Rainbow || Love everybody.

(no subject)

Approaching 10 years ago (this December! time flies!) I used to make the most ridiculous of Livejournal posts. I was 13. You can imagine.

Here's to honour that commitment to ridiculous blogging:

Why I Could Easily Be a Pug

(These are examples of Dog Shaming photos, in which dogs are pictured with signs of their indiscretion written by the humans they own, enrage, and perplex.)

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That is all the ridiculousness I have for this moment. It is not to say that I will have no more ridiculousness in the next moment, although I have learned not to make promises: the minute I say "more soon" it's inevitable that I shall not post for a while. That has also been the pattern of a decade...

[Crossposted from dreamwidth.]
HP || Pomona || Herbology wand.

Minerva_Fest Rec Post

[community profile] minerva_fest has finished posting its glorious Minerva McGonagall material (for her birthday month, of course). I am not finished reading--terribly behind, as always--but have been rec'ing along on tumblr because it's simple to do and because I have Minerva fans over there who are not on LJ. I saw that non-journal recs are not considered for hot recs and so I'll try to transfer them over here and keep them in this post.

I also realise that to this point I have rec'ed all the entries I've seen and that that's not quite the point of rec'ing, although I do find all of these quite worth the rec for the reasons I mention. Since this came out of the desire to spread some Minerva Attention to other sites of fandom--there's quite a following for her on tumblr and a few entries were reblogged--I have been happy to link to everything. (Unfortunately the tumblr lot aren't really commenters, alas, as it's quite a different platform.)

I suppose you can see which ones are meaty enough to count as recs, [profile] kellychambliss?

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[Crossposted from dreamwidth.]
HP || McMin || Braided concern.

(no subject)

I haven't posted in nearly two weeks. Completely unintentional.

Yesterday was Halloween. We had a meeting from hell, private reviews with the Programme Director (the one I'm uncomfortable around), and an interesting field trip with the kids to a park at the nearby high school where there was a Halloween gathering. I only had a few kids left by the end but they loved it. I have one student moving away after tomorrow; she and her friends cried through snack. I nearly cried myself. I may tomorrow. Damn and double damn.

(Another colleague--the one who is in her fifth year at the programme--is leaving. Today was her last day; we were told that at the meeting. It was a huge blow. Her kids are being transferred to the other classrooms, which means I get four new 3rd-graders starting next week; I will no longer have anything like the "4th-grade class" as the 3rd grade will outnumber them. To some degree, I have to start over on classroom culture. I am the opposite of excited. I want to curl up in a ball for a long time. It's so sudden. And so fucking sad. P [the now-ex-colleague] was so supportive and welcoming and even maternal; she cared so deeply about all of us and it was apparent even when I couldn't always understand her due to a language barrier. I had taken to picking her brain for all sorts of things--as well as moral support. She was the one I captured the hornet for and we co-taught the lesson together.)

Today starts National Novel Writing Month. It'll be my 9th year. I hope I can pull it off; it can be a great point of sanity for me despite the craziness. It's a consistency from year to year now, too, which is a comfort.

I should head off to bed. I've been terrible with my night off tonight in that, while I've done much catching up on things I've personally wanted to do, I didn't get the work I needed done all finished. Now I've got to wake up, get my lesson plan sorted for next week, firm up my plan for my new First Friday class (Technology with the 4th/5th graders), make a timeline and print things out for that, and firm up/potentially print things out for my Friday Second class (story-writing with various ages since it's an elective). I should have had it done earlier in the week. I didn't. Oh well.

Good gods do I hate feeling so turbulent with everything all the time. Finally got to feeling the slightest bit settled and whoosh, there goes the rug. Guess I'll have to get used to it feeling like a flying carpet ride.

(Thank goodness I have my fellow-newbie E. She rides in the car with me most days and keeps me sane. We've both worked in much better education settings and under much better management. She'll also be delighted that I'm adopting a tortoise off one of my youth this weekend; she's got one as well.)

Happy Belated Halloween! And Happy November / National Novel Writing Month!

[Crossposted from dreamwidth.]
TWW || Constance || Helliboring.

(no subject)

It is the three-day weekend I have so looked forward to and I am nearly sure I've picked up the cold-flu-thing going around; one of my colleagues has it currently. If I wake up with a sore throat and maybe some fever tomorrow I'll know. Damn kids.

