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This is it. My very last day of vacation. I realize that 99% of you will not feel bad for me in any way because I just had close to three months off of work and the other 1% of you are already back at school yourselves, but it is my blog and I will complain if I want to, damn it. Summer is over. Wah.

Tomorrow and Wednesday are teacher days so I can ease myself back into waking up before the sun does without the added stress of having kids in my face all day. Even the fact that I am thinking that way, that I am not the teensiest bit excited to go back, seems to be a bad sign for this upcoming year. I really don’t want to do this job and I feel stuck. I suppose this problem could have possibly been avoided if I hadn’t spent three weeks gallavanting around the English countryside and put in some real resume effort but now it is too late. Contracts are signed and Power Point presentations are ready to go. BUT I DON’T WANNA!

Sigh. Anyway. On top of that stress, I also went on a date last Friday night. We had been emailing for weeks before we finally got together because he had been traveling. I was mostly dreading the date, considering A) all of my other dates have been terrible beyond my powers of description, and B) I had already formed a semi-crush based solely on his emails, which I just knew was going to backfire on me big time. Then we met on Friday and it was… well, it was actually pretty awesome. We talked for hours and everything seemed comfortable and right. We discussed possible activities for future dates. He loaned me this graphic novel series I’d been dying to read. We flirted and kissed and it was normal and great. He said, “call me”. Well. I did call him, on Saturday, to say I had a great time, and got his voicemail. I texted and got no response. No response to either! He hasn’t called back. If this is some kind of dude mind game he’s playing, I am not enjoying it. And if it is not a game, then seriously WHAT THE HELL? I truly don’t get it. If he doesn’t call back I am keeping his damn graphic novels and I am throwing in the towel on the dating scene. Clearly it is not for me to try to decipher the male mind.

It’s a good thing I have a sense of humor. Honestly, if I couldn’t laugh about my own misfortune in life I don’t think I would have made it this far.

• Kristen Stewart
• My stomach
• People who don’t use turn signals
• Girls who get decals airbrushed on their nails
• People who don’t text
• My brain
• People who refuse to try new foods
• The dude who works at my gym and wears his hat perched on the top of his head, sideways, and three gold chains
• Crocs
• Going back to school
• Places that only take cash
• Anxiety dreams
• People who don’t use spell check in work emails
• Paying for shipping
• These, a lot:

I’ve spent the last three days at my new school trying desperately to piece together some kind of hybrid media/technology/research curriculum while at the same time choking down both my bitterness at having a full teaching schedule with no room for library time and my rising fear that I am going to be drowning in work once September 1st rolls around. I am not happy about this and it is being compounded by the fact that I am at the highest point of my hormonal craziness right now, where every word out of every person’s mouth makes me want to rip their face off their skull. My only saving grace is that I fully recognize that this week is The Crazy Time, so I slap on a manic grin and nod extra-emphatically while people are asking me ridiculous questions like, “how do I print to a different printer?” SURE! HOLD ON, LET ME DROP WHAT I’M DOING TO SHOW YOU HOW TO DO SOMETHING YOU SHOULD HAVE LEARNED 12 YEARS AGO! Nod grin nod. I guess some things never change, no matter what school you’re at.

Basically it comes down to the fact that there were two people doing this job before, now they are both gone and I have involuntarily taken their place. With a sketchy outline of a curriculum and 600 sixth, seventh, and eighth graders coming in less than a week. One of the librarians who is now gone has actually been super helpful. She left every lesson, every worksheet, every Power Point she had done and told me to use whatever I wanted, to change it and make it my own as I saw fit. The other sent me an email that said “Ha ha ha! How do you think you will ever be able to do that job on your own? I spent hours correcting things and that was with only half of a course load! Also, sorry, but I am not giving you any of my lesson plans, you already took my job. Good luck, SUCKA!”

I am paraphrasing. But really, that is the gist of it. And I thought I was bitter.

So this last week of my vacation, which should have been spent relaxing beachside, has instead been spent in my library. It was 90 degrees and sunny today and there was nary a daquiri in sight, does that seem right to you? (Hint: the correct answer is no and emphatic head-shaking.) At least this library has air-conditioning and a fun SmartBoard to play with for when I get tired of creating worksheets. So do you think I would at least get to do summer vacation-y things at night? Why no, because I am exhausted after actually having to WORK all day and then going to the gym. Boo hoo. Plus, there’s a little something that has been keeping me busy lately…

Don’t be jealz. Not everyone can have awesome friends like Lara, who win entire sets of SVH on eBay and then shares the wealth. Maybe once I am done reading all 9 billion of them I will do the same.

