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This morning I woke up and thought, “Hmm. Work again? Really? No thank you, work. I think I’ll just stay right here. You go on ahead without me.” Alas, the siren song of my library lured me in, and here I will stay until the contractual hour of 2:30. Then I will go home and crawl into my bed and hope to catch up on some of the sleep I missed all last week and this past weekend.

Fortunately, my sleep deficit was low on the radar this weekend because my lovely houseguests and I were busy chatting, walking, eating, and drinking the days away. On Friday afternoon the infamous Ms. Noelle Tannenbaum arrived at my place bearing gifts of books and pure maple syrup. Somehow we managed to down an entire bottle of wine while talking and waiting for Lara and Stefanie to find their way north. By the time everyone arrived we were famished and made our way down to Harvard Square for some noodles and beverages. And ice cream, even though it was near the twenty degree mark. Afterwards we managed a few rounds of Balderdash but since we were all A) entirely too chatty, B) still slightly drunk, and C) tired as hell, it was not as intense as it may have been with four word nerds in the game.

On Saturday we took the T over to Harvard again, this time to watch Noelle compete in her very first swim meet. Coincidentally, it was also the very first swim meet any of us had ever attended and it was very interesting. I definitely met my quota for banana hammock viewage in March. We cheered Noelle on during her heat, wended our way around wet swimmers and slippery floors to congratulate her, and then left her with her team to head downtown and do some touristy things.

Our original plan was to walk the Freedom Trail starting at the Boston Common, but we were waylaid numerous times by opportunities to eat and drink. Since I am also the worst tour guide ever, my “tour” consisted of me waving halfheartedly at historic monuments and saying things like, “That right there is a very old gravestone. Oh, that? That is an old church. And next to it, an old hotel. The subway is very old.” Obviously my skill with words is limited to the written form; in person the only adjective I know is “old”. We also stopped to hug and kiss Sam Adam’s grave and to thank him for his bountiful beer, even if he himself did not ever brew it.

As we passed by the Omni Parker Hotel (one of Boston’s oldest- har), I casually mentioned that it was the birthplace of the Boston Cream Pie, and that their bar also happened to make a Boston Cream Pie martini. I thought it was a random tidbit of information, but Lara and Stefanie were all over that. I’m glad they were so interested in having one because they were delicious. And I am not even a martini drinker.

Since we had started our drinking at one in the afternoon we saw no reason to stop and continued on with stops at John Harvard’s brew pub, the Bell in Hand, and the Green Dragon, with more wine at home and margaritas at a Tex-Mex cafe near my house. We also braved the wintry winds and walked from Faneuil Hall to the Italian North End for a trip to Mike’s Pastry to sample the florentine chocolate chip cannolis. It was worth the walk. We also managed to get in some Wii playing, and I can’t be certain but I think Lara might be a Wii bowling shark. She innocently remarked that she had only ever played once before, then slammed down strike after strike while Stefanie and I looked on in disbelief. I’m just glad I didn’t put any money down.

In the evening, Noelle met up with us again after our late dinner. We also hung out with Red of Cupcake Tent fame, and she was just as funny in person as she is on her blog. Afterwards we walked back to my place for a round or two of Boggle. Again, being the chatty girls we are, we didn’t get much playing done before it was super late and Noelle had to wake up early for more swimming. Stefanie, Lara, Lara’s husband, and I went to breakfast and said our goodbyes on the sunny street before they headed back to Philly.

The weekend was pretty much everything I could have asked for, and everyone was exactly as sweet as I had pictured. I think somehow Stefanie ended up with all the cute pictures of us, but I do have a few of my own, and I’m already ready to plan Part II. What do you say, ladies? Poughkeepsie in the summer?

Sometimes living in New England is awesome. Other times, it’s a real bitch. This morning I woke up to drizzly gray rain. Nothing of note; it is Spring after all, the time of perpetually colorless sky and frizzy hair. Then we drove a half hour north to work and there were two inches of snow on the ground and it continues to steadily fall as I type. The huh? Two degrees colder and it’s like a goddamn whiteout?

Nevertheless, my spirits remain undampened because this afternoon I will be meeting many fabulous people. And we will have a fabulous dinner and partake of some adult beverages and we may even mix in some board games, because we are crazy like that. (And also because most of us had to wake up early today, and some of us had to drive many hours, and one of us has to wake up extra early tomorrow for a swim meet.) Plus, tomorrow promises to be sunny and sun equals happiness, even if it is only thirty degrees.