And damn, universe, you have a sick sense of humour.

These dogs pass gas a lot and the poor one with dementia keeps literally backing himself into walls until I come rescue him.

Goodnight. (Ugh throat. I am doomed. Damn infection-carrying tiny humans!)
TWW || Constance || Little grin.

(no subject)

I said multiple places that I was going to bed--and I was about to--but I wanted to post this.

Today:

  • I am getting a new set of (non-Albus-twinkly) lights sent to me for my bedroom.

  • I had a 'quiz' on multiple intelligences during the 'workshop' training thing we had today. I remembered 8 out of 7 of them (no, I didn't write that incorrectly; I remembered more than I was supposed to, apparently, although there are now 9 or something).

  • I had to write an incident report because my student endearingly called me 'idiot' the other day. (Her tone and intent were not mean; she used it much the way I would with my family, which is a sort of "you're doing something silly/stupid but I love you for it".) Trying to deal with it delicately and get across that the language is unacceptable, that her impact was different from her intent, but still acknowledge that she was trying to express her appreciation--which I appreciate--even if she needs to be more aware of her language. (She spends a lot of time around adults. She's a snarky and brilliant and I love her.)

  • Homework time was way less hectic. And I had a volunteer to help me. Yay.

  • Marshmallows are sticky. Toothpicks are annoying. Next time, perhaps, gumdrops and coffee stirrers.

  • Going to the gym is exhausting. I forgot that my arms have weight of their own; now I am very well aware. I had never been to the gym--to actually use it--in my entire life. Here's to trying.

  • I need to get back on the time management horse before she leaves the stables again. I feel behind on absolutely everything. And tired a lot. But that is no excuse! Back to to-do-lists and making myself stick to them, at least enough that I get some stuff done while also having fun.


Now I may (as in, am permitted to) sleep. Three day weekend coming up. Pet/house-sitting each night of it from 7pm-7am, but that's not like doing it straight on through. Plus they have Netflix and a queue of lesbian flicks. And I love their dogs. And their bed is brilliant. And they're two of my favourite lesbians--they met at a softball game because one of them was dressed in a leopard-print leotard.

But most importantly: three days of weekend!

Please come to me, my dear friend. Let us become well acquainted.

[Crossposted from dreamwidth.]
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    hungry hungry
HP || Pomona || Colourful grin.

(no subject)

Twenty past midnight as I start typing this. Exhausted. Tomorrow is Friday--which is brilliant but also not, because four hours straight with the kids. One science lesson with 1st-2nd graders (shoot me now) and then painting club, which is thankfully much easier.

Yesterday I was ready to throw my students out the window; by the end of the day I was left with my three most difficult 3rd-graders (out of four) and my most outspokenly dissenting 4th grader (out of six). That is a recipe for disaster.

Today I had my full class. They came hurrying up to the snack table and one said, "It's A's last day tomorrow!"

(A is a very supportive colleague of mine but yes, alas, she announced the day after I had such a brilliant moment with her that she had given her two weeks' notice. She's preggers, has to commute, and the job really eats into her time with her other children. She has things that need doing.)

I said, "You're right." Changed my tone to something very conspiratorial; I may not be 100% Hufflepuff 100% of the time... "Maybe we should make her a card or something."

"Yes yes yes! Yes we should!"

Even lower voice. "Who can I trust for a top-secret mission? We need to ask [site coordinator] if we can have some thick paper for cards. We can draw and write on them. Now, who can I trust again? I have to see quiet hands..."

And so an activity for after homework was born. They loved it. Cooperated, did creative things, communicated, worked together. Gave it to A as a group; she adored it.

Sometimes I wish I didn't love my kids so gorram much--even when they're grumpy little buggers I want to throw out the nearest window--because somehow it makes the fact that I dread planning time at the learning centre worse. And the fact that I've never felt so uncomfortable around my bosses before. And the fact that I've never felt so disconnected from my work team after more than a month before.

I think I'm going to suggest we all go out and get drinks some time soon. Apparently that was a thing that happened from time to time last year but that didn't happen in the fall. I think it would be a good idea for sooner rather than later, especially with A leaving us.

