Bex in another city?

Can’t sleep lately.  My mind’s been churning over too many things.  I just finished teaching.  For good I think.  At least a temporary retirement, with no pension.  This past year has been full of tummolt, from all directions, but at least my career is something I can control.  Then the lease to my apartment ran out.  And it was too much to renew.  So I moved.  To limbo.  Aka, subleasing a friend’s apt till mid-August as I reevaluate my life.  I’m 27, unmarried, unemployed, and now homeless!  Having no ties, I think it’s time for a change.  And it looks like that change might be a move to San Francisco.  In a few weeks, I’ll be out there for interviewing and scoping.  So I’m freaking out.  I love New York, to death.  But the city hasn’t been loving me back lately.  I know it will always be here, if I need to come back.  Right now the Pacific is calling my name, and it’s keeping me up at night….

Sundays with Steven

Lately I’ve been spending some lovely Sundays with Steven, the man I call my gay husband. He’s a guidance counselor at my school and he is just FABULOUS. One of my favorite things about him is that he’s like the paparazzi. Always taking pictures. We took over 200 at the Brooklyn Botanic Gardens two Sundays ago at the cherry blossom festival (pictures can be viewed here). Yesterday he met me at Fish, a restaurant that I love for their Red White and Blue deal - 6 blue point oysters or clams on the half shell plus a glass of house wine or a PBR for $8! Can’t be beat. We each had two rounds. And Steven photographed along the way.

With a glass of white and an oyster in hand.

YUM!

Clams.

Fish has a delicious bowl of peanuts for you to munch while you’re waiting for your oysters to be shucked.

Um yeah, don’t ask.

Afterwards we went to the Blind Tiger Ale House across the street where they have many craft beers.

I had a tough time choosing one.

And scene.

Stay classy, Philadelphia

Last Saturday, Stefi and I went to Philly to hit up the big rivalry game - Mets v. Philadelphia at Citizen’s Bank Park.  The park is gorgeous.  Stef and I had standing room only “seats,” which meant we were able to score a really sweet spot standing behind home plate.  They have these bar-like ledges you can lean on, rest you food on, etc.  Totally brilliant idea.  Apparently they only sell the standing room seats for sold out games, and I would totally do it again (hint, hint, Citi Field).  Anyway lots of Mets fans were down there, including the girls of Spring Training - Zoe and Coop, and the “famous” Matt Cerrone.  It was a really great time (awesome to win on enemy turf), and for the most part, despite all the rivalry talk, the fans were cool.  But some of them were hideous.  First there was the drunk fan to our right.  He consistently tried to engage us in banter, but he wasn’t clever or funny and we had to keep brushing him off (quote of the night “Win, loose or draw, your team still sucks!” uhhhh….).  Same guy spat on a fan 10 rows in front of him - a Phillies fan!  Crazy.  Stef an I hung out at the McFadden’s in the stadium for a while after the game, then left around 8:30 to take the SEPTA back to out hotel.  At this point it was pretty dark and desolate, so we tried to catch up to a group of people we saw walking that way.  Apparently that was a mistake.  The men started harassing us and making crude remarks, and one of them slapped me on the ass.  They were with girls, who joined in on the heckling.  I never thought I’d feel unsafe somewhere just because I was wearing a Mets shirt.  Like I said, it wasn’t all the Phillies fans who behaved that way, but it was a turnoff.  Although what can you expect from a team whose mascot (WTF with the Phanatic?!) smashes a plastic Mets helmet between innings?  I know you haven’t won anything in a while, but let’s keep some good sportsmanship.  Stay classy, Philadelphia.

(Coop, Stef, Me, Zoe)

I’m still alive…

I realized today, while running and thinking about various blogs to write, that I’ve been spending a lot more time thinking about blogging than actually blogging.  In fact, I’ve been terrible about it.  I’ve barely touched my food blog, this blog has been neglected for ages, I just haven’t been compelled to sit down and do it.  Once upon a time ago, when I had a secret blog (I mean, it’s still there, but not, you know, updated…) I would write several times a week.  I do miss writing.  I should do it more.  I will do it more.  I think it will help.

I’ve been stressed lately.  What else is new, right?  I’m going through a bit of a quarterlife crisis.  My lease is up at the end of June.  My job is also up at the end of June.  There is no way I will be caught dead in a classroom next year, so I’m left in this limbo - what am I going to do come July?  I’d like to stay in NYC for the summer, perhaps sublet a place, but after that?  I feel like maybe the universe is telling me that it’s time for something new.  We’ll see.

In other news, I’ve been dating again.  Not loving it.  Have met a few cool guys.  But this last thing kinda messed me up.  I’m in the rebounding process, but not quite there yet.  Fucking men giving me trust issues….

Going to Philly this weekend to see the Phillies v. Mets on Saturday.  Instead of Passover dinner at my uncle’s.  10 miles outside Philly.  Yeah.  But I will be attending Passover brunch the next day (hooray matzo brie) and night 2 at my parents’ place in DC.  And to think, I’d planned on inviting the ex to Passover.  As my people would say, oy!