Now I’m off to start my workday. And by “work” I mean watching Back to the Future with the kids who are finished taking their tests. This will be the fourth time I’ve seen it in two days and I have Huey Lewis and the News’ “Power of Love” on perma-play in my head. Bonus: if you know the name of Michael J. Fox’s band’s name in the movie without Googling it you will get NPW trivia points. Happy weekend, peeps.

Because I’ve got big plans for the weekend! 

I have been in super cleaning mode for the past few days, partly because it is Spring and isn’t that what you do when it’s Spring? Of course, I imagine that Spring Cleaning would be easier if it actually felt any warmer here than it did in January or February, but it is still in the twenties when I leave for work in the morning and calendar be damned, that is not Spring-like weather. Not that the weather seems to have any effect on the stupid children at school who are showing up in shorts and flip flops. Seriously, their parents should be ashamed. My mother would have laughed her ass off if I had tried to head out the door in twenty-degree weather in sandals, and then she would have marched me right back upstairs and added extra layers just for good measure.

I digress.

The other reason I have been cleaning like a mad woman is that this weekend I will be playing hostess with the mostest. Yes indeed, a number of fantastic and lovely bloggers will be coming (tomorrow!) to stay at my humble city abode for the weekend, and even more awesome bloggers will be meeting up with us over the course of the weekend to join in the fun and games.

Are you totally jealous? You should be! Because we are going to have SO MUCH FUN. I almost can’t believe I am finally going to meet these fantastic ladies and that we will be able to drink wine and play Boggle and run around the city. My city! Which reminds me, I should probably get some plans together that can accommodate a potentially snowy weekend. Anyway, if I get you all jealous enough maybe it will mean you will all soon be planning trips to New England and I can play tour guide. Then you will all fall in love with the splendid northeast and decide to move here and we can start a blogging commune and we will act really snotty when non-bloggers try to come hang out with us. And we’ll have board game night and drink fancy beers and watch Arrested Development at all hours and live blog while hanging out together.

Okay, I got a bit off track there. What I am trying to say is that I am going to meet some amazing people this weekend and get some much-needed girl time in the process. I have been reading these ladies blogs for so long now I feel as if I know them anyway, but it is decidedly more thrilling to be able to put a face to a blog. For weeks now Chris has been asking me, “but have you actually TALKED to any of them? Like on the phone?” And at first I couldn’t decide if it was weird that I hadn’t yet spoken to any of them, but then I realized that talking to them wouldn’t have made me enjoy them any more than I already did from my daily reading. It also wouldn’t let me know if any of them was actually a serial killer on the loose who just happened to have internet access for the past two years. So really, what was the point of the telephone?

Kidding, ladies. I know you’re not serial killers. And even if you are, at least I’ll finally get to play Balderdash with someone.

Last week was my very last Technology class, ever. I know some of you will be sad to hear that news since it provided you all with no small measure of entertainment on Thursday mornings when I attempted to describe the full horror of my situation. Still, I cannot say that I am at all sad to be finished with the class for good, even it means a lack of instant blog fodder. I remain quite positive that something will come along that will be just as torturous for me (and amusing for you) that I can write about. Such is my life.

At our final class we did the usual signing of paperwork and making sure we had handed in all requisite forms to get the full amount of credit possible for the class. At least, I made sure I had handed in all the forms, because really, how much would that suck if I sat through all that and it didn’t even count? I’ve been hearing a number of horror stories lately about lost paperwork, so it would be unpleasant but wouldn’t surprise me if that happened to me as well. Not like if my head accidentally popped off my neck and rolled under my desk and somehow the Harlem Globetrotters found it and used it for a basketball in a game against the Scooby gang. Because that would be unpleasant AND surprising. You see the difference?

While we were signing forms our teacher took the opportunity to tell us about his upcoming role of Scarecrow in the community theater production of The Wiz. That is, he started to tell us about it but then decided to just show us and queued up a YouTube clip of one of their rehearsals. I wish I remembered the title of the clip just so I could go back and watch it again. It was filmed with a low-res camcorder by someone who, from the look of things, must either have some form of palsy or was shaking with uncontrollable laughter at the scene before them. It was really hard to watch but from what I did see I can safely say that if you find yourself in Massachusetts in the next few months and someone offers you tickets to see The Wiz you should most definitely decline.