Most of you know that my mom is pretty much the best mom ever. I’ve talked about her a good deal on this old blog and she frequently comments with things that probably only make sense to me and probably make you think she’s a little batty. Which she is, but in a good way. Anyway, maybe you were wondering about why I never talk about my dad, and the only reason I can come up with is because he is too strange a dude to write about. No, really. Just looking around their house I spied a book on raising poultry, one on how to pick mushrooms, the New Hampshire guide to deep sea fishing, a tide chart, and some kind of diagram detailing how to tell if the ground is a level plane from inside a backhoe. So basically, nothing at all that would indicate that we are biologically related.

Still, he’s my padre, and occasionally we realize that we have the same twisted sense of humor*. Also occasionally, I enjoy helping him with home improvement projects. So the other day he asked me to mow the lawn, something I have never done in my thirty years of life, and he would edge everything with the weed whacker. Sure, I can do that! No problem! I got going, and really, mowing is not so bad. There’s something soothing in creating all those symmetrical lines. So I’m mowing, and mowing, and suddenly I look around and see the weed whacker on the ground and my dad is nowhere in sight. I didn’t think much of it, maybe he went to get some water or something. I guess it’s not like him to leave the weed whacker in the middle of the driveway, but whatever…

When I finally finished mowing, sweaty and covered in grass, he still had not come back. I stomped into the house to find him lying sprawled out on the couch. I yelled at him for being lazy and hanging out in the air conditioned house while I was outside sweating my ass off and then I really looked at him. Dudes, he was gray and clammy and wheezing and I FREAKED THE HELL OUT. He squeezed out that something had stung him and he had tried to flag me down but I didn’t see him so he came in to see if he could relax. Relax! My dad was in anaphylactic shock and he came inside to have a relaxing little lie down without telling me. AND THEN I YELLED AT HIM. Awesome Daughter Award, coming right up.

At that point I ran around and around trying to find his epipen and trying desperately to remember what our school nurse had told us about administering them. The padre refused to let me call an ambulance (he didn’t want to “inconvenience anyone”) and so I finally found his epipen (on top of the refrigerator- worst place ever) and handed it to him while hustling him into the car. As soon as we started driving I was talking him through the steps of the epipen and he just kept sitting there, holding it in his hand. It was frustrating, and I probably yelled at him a little more, and finally I pulled the car over and took the epipen from him because I was worried it was getting too late.

I now know what it is like to stab someone in the thigh with a giant needle. It is gross, and there is a lot of blood. Thank the stars I had a pile of napkins in the car because oh my goodness, so much blood. On the bright side, four years of working in a school prepared me for that moment so I didn’t even freak out, I just continued on to the hospital where they took him immediately to a room before the hordes of other people that were sitting waiting with emergencies of their own. Two IVs, some benadryl, some pure oxygen, and an hour long nap later and we were on our way home, my dad decidedly not dead.

NPW for the win! Maybe I should have been a nurse? I could have been Florence Nightingale Wannabe! Ugh, never mind, even the idea of cleaning out bedpans makes me want to vomit.

So that was my Friday night. How was yours?

*I also took a picture of my dad hooked up to the oxygen and the million little electrodes in the hospital and texted it to my sister with the message “having fun, wish you were here”. Both my dad and I thought that was hilarious. My sister, not so much. Like I said, twisted.

Do you know, I have never had those anxious back-to-school dreams before? I was always pretty comfortable with my role as librarian right from the start. I love interacting with the kids on my own terms, on a common turf, where we know we are both there because we are interested in books. As a librarian, I know my job and I know it well. Until now.

My new job at a new middle school in the same town is going to be entirely different. I have a full class schedule, all day, every day. Usually only elementary school librarians have full schedules, but there it is different because first graders are still excited to go to the library for any reason whereas eighth graders would just as soon sit in a toilet stall texting their BFFs for the duration of your 45 minutes with them.

Yes, I wll be teaching them valuable research skills. What skills? I don’t know, because I haven’t planned anything. School starts in a week and I haven’t done a single lesson plan. Do you see where this is leading? I should think it would be painfully obvious: the horrible anxiety dreams have started and they are in full force. The last three mornings I have woken up curled in a sweaty ball with lingering thoughts like, “I can’t do this. I don’t want this job. Why did I agree to this? Is it too late to find a different job?” And once I allow that feeling of being adrift in a sea of panic into my brain it starts hemorrhaging all the other reasons I should worry.

Should I stick to the suburbs where I can afford to live on my own, or move back to the city where rent is sky-high even with a roommate, even though I am way too old to put up with roommate shit?

Then again, how am I ever supposed to meet someone if I’m in the suburbs?

