in other news

Meet my foster buddy, Mr. Al. The rescue named him that but I've been calling him a variety of names - Mr. Nanners (short for Bananas Foster) and PJ (short for Puck Jr).

He's a great little doggy. He has separation anxiety that destroyed my blinds, but that can be fixed over time. He does great on the leash and loves the cat. He loves people and kids, too. Also, he is an awesome navigator in the car and loves Petsmart. Such a sweetie little hound dog.

Part of me wants to keep him but part of me knows I don't have the time for a dog as a single person. It really limits my social activities and if I don't have a social life, I resort to sitting on the couch watching endless hours of vapid television programming.

I guess I don't need to worry, though, because they think he might have an adoptive family who wants to meet him this weekend! I'll be sad to see him go but it is for the best.

wg

moments like these

I don't like being vulnerable. I actually kind-of hate it. Mostly because I would, in my previous life as a depressed person, make myself so vulnerable to people that they had no option but to hurt me. So basically, I was hurting myself.

I hurt myself again.

You know, MLL and I weren't doing the right thing. We were using each other because we hated being alone. But I had feelings for him and I didn't share them. I was afraid of being in a relationship with him because I've never truly felt that "this is the person I want to be with" feeling from him. Did I feel comfortable? Yes. Excited? Yes. Attracted? Yes. Happy? Yes.

Assured? No.

It was just something I couldn't put my finger on, but the best way to describe it is I didn't feel the need to be with him. If we went a week or two without talking, it didn't bother me. Same for him. We wanted to want each other but we didn't.

And now he is dating someone else and I told him to get out of my life. He can't be my best friend anymore. And that's truly what he's been for the past few months. My friend, my comfort, my rescuer. Emphasis on the "my".

The thought of him with someone else is slowly draining out any spark I had lately. It's like banging my head against a wall when it comes to dating. I still manage to get hurt and rejected when I'm not even dating someone.

I should've seen it coming. Even being close with him but not dating him left me vulnerable. I thought I was doing the right thing by hanging on to him with only one hand instead of two.

But as I sit here, typing, with tears on the brims of my lashes for the eight hundred millionth time, I can't help but admit I am empty, lonely, and utterly exhausted.

wg

d oh double gee

I miss Puckers. However, I don't miss the full-time commitment of having a dog. Since I'm not traveling much this summer, I decided to become a foster parent to a dog who is awaiting their forever home! In the next few weeks, I'll be getting a basset hound from a rescue group in my state.



Cute, huh? It'll be hard not to get attached, but I am excited to help him/her become a better houndie so they can go to a great family!

wg

is hating negativity a contradiction?

Well.

This week sucked.

I don't know what it is about work this year, but I'm just so over it. It's been a constant uphill battle. I started off poorly. People keep yelling at me. Yes, yelling at me. I don't think anything I've done deserves the yelling - mostly because I'm just trying to do my job. Not to mention, we're supposed to be working professionals.

I feel like I'm banging my head against the wall. I was telling my good friend about this and she reminded me about what a shitty year I've had. Negativity vindicated! (Thanks, Kat.)

Even if you didn't want to know, the list basically includes a bad start to the school year, grandmother dying on Thanksgiving, putting my beloved dog to sleep, cancer scares, a home appraisal in the form of an epic failure, intern drama, frustrations with church, and I just found out that MLL (who wasn't really my boyfriend in the first place because I have commitment issues) is dating other people. Bahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! Woe is me!!!!!

Thinking about all these crappy things makes me want to put my head through a wall. Or punch someone. Or put someone else's head through a wall and then punch them in the butt.

It even makes me not want to go to the beaches "Dancin in the Street" festival this weekend, even though I've been looking forward to those street margaritas all year.

So, I have a choice.

I could focus on those things. I could let them drag me down. Or instead, I could think about the positive things that happened this year. There was working with my yearbook kids, being named Teacher of the Year, working with the amazing Neeley for Montreat, getting accepted to the Boston school (at least I know I'm talented, even if I'm broke!), the veto triumph of Senate Bill six, not having cancer, awesum blog followers, and various good times with friends.

So I chose the good things.

Plus margaritas.

wg

dear job and life in general

I. hate. you. so. much. right. now.

Love
WG

mama drama

Ok.

This is difficult for me to say.

It's been a long time coming. I know it may not seem natural to some people. I know many will be confused.

There will be those who say, "You? Really? I never saw it!"

But yes.

The truth is ...

I am afraid of babies.