As I handed the teacher all my forms on the way out the door he told me, “I hope you enjoyed the class. I know you were a bit more advanced than the others, but congratulations! You graduated magna ___ laude. Here are your cap and gown”, and he fake-presented me with graduation robes. I pretended not to see his disappointment when my arms didn’t go up to accept the “cap and gown” but then I felt a little bad for him so I tried not to choke on my lies as I told him the class had been enjoyable. What? Enjoyable can be interpreted a lot of different ways! I mean, at least it was enjoyable for all of you to read about, anyway.

And so ends the saga of my Technology class. I think I’ll take this semester off for the first time since I’ve been at my school. I am in serious need of some recovery time, and besides, can you picture the agony of a class called “Technology Tools for Classroom Management”? I can.

*I had to change the title of this post and all references to graduating with honors so that it didn’t register as porn on people’s computers. WTF?

Yesterday afternoon, after grumbling a bit about my “Babies: No Thank You” stance, my mother asked when I would be posting the Choose Your Own Blogventure. Suddenly I realized I have no idea where it’s at; it is now officially out of my control. I am assuming it is at the writing stage of Chris, Stefanie, Neil, and Lara D., but if any of them have already finished and passed it on, I have no idea. So while I try to quietly not freak out that I started this project and I hope it’s running along smoothly without sending out 50 crazed emails a day asking if people have completed sections, please be patient and I will let you all know ASAP when it will be a fully complete, published oeuvre.

Adding to my crazy is the fact that it is standardized testing week here in lovely Massachusetts. In librarian terms, that translates to a whole lot of anxiety-ridden students pacing around the library looking for something to read in the event they finish testing early. Yesterday I asked a little sixth grader if he needed help finding a book and he glared at me before answering, “Everything you have is too short.” Since I couldn’t think of a response appropriate to give a twelve-year old I just smiled and asked if he’d like help looking for an encyclopedia, then. He stomped off and picked out a flimsy paperback graphic novel that probably had about 100 words, total, but I let it slide. These kids are stressed out way more than seems normal for this age group, I don’t need to question their reading habits on top of it.

This week we have also stepped up the campaign to get the kids to stop carrying their cell phones to class. The problems of cheating via texts has reached an all-time high and it’s not really very pleasant when they go off in class, either. Some of those ringtones make me want to stab a sharp pencil into my eardrums. But my question is, who the hell is calling them during the school day? All their friends are (or should be) in school with them, and their parents certainly know they are in class and shouldn’t be taking calls. I was handing out tests yesterday and told the kids that if anyone had a phone on them that it should go directly in their locker. No one made a move. Then I added that if their phone went off during the test, their test was forfeit and they would score a zero. FIVE KIDS out of eight got up to put their phones in their lockers.

After school it’s a huge problem, too. I don’t understand who they are talking to on the phone 30 seconds after they have just left class with EVERYONE THEY KNOW, but they hide in the library stacks and chat to each other two stacks over. It is ridiculous. I have become the Cell Phone Police, and I don’t particularly enjoy it. I have to make office detention threats on a daily basis, and for a girl who prides herself on not being that prickly librarian stereotype it is disheartening that I have suddenly been asked to be the Rule Enforcer. It might be even more disheartening that I am actually good at it; I can smell a kid on a cell phone from 300 feet. Special Agent NPW, at your service.

Hello, dear internet friends. I hope you all had a thoroughly enjoyable weekend and that you got to overindulge a bit. I know I sure did, although in my family overindulging is more of a weekly event than just the days Christ rises from the grave. Speaking of, we’ve been having Easter for how long now? And I have yet to have a brew and a chat with ol’ Hey-zeus. I’m just sayin’- if he’s risen, I sure haven’t seen him around. On a positive note, all my Christian friends can stop being such whiny bitches now that Lent is over and they can finally start having coffee/ chocolate/ diet soda/ bread again.

As promised, my cousins and my sister and our respective significant others all went out on Saturday night for Thai food and some go-kart racing. I did not ride, as we needed a photographer to document the race, but I had just as much fun cheering them on. My cousin also decided not to race and while the others were busy signing waivers that they wouldn’t sue the company if they crashed and burned we spied a row of trophies. We were curious as to how one might win such a glorious plastic prize. As it turns out, the way you win one is to give them $12 and they hand it to you. And so an idea was born. We collected two dollars from all the racers and bought one of those golden trophies to present to the winner. Let the trash talk begin!