Why is everyone I’ve met at my new school so awful? Am I just looking for reasons to make myself freak out?

What the hell kind of library job is this when the kids don’t have time to take out books, or talk about books, or do anything at all involving BOOKS?

Clearly I’m not cute enough/ funny enough/ smart enough to ever successfully date again OR have any friends at my new school so my best option is to hole myself up and never go out in public again. Yeah! That sounds great! Ha! Ha ha ha ha… ha.

And there you go. A bird’s eye view into my bird brain. It’s too bad because I had been doing really well from the time I left for England till just a few days ago, which is why I have determined that it must be the job thing. It must be! Right?

Wow, you guys sure do have opinions on eyewear! The  internet may be a place of much mystery to me, but now that I know I don’t even need to bare my soul to get comments I am just going to solicit opinions. Should I wear this skirt or that one? Date this asstastic guy or that douche-y one? Make cupcakes or brownies? Re-read Harry Potter or the Golden Compass? Oh, and please come up with a life schedule for me, internets. I NEED YOU.

Ahem. Back to the subject at hand: my glasses. The overwhelming majority chose the first pair as your favorites, which I somewhat expected. What I did not expect was the huge difference in opinion on the clear glasses- you all either loved them or hated them. Personally, I loved them, but wasn’t sure if I could rock them all the time in the way clear glasses deserve to be rocked. As for the last two pairs, I wasn’t sold on them myself and your votes confirmed my opinions.

So, which did I buy?

I don’t mess with the majority, yo. The internet is my democracy. But still, even after picking up my new glasses I felt like I missed out on the clear ones. They would change my whole look, and wasn’t that what I was going for? So I got back on the trusty internet and ordered these:

Heart.

Listen, I don’t get paid to review a damn thing on this site, but have any of you ever checked out Zenni Optical? $9.99 for a pair of prescription glasses? Dudes, I pay twice that amount just for shampoo. That is a BARGAIN. And so, just for good measure, I bought another fun pair because really, who doesn’t need four pairs of glasses just lying around?

It’s entirely possible that these are going to look terrible on me. But can I really afford not to have a pair of blue glasses? That’s what I thought. So go ahead. Tell me I’m crazy for buying three new pairs when my old ones were fine. And I will tell you I may be crazy, but damn if I’m not going to look cute in those clear ones.

I’ve had the same glasses for the last four years. They are serviceable, and not too bad looking, I think, but the lenses have become a little scratched over time and sometimes the frames get a little bent out of shape. That would probably happen to any plastic frames and usually if I bring them into the Harvard Square Eye Care they can fix them right up for me. So, if I am being totally honest, I don’t actually need new glasses. But I think it’s time for a change. New school year, new me.

The problem is, I went in to pick out new frames without any backup. Worst. Idea. Ever! I stood looking at the rows and rows of frames for an eternity and was no closer to picking a pair I liked than when I showed up. But you know what I did have? My iPhone! Who cares if everyone was staring as I took pictures of myself, right? I was doing it for your entertainment! And also, so I don’t look foolish in my new specs!

Time to solicit advice from the interwebs. These are the four I liked best. I think.

Please excuse any blurriness and the fact that they are a little crooked, I was trying not to laugh at my own ridiculousness.

I like these a lot, but would they be too hipster for everyday wear? Also, wow, my hair looks super red here. It’s darker in person, I swear.

Why yes, I AM a huge dork.

Now that I am looking at these I kind of hate them. But that is just my opinion. It may also be that my expression makes me look like I want to knife someone. And also that I look like a slob- geez, I couldn’t have thrown on some lip gloss or something? These pictures were going on the INTERNET!

Anyway. What say you? And feel free to choose none of the above. I will only be mildly offended.

I’m going to admit something today that I am not proud of: I have been holding out on all of you. I have been sitting on a veritable goldmine of material, multiple posts could have been written that would have entertained you to no end. But I haven’t written them. I haven’t even really thought about writing them, you know, like when you have a really good topic and your mind automatically starts to organize them into sentences and paragraphs and segues and you can almost hear the comment responses forming. I’m refusing to let that happen because once it does, once those floodgates open, I’m afraid there will be no stopping it.

The topic, of course, is dating.

There are a couple of reasons why I have hesitated to write anything about it. First, I know that Chris and many of his friends read this blog, which is fine. It’s not like I am doing something embarrassing (although the couple of guys I have gone on dates with should be embarrassed that they are such poor specimens of their gender). It’s not like I think Chris would be upset or something, but the thought of people yukking it up over my dating misfortunes while he blissfully dates someone new in California is more than my fragile ego can currently bear.