Then I’m off to San Francisco for 4 fabulous days with Melissa, one of my oldest friends in the world.  It will be lots of excellent food, drink, a day of wine tastings in Napa, and a perfect getaway from life.  Is anyone else looking to run away?

Thoughts on a Thursday

First off, thanks for the well-wishes!  That whole stomach virus/near blackout thing was pretty awful.

Apparently I have just over 50 school days left till summer vacation.  Huzzah!  Now I have to figure out what I’m doing with the rest of my life…

Really been hating on my kids lately.  The other day, I was particularly annoyed with my fat kid (who I never hesitate to mention is 7 yrs old, 4′2″, and 101 pounds of fun.  When I was 7, I MAYBE broke 40 lbs, just sayin…), anyway, I was hating on him and he came up to me later that day with a card he made that said “I love Ms. B.”  I just looked at him and felt so bad for being mean to him.  Then he did something stupid and I hated him again.

I went to a sports bar tonight.  Despite the NCAA game playing and the loud music, I could hear one loud douchebag shouting over EVERYTHING.  Listen, douche, you are not so interesting or important that I want to hear what you have to say.  PS. I hate you.

I am PMSing and haven’t had sex in over a month.  I might be a bitch right now.

And lastly, it just me, or are some of these college basketball players super hot?  I feel a little like Mrs. Robinson watching these games.

How I Spent My Weekend

Saturday morning I woke up and went for a run.  It was unseasonably warm and I was overdressed.  I also did not adequately hydrate.  I ate 1/2 a banana with almond butter and went to meet my friend Jenna for a long-anticipated brunch at Prune.  We’d been waiting in the sun for nearly an hour when I started to lose vision.  I saw purple spots and felt nauseous, like I was going to faint.  I got some juice at the spot at the corner.  That helped a bit, but I was still going in and out of vision.  I felt like I wasn’t there, like I was watching a cartoon.  So Jenna put me into a cab, where I slowly regained vision, and we went back to my apartment (and still, I was so bummed about the brunch!).  Despite my nausea, we thought I should eat something.  So I ate the other 1/2 of the banana and Jenna bought us bacon, egg, and cheese sandwiches.  I drank some water and she left around 3.  I had a dinner date with my dad at 7 and plans to go out later so I decided to take a nap.  When I woke up at 5, I felt worse.  Dad and I decided to cancel sushi plans hang out on Sunday instead, and I canceled my plans for going out.  Thank god on all counts.  At around 6 (the time I was originally going to meet my dad for a drink at The Regency),  I threw up for the first time.  Then again nearly every hour till 10.  My dad came over at one point with ginger ale and gatorade and we watched the Georgetown basketball game.  Liquids were barely staying down.  I threw up again after he left.

The next day I woke up feeling woozy and slightly nauseous.  My dad came over around noon with a bagel that I spent all afternoon working on.  He hung out and watched more NCAA with me.  I’m sure I was great company ;)  He said he’d planned to spend the day with me anyway, so hey!  It really helped to have him there, just to have someone to hang out with and talk to.  I didn’t want to be alone.  And I was able to keep food down - hooray!

I didn’t go to school today.  Still feeling woozy/stomach unstable.  Didn’t want to risk it.  Instead I got to spend 3 hours at a clinic to see a doctor so I could have a note to show my principal.  All I wanted was to be in bed, but she requires doctors’ notes when we miss Mondays or Fridays.  Cunt.

I’m a real big baby when I’m sick.  Especially when it’s stomach-related.  This weekend, more than anything, I missed having the ex around.  When I’m sick, I really need to be taken care of.  And I have too much time to spend in my head.  But, I was lucky.  I had my father around.  And when he left, I still had my friends.  My girl Melissa came over after school today to sit and talk and order noodle soup with me.  And everyone has called to check up on me, my lovely little network of people.  It helps so much to have those friends, even when I’m not sick.  I think everything’s gonna be alright.

Pieces on a February Morning

I started a new book the other day. One of the many I’m reading. Some people don’t understand how I can read more than one book at a time. I wouldn’t call it a skill; it’s more like an ADD. Plus being in a book club necessitates that I have at least one other book for my own personal pleasure – the two don’t necessarily coincide. Anyway, this book started with a quote, “A child needs your love most when he deserves it least.” This has stuck with me for nearly a week now. At first I read it and felt somewhat angry. It made me think of the kids I teach and how sometimes they are so incredibly infuriating that I don’t want to help them. Last week one of them flung a pencil at me that narrowly missed my face. I felt shaky all day, despite the fact that he was removed from my classroom. Then the quote made me sad for that very same reason. It made me feel like maybe I’m not giving them enough. It made me wonder if I take things in my own life for granted. Someone told me that I’m too sensitive to work this job. Maybe so. Anyhow, this book is about a parent, not a teacher. And although I’m not one yet, I grew up believing that parents loved unconditionally. I don’t know when that belief was shattered, but it’s extremely devastating to think so. I’m someone who loves openly and proudly. My family, friends, lovers. I wouldn’t say without condition, but I think that there are certain things you can overlook in the people you love. I’m sure there were times growing up when I was horrible to my parents but they still loved me. Because I was a part of them. And because of who I am as a person. I’ve always tried to look for the redeeming qualities in my students, as difficult as it can be sometimes. It’s always easier to forgive the ones you really love for their transgressions. I’m lucky, I have a lot of people I love, a lot of people who love me. My kids are lucky if their parents love them enough to send them to school with lunch for a field trip.