It was a very close race but in the end, despite a devastating crash into a plastic divider, my sister’s boyfriend pulled out a win. Chris came in a respectable third, less than two seconds behind the winner. Then my cousin who had sat on the sidelines with me declared she was nauseous and I eyed her suspiciously. No alcohol with dinner? Didn’t ride the go-karts? WAS NAUSEOUS? The girl was totally preggers, but she gave me the wide-eyed innocent look and denied it.

Yesterday we had our traditional Easter banquet, complete with the decapitation of the sacrificial lamb. This year my aunt added an extra touch of class with the red food coloring gore. I don’t know who will receive the frozen head in 2008 but I’m sure glad Chris has already had his turn. Then, from out of nowhere, I heard shrieking and crying coming from the direction of my mother and aunt because my adorable godson had just come walking into the room wearing a shirt that said “Big Brother”. That wide-eyed innocent look my cousin had given me just the night before? ALL LIES. I totally called it. After all the excited shrieking had died down the questions began as to who was next in line to have babies and all the child-less couples slouched away to enjoy our dinner without having to bother with another mouth to feed.

Honestly, I am very happy for my cousin and her husband, but that does not translate into “I would now like to procreate, since others are doing it”. I am content to play with my godson and feed him obscene amounts of chocolate and then hand him off to his father when the sugar high kicks in. For now though, my cousin has given me a nine-month reprieve. So thanks for that.

So far on this glorious day of Christian revelation (read: day on which I get to sleep in and not go to work) I have done nothing except dick around on the internet. Which is fine, except I started looking for birthday presents for my Dad and somehow I came to the conclusion that he would really enjoy a Threadless t-shirt and tickets to see Devo in concert when what he asked for was an outboard motor for his canoe. But seriously, is this not way better than a motor?

That’s what I thought.

I’ve also been perusing recipes for things that I might make and bring along to Easter dinner and I think I have decided to make these brownies and maybe a little basil pesto bread as well. Of course, my aunt will be making her traditional lamb cake- that is, a cake that is shaped like a lamb with a coconut coating and pistachio eyes, not a cake made of lamb. Which would also be delicious, but not the case. Every year after my aunt has made the cake and presented it to us she ceremoniously chops off its little cake head and freezes it. Some time later she chooses a victim and one day when you see her she’s all, “I have a present for you!” And you get excited because what the heck are you getting presents for in May? And you open it up to find the frozen, lifeless lamb head staring up at you from pink tissue paper and your aunt is in the background humming the Godfather theme.

I hope you all have a lovely time celebrating Jesus and fluffy bunnies and Cadbury. I will be driving F1 go-karts and attempting to avoid being noticed by my aunt at this year’s dinner. We definitely don’t need two lamb heads in our freezer.

Thank you all for the support of my hamburger desire. I had no idea there would be such an outpouring of emotions, people admitting to craving red meat all over the place, but I want you to know I appreciate everyone’s sentiments. Happily, Chris indulged my craving and we ventured down to Harvard Square last night to the infamous Mr. Bartley’s Burger Cottage. Unhappily, the place was insanely crowded and I got elbowed in the head by passing servers more than a few times. Plus, the burger was mediocre, despite Bartley’s claims to having the Best Burger in Boston (which, excuse the semantics, but Bartley’s isn’t even in Boston, it’s in Cambridge, so how am I supposed to take their claim seriously?).

But we didn’t care because in addition to meeting my need for protein we were also celebrating! And I don’t want to jinx myself here, but let’s just say my three year review went very well and the papers are in order for me to advance on to the tenure track. Which, as you well know, is awesome for many reasons, the main one being that I will no longer receive the dreaded pink slip at the end of every school year informing me that the school district has the right to let me go if the budget sucks that year. George Bush’s parting gift of a recession won’t mean a job loss for this librarian! Woot.

I was also glad to note that my Principal’s review was positively glowing, complete with phrases like ”an integral part of the school community” and “kid friendly”, and he didn’t even use the words “tube steak” or “kissing balls” once.