Second, it hasn’t exactly been a priority anyway. If you examine the facts, I think you will agree with me that I am not really in a position to begin a new relationship: I am staying at my parents house in New Hampshire while I wait to hear about an apartment in the city, I am starting a new and potentially very stressful job at a school where I may or may not hate everyone, and I just got back from a three week escapist fantasy in England. Where, exactly, would a dude fit into that equation?

And lastly, I just haven’t had the heart. The very idea of dating right now gives me the willies, but I have forced myself to give it a go because if I don’t I think I might become one of those hermits, willing to sit at home with Don Draper and Dexter Morgan and Captain Malcolm Reynolds for company. Sure, being single isn’t so bad, but that doesn’t mean I want it to last forever, and if I start telling people about my boyfriend Lee Adama the “forever” part may just become fact. Still, every date I have gone on has been anxiety-inducing, to say the least, and for someone who prides themself on being laid back that feeling sure has a way of sending me into avoidance mode.

Then again, it may just be that I agree to go on dates with the worst possible candidates. Seriously: one dude was so big I thought the hostess at the swanky downtown restaurant was going to ask if he needed two chairs. He went to flag down a waitress and people, he had BINGO WINGS. You know, that giant piece of skin underneath old ladies arms that flaps around when they yell “BINGO!”? He had it. He also drank his beer by darting his tongue into it, like a cat. I wanted to VOMIT, and we were sitting outside. I was terrified someone I knew would see me with him. Awful.

There was also the 35 year old guy that informed me he lived with his brother. In a one-bedroom. That they shared. With twin beds PUSHED TOGETHER for more room. If that isn’t enough to send a girl screaming, I really don’t know what is. Actually, the fact that I even gave these dudes enough of a chance to go out with them once says something about my compassion as a human being, I think.

So yes. I have been on dates. They have not been good. I think it may be time to throw in the towel for a while. At least being single means I won’t have to beg anyone to go see The Time Traveler’s Wife with me.

Wait, what? I have a blog? And I’m supposed to actually be thinking of things to write for it? Well why didn’t anyone tell me?!

Okay, okay, so I have plenty of things to write about at the moment, but even just the thought of formatting everything into coherent written sentences exhausts me. Hmm, how long do you think I can use jetlag as an excuse? Is a week an acceptable amount of time? Because really, I only just got back on Tuesday night and I think I’d like to milk this lazy feeling for as long as possible. Otherwise, what’s the point in traveling 3,500 miles in seven hours, all the while sitting next to an Israeli couple eating hard boiled eggs and then snoring their egg breath down my neck? NO POINT AT ALL, I TELL YOU.

Although I am feeling lazy, I have managed to get a number of things crossed off my list in the day and a half I’ve been home. I finally wrote my second post for The Greenists (formerly Allie’s Answers), which should be up tomorrow. It’s all about tricking kids into caring about the environment by tempting them with cold hard cash. Fun, yes? I haven’t worked in a middle school for five years for nothing, I tell you.

I also finally went into my new school today, despite getting an email that my new principal would be out of the building until the 13th. Whether he was going to be there or not, I was starting to get that panic-in-my-chest feeling when I thought about how little I’ve done over the summer to prepare for, you know, teaching. Like, real classes and stuff. When I envision the first day of school, it goes something like this:

“Hi, kids. I’m NPW. No, I don’t know where your other librarian went since the HR department in your town sucks some serious ass. Anyway, you’re stuck with me, but we are going to do some awesome things this year! Like… umm… learning how to write citations in MLA format! EXCITING, RIGHT? Let’s all write essays about how excited we are for bibliography time. I SAID START WRITING.”

Yep, that sounds about right. So I got to my new (to me) library this morning and discovered that the summer program was still going on. There were a number of kids and teachers roaming around the school, most of them congregated in the library. I didn’t mind at all, it’s a good work space for them, and I went about my business of gathering up info on schedules and materials for next year. Only after an hour of working did I realize that not one single teacher had approached me to introduce themselves. After two hours it was clear that no one was going to, but I finally had to suck up my pride and ask one of them where the bathrooms were located. She just kind of gazed at me and pointed towards the doors. “In the faculty lounge”, she said, and turned away from me.

I stared at her back for a minute before tapping her on the shoulder. “Umm, where’s the faculty lounge?” She heaved a sigh and got up off her sizable ass to show me to a door right around the corner.

“Thanks”, I said, but she was already walking away.

Either my new school is full of dicks, or they have no idea that they are going to have a new librarian and therefore have no idea why I am wandering around their school looking for bathrooms and the computer lab.

To tell you the truth, both of those options seem very lame to me.

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