Being the youngest in my family meant I was never around babies. As I got older, I baby-sat, but only for kids who were potty-trained. I just don't know what to do with babies. As an English teacher, I'm all about helping my kids master language so they can be great communicators. But babies can't articulate. And that scares me.

When they cry, I want to cry. Why can't they talk yet? What do I say? Are they hungry? Are they wet? Should I burp this screaming baby? Is he mad at me? Just not that into me? Confused? Angered by the current political climate? Frustrated by the failing economy? WHAT IS WRONG?

People say it will be different when/if I have my own baby. All I know is, there are currently 21 people on my facebook who are either pregnant or had a baby in the last year. My best friend (who is also pregnant) says that these babies and pregnancies have nothing to do with me. She's right. But I can't help feeling like they are forming an army against me.

A tiny, pooping army.

texting with my sister, yet again

Her: I have the worst cramps ever. I hate my freaking uterus. I don't even need it.

Me: Why not?

Her: I mean not right now. I'd like to put it on ice for a few years.

Me: Oh ok. Well, I'm gonna have MLL's baby when I'm thirty-five and then adopt another one. I will write best selling books and run a dog rescue.

Her: Well when I'm thirty-five I'm going to have Leonardo DiCaprio's baby and open a vintage clothing store. Each day I will open at eleven so I can sleep in. Ginger (her dog) will come to work with me every day and there will be a cappuccino machine. I will have a nanny to watch the baby while I shop estate sales for fabulous vintage items.

Me: Yeah, well when I'm thirty-six my book will be purchased by Showtime, made into a TV series and then a movie. With my millions, I buy a fabulous farm in Kentucky where "Just Pucking Perfect Pet Rescue" will save millions of lives and then be featured on the Today Show. Impressed by my journalistic raw talent, Matt Lauer will offer me a gig and I will replace Meredith. Forced to buy a penthouse in NYC, I will buy in the same building as Britney and become her BFF. Our connection will lead to my singing back-up to her new song "Let's Have Sex, Boy." My obvious talent will lead to my own record deal. I am now a platinum selling artist walking on stage to receive her Grammy, when Kanye West (who hasn't done anything in years) runs on stage to steal my award. Just then, my baby-daddy/nanny/part-time Latin Lover springs into action and shoots Kanye in the face. We are forced to flee the country and are offered protection by 50 cent. We flee to Italy. My new name is Francesca. I eat pasta every day for the rest of my life.

Her: You win. But I still get to have Leo's baby.

wg

I was just thinking about your ovaries...

Not really. But that's what my sister's doctor said when they called her. Let the hilarious texting conversation ensue.

wg

oh, ew

Warning - if you are grossed out by adolescent children, sex or adolescent children talking about sex, please don't read this post!

There are perks to looking young and working in a school. A lot of times, students don't notice a teacher is near. Today, I overheard this gem of a conversation in the cafeteria:

Kid 1: Dude, I totally felt her boobs up last night.

Kid 2: So awesome! Her boobs are freaking huge.

Kid 1: Yeah, and she let me finger her, too.

Kid 2: What?????? She's so hot, dude. You are lucky.

Kid 1: Hell yeah.

Kid 2: So what did it feel like?

Kid 1: What did what feel like?

Kid 2: When you fingered her!

Kid 1: Oh. (Pause) Um, kinda like peanut butter. Like I put my hand in a peanut butter sandwich or something.

Kid 2: (Eyes growing wide) Dude...where did you put your fingers?

Yes. Really.

wg

maybe she deserved it

Don't go feeling all sorry for my intern after that last "I'm a bitch" post of mine.

I remembered what it was that frustrated me so much about her. Remember this post about my internal struggle? The worst part was that even after she'd be told, by numerous people, not to do a certain thing anymore, she still did it. Remember that?

Well, deja vu. On her last day, I overheard her telling the students that they could contact her anytime they wanted by simply emailing her. You know, if they needed someone to talk to or help with homework. It was very sweet of her, but also, super naive. You should never communicate with students online! (As teachers, we have work email that we use occasionally to communicate with students about grades, but still, you always keep it professional.)

I pulled her aside between classes and warned against it. I told her the story of a teacher who worked at our school and was fired over online communicating with students. I told her I understood the connection you can feel with students, but that I strongly advised against giving them your personal email. I did everything short of smacking her upside the head and taping her mouth shut.

Right. So. On Friday the kids revealed that she gave all of them her email address. Some of them even have her phone number.

Like I said, don't feel too sorry for her anymore. Bitch or no bitch, I can't help someone who just refuses to learn.

wg