And to end with just a bit of business, a few of you Choose Your Own Blogventure participants have asked me when you should expect your section of the story. Since each person before you has three days to complete it you could be waiting for a little while, so not to worry. If you don’t receive anything within a week, send me an email and I will follow up. Conversely, people might finish their section very quickly and you could get it in as few as two or three days, so be on the lookout for it in your email. I’ll be sending out my story beginning tomorrow, so we’ll take it from there. I’m interested to see how long it takes to wind its way through twenty-seven people and how the stories will differ by the end. Fun!

A little business to take care of this morning: yesterday I sent out the first round of emails to those people participating in the Choose Your Own Blogventure (or CYOB, as I affectionately refer to it as). It should have included a beautifully wrought diagram that I created especially for all you lovely people so that you can see the order of the story. If you signed up and didn’t receive an email, please let me know and I will add you to the list posthaste.

Moving on, I wanted to bring to your attention a project that I have been reading about now for a few weeks but that I still can’t believe exists because it is that cool. I think Stefanie and Aaron will particularly appreciate this project’s mission, but the rest of you word nerds will also think it pretty cool. It’s the Typo Hunt Across America, and two random dudes from my ‘hood started the whole shebang. They are on a cross country quest to hunt down egregious spelling and grammar mistakes and fix them. Awesome! While I’m often frustrated by misspelled signs and notices I have never thought to actually do something about it. Not to worry- these guys are on duty! I especially enjoyed the post where a woman argued that spelling is subjective. Make sure to check it out.

Next tangent!

Yesterday afternoon after emailing with Lara about how great the sliders are at Beer Works I had an insane craving for a hamburger. Why? I very rarely eat red meat. It was probably entirely hormonal, but regardless of the reason I needed a hamburger. Immediately. Alas, almost all of my friends are “vegetarians”. Note the intentional use of quotation marks there; I don’t believe a single one of them enjoys or consumes vegetables beyond the common fried potato. Really they are more pastatarians, or carbohydratarians, or simply people who don’t eat red meat. So my desire for a hamburger was thwarted because I couldn’t find anyone who was willing to worship a cow by consuming it and Chris was off making loud music. Damn you, environmentally conscious people! I recycle, is that not enough?!

Well hey now! As it turns out, a whole bunch of people are interested in doing some creative writing. I got the requisite eleven bloggers and then some, so rather than exclude people who want to participate I might try to expand it a bit. I mean really, who says it has to end at fifteen?* I’ll keep the sign ups open for another day and you can leave me a comment here or at the Choose Your Own Blogventure post if you’re interested. Keep an eye out for an email from me this week detailing the order and where you’ll be sending your portion of the story.

In other news, I am sure you will all be thrilled to hear that this happens to be Spirit Week at my school and today is Comfy Day. Thus I find myself sitting at my desk in pajamas and it’s very much like one of those strange dreams you might have where you show up to work and everyone is in bathrobes and slippers. Except it’s not a dream, it’s all too real, and only now am I starting to realize that I’m going to look a bit foolish going to the gym after work in polka dotted pj pants. Ah well, I should probably just relax about it and try to come up with a costume for tomorrow’s Twin Day. Would it be too creepy to sew a doll to my side and go as a conjoined twin?

Speaking of creepy, yesterday I went to get some hot water for my tea in our faculty dining room and another teacher was in there, pacing around and talking loudly on his cellphone. He clearly saw me walk in and yet he still continued his conversation. I wouldn’t have thought much about it, except he was yelling and spewing information about another teacher, saying things like, “I won’t be taken down in his scandal! This is his mess! The school district can’t fire me for something I had no involvement in! Okay, yes I knew it was going on but I didn’t start it!” Then my face started to burn a little because surely I shouldn’t know this much information about either of the teachers and I made a hasty escape, but not until after I heard him shout “I didn’t do it!” like some kind of courtroom drama. Now I have all this overheard gossip about both men and I’m dying to tell someone but I don’t have the full story, and also, gossiping is not nice even though I enjoy it more than I should. So instead of sharing it with one co-worker I am sharing it with all of the internet. What? Someone has to fill the void of the internet with anonymous gossip!

Also, the school had a belated St. Patty’s Day breakfast for us this morning with pancakes and eggs and green scones and coffee and oh, it just made me want to go right back to bed. Why would they feed me a scone and then expect me to carry on my day as normal with a pound of dough sitting rock solid in my stomach? Next time maybe I should stick to the St. Patty’s Day fruit salad instead.

*Someone please remind me of my casualness about this project when I am whining about logistics and sending out emails and trying to write the beginning portion of the story. It’s almost finished! I swear!

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