I’m on my February vacation right now. It’s easier to look at them with clear eyes through the distance. It’s easier to look at a lot of things.

I’ve spent much of this time thinking about my future. I’m no fortuneteller, but I know this job isn’t it. You all know this isn’t it. So much of it boils down to my own sensitivity. In every aspect of the job. My mother was a psychiatric social worker. I could never. So much for my hope and optimism. Someone once told me that the New York City Board of Education was declared a failure by the supreme court. One person can’t save the world. Or can they? I’ve applied to teaching jobs at other schools – private, high school, charter. I’m not sure that’s it either. I got an email about a food stylist. Maybe that’s it. Maybe I’ll leave the country when my job and my lease end in June. Run away somewhere without cold weather. Teach English in the Greek islands or learn how to surf in Hawaii. The fantasies are endless. Scratch that, the possibilities are endless.

I had drinks with an old friend last night. We went to preschool together. God, can you believe how long ago that was. We were friends for most of our childhoods and we reconnected when both of us first moved to the city. Every time we meet up, we ask ourselves why we don’t do it more often. I love friends like that. I need to see her more regularly. It’s funny when you disconnect from someone, only to discover that you’re still so similar. Last night, after rounds of conversation and Guiness, we ran outside the bar, in just our sweatshirts in the freezing cold to see the lunar eclipse. Amazing that you can see these things even in the brightly lit skies of the city. There won’t be another one until 2010. I never would have remembered. I’m so glad she did.

BARO-CAT - it’s what’s for breakfast…

That giant jug of white nastiness was what I had to drink in the morning before I had my catscan.  Took one hour for that stuff to be absorbed into my system - yucks.

So, yeah, I had my catscan.  No results yet, I feel a little bit like my doctor is dicking me around.  Not entirely a shocker.  I have to figure that if there were something seriously awful, they would have caught it immediately, right?  Thanks to everyone for your thoughtful comments on my previous post.  They were (and ARE) greatly appreciated.  Just gotta make it through the winter slump and then everything will be alright…

Why I haven’t been blogging

I haven’t been on this beast for a while now.  Mainly because things aren’t okay.  I’m not trying to be melodramatic, and don’t worry, the boyfriend’s still in the picture.  It’s just…things aren’t okay round here.  Most of it’s school.  This school year has been worse than my first year in District 75.  You would have thought that by my 3rd year teaching, things would be better?  But they’re not.  My principal has no respect for the team teaching program.  As a result, instead of having 8 special ed kids in a class of 20 (12 being general ed), we have 11 special ed and 9 gen ed.  And out of those gen ed kids, I can count 2 who DON’T have behavioral problems.  2 of them are being referred for IEPs (sped documentation), and the rest….oy.  My room has become a dangerous place.  Kids who were not violent are now becoming so because they see it around them.  Kids run out of my classroom regularly.  They’re in the wrong environment.  I’m in the wrong environment.  Today I cried in front of my kids after I failed at restraining a child and he was taken away by security.  This is not supposed to be my job.  Then my father called to tell me that my family cat (MY cat, the one I picked out as a 6th grade graduation present when I was 12) died today.  She had cancer.  She died in my mother’s arms at the vet.  Then he told me that my youngest sister wants to drop out of college (it’s only been 1 semester).  After that I had a urologist appointment.  Long story short, I was told to come in for an ultrasound on my kidneys and bladder.  He ended up also doing a highly invasive procedure that he had not mentioned, that involved going into my urethra to inspect my bladder.  My bladder was clear.  It cost me $1200.  It hurts to pee now.  Oh and I have to go get a catscan because the ultrasound (the procedure I went in for) revealed cysts on my bladder.  I’m 26 years old.  And I’m scared.  And I’m broken.  And I’m afraid to go in to work tomorrow, for both me and the kids.

Tis the season

There is a part of me that enjoys this season. Mostly because I’m in NYC and I get to experience (in moderation) Rockefeller Center, the various holiday markets and other such holiday nonsense. I also like snuggling under the covers while the snow falls outside and drinking hot cider with bourbon. But after the holidays, the whole “winter” thing gets old and I grow weary. I definitely think I have Seasonal Affective Disorder, so when I don’t get warmth and sunlight, I start to get depressed. February is the worst. At least in December, the holiday cheer might be enough to get through the cold. So, speaking of holidays, here are some pictures from my Thanksgiving in Maryland.

sad and empty champagne flutes

hot turkey

(most of) the spread

full plate for a full belly!

PS - It also tis the season for giving presents. If you love me, check out my amazon wishlist or these websites for inspiration: www.charmedanddangerous.net, www.ericaweiner.com Channukah begins on Tuesday night!