to have a snack before bed, Miami beach body be damned.

Must keep strength up during these troubling times. Will stick to healthy snack like an avocado wedge and two walnuts.

Or, rather, pop-tarts.

Gym visits thus far this year: 0