I'm going to go put some stuff away and get ready for bed, then. I have a few experiments to test before tomorrow's first lesson.

And it's Minerva Fucking McGonagall's fucking birthday today, so there's that!

Huzzah. There's a happy thing about this Friday. Everyone should go enjoy [community profile] minerva_fest! I shall when I'm home. There will be wine. And hopefully no whining--because weekend.

[Crossposted from dreamwidth.]
Seasons || Forest frost.

(no subject)

Gods. It's hard to think about posting when it all seems quite dark and repetitive. "Friend's still dead; I'm still sad. Job's still hard; I still cry. Dog's still dead; Mum's still mad; I'm still pretty destroyed inside." My dog's death and the four-month anniversary of Tom's death were so close that I can tell already my brain has linked them up together.

'bout 10 minutes before I have to leave for work again. Another four days with 'my class' and another hectic Friday of science teaching and painting, even if by some bizarre and bitter hilarity this last Friday's work day was the best I've had yet.

Last night I dreamt of dog beds and work: endless dog beds everywhere, sometimes filled with dogs; terrible classroom meetings with my class, in my old playroom, and caught by a colleague closing an annoying child in a Lego box. My stupid brain. Woke up and started crying.

I know the old "when it rains it pours" and the superstition of things coming in threes.

I know my 'three' doesn't really count (my job is hard and sometimes horrible, but it is a job) but if you could lay off me for a while, Universe, I would really appreciate it. I could do with a little peace and serenity if you had some to spare. Please. This is about the closest I come to outright praying. I feel as though a feather could not only bowl me over, but pummel me with a single touch.

I want to curl up in bed for a week. I want to do it with the little furry personal heater I've had for more than half my life--but of course I can't; he's in my freezer. I want to not be making posts like this and yet they're the only posts I seem capable of making these days.

The only other thing I can think to say is that I'm going to be Co-Chair of my first committee and that I'm very much in a leadership role at my congregation despite my young age. And, thanks to twisted_twister I signed up for hoggywartyxmas and will be working to bring myself back into fandom. I hope I have it in me to post about something like that in the future.

Less than 10 minutes until it's time to head out and face the colleagues for a few hours, then the kidlings for a few more. At least I have Dungeons & Dragons tonight with my friends.

*Wipes face.*

[Crossposted from dreamwidth.]
HP || McPomf || Comfort.

(no subject)

I'm joining Lash in tears. My 14-year-old pug, Muggzzey, died today.

What's worse is that he was hit by a truck that was only being moved about 12 feet in the driveway; the driver was my uncle's best friend, who has not yet met me and was going to meet me this evening. I know he feels terrible ("This is how I'm going to meet your niece? Killing her dog?") and yet it could have been anyone. Mugz was the worst around cars.

There was a yelp but he did much of his dying in my father's arms and was mostly gone by the time they got to the vet, where she gave him the Last Shot. I was not there. Yes, it is going to be something I feel terrible about for the rest of my life. I spent my dog's last week and weekends looking after other people's dogs.

There is currently some difficulty--in conflicting feelings--because my family was all prepared to bury him (my brother dug a hole) and however ridiculous it may seem, I want to cremate him. He was my first pet, I had him more of my life than I didn't, and I want to be able to spread him all the places we loved together--plus some of the ones I never got to show him, like the park near my new house. I want to be the sort of crazy pet woman who has a necklace with a few of her first pet's remains. I don't care. My mother thinks I am dragging things out and I know I am making this more difficult on her.

But of course I'm mindful of the fact that my mother wants the closure of a fast burial. I do feel guilty, and I will no matter how this turns out, although I'm fairly confident they will follow my desires as he was my lifelong canine friend.

Everything just hurts. Understandably--and expectedly.

I'm about to go over there and say my last goodbyes to his fuzzy old-man pug body, the husk in which I loved him so very very much.


23 November 1999 - 20 September 2013.

The old boy snuggling up with my unicorn plushie, which I got at 13 for being too short to ride a rollercoaster my brother could ride at 11. Mugz never minded my height; it meant I found it easier to duck down and love him.

I love you, you crazy little huffle-puffer. I'm sorry I didn't get to cuddle up with you for one more night my baby boy.

[Crossposted from dreamwidth.]