Free Time

I’ve been frantically crocheting to make scarves for an art fair at the college. It’s tomorrow and I hope I sell something.

And I hope someday I can relax.

42.5 pounds

And I’m not talking quid. Biggest turkey I’d ever seen and the most delicious keeping in mind that I was a vegetarian for many many years.

This year’s holiday turned into a family reunion of sorts. There were 20 some people at dinner and 40 some for dessert. I have to admit it, I love my family. And to see the extended ‘greats’ and second cousins was good times. And to top it off, my great-aunt and her husband presented a power point presentation of the family tree. I love the idea of a family tree. I have a number of old black and white photos in my hallway and now I know who those people were. Names and everything.

What lacked was the stories. But of course, who wants to taint the family tree with sordid truths but me? I have to say, I ached for the tales, wondered how one could be remembered without them. It’s been a goal of mine to record my grandparents stories. I have yet to make this a reality and I have a ton of excuses for not doing so.

Watching the PPP gave me a selfish idea. I’m going to write the stories of these people inspired by factual information I have. The result will be purely fiction from my over-active imagination.

Full Belly Foods

One yummy thing about being in the Bay Area is Full Belly Farm, from whom we get a box of organic veggies every week. I’ve been wanting to do this for awhile for many reasons but never made sense when I lived alone.

I really wanted to get foods that I wouldn’t buy on my own. See, I’m a ridiculous creature of habit when it comes to eating. If there is something I like, for example Caesar Salad, I will eat it every night – for not days but for months on end with very few interruptions.

I also wanted to start cooking again. Cooking is fun because I like to make pretty plates of food. I’ve been told that my salads are beautiful. The tricky part of pretty plate presentation is that there needs to be someone other than yourself there to admire it. I have a captive audience now and along with mystery veggies, I’m making some good edible art.

Pictured above is a red daikon. Who knew such a gorgeous spicy little bugger existed? Delish shredded in salads or as a potent appetizer sliced and sprinkled with salt.

On life and death

I don’t get it.

Advice, please

What’s the best way to clean moth guts off your computer screen?

Very Unique

Her name is Sally and she is old. She reminds me of a bird, bony and tall. She walks slightly hunched over I suspect not from old age but rather never being comfortable with her height. She came into my class seven weeks after it began and told me she had tutored in the past. I’m a flexible teacher and had no problem with welcoming her in.

One of my jobs is teaching English as a Second Language. It’s a very unique program in that I teach the employees (maintenance, security, housekeeping, etc.) at a retirement home and the retirees come to the class as tutors. Which in theory, sounds kind of great.

Sally has a mop of wavy blond hair and eyes slightly askew. On that first day she corrected me quite sternly in front of my students that I could not say ‘very unique’.

“It’s either unique or it isn’t,” she balked.

And she was right. I felt like an ass. And I thank god when she takes a week off from being an ESL tutor.

Sally was in class again this week. Thin but ever so present. I gave out a reading assignment. The students were to read out loud with their tutors and work on pronunciation and new vocabulary. The raptor had two students at her table who I know both have trouble reading. I sat down with them and started reading with one of students. Sally sat back, crossed her arms and glared at me. Then seconds later she leaned her long torso towards the table and said, “I guess I’ll go downstairs.”

“Why?” I asked. I really had no idea where this was going.

“Well, if you are going to work with them then you don’t need me.”

“You have two students, I just thought I would help.” I tried to defend myself.

“I can’t hear her if you are going to be sitting here working with her.”

“Then I’ll leave,” I said.

I stood up to move to a friendlier table. She smiled at me as I left, that wicked I can get away with whatever I want type of smile. And I kind of hate her.

All of us need to feel needed. But when you are old enough to be living in a retirement home, I feel like you shouldn’t be allowed to act like a spoiled five-year old. And like a spoiled child, this woman is going to push me ever chance she gets. She is going to wait quietly to attack as soon as I make a grammatical mistake. She is unforgiving, judgmental and needy. I want to empathize.

I think to myself, maybe what keeps her going is the idea that she knows better than the English teacher, me. That maybe these are the only stories she has to share with her friends over lunch or dinner. Other retires that I suspect she never would have spoken to had she still been able to function in the world this building.

She is never ever going to care about how I feel. How I am trying to do my best to fulfill the needs of my students even though I say very unique and they only get class once a week and are all at different knowledge levels, that I’m struggling to get the support of management, that I am so wiped out after class I usually go home and fall asleep, that I have run out of black ink and can’t afford to buy more so I am printing the lesson plans in blue, that many times the people in this class are the first I have spoken to all day and it’s 3 o’clock in the afternoon. And that if I reach her age I want to be the type of old woman you want to hug but can’t because I’ll be too frail – that your touch, your gesture of love will hurt me and because of this I will radiate the kind of warmth that will make you want to hold me that much more.

I had a meeting with the woman who hired me and I told her I had a tutor almost walk out of my class.

“Sally?” she asked.

Unemployed, already?

Damn, job #5 may be gone and done with and I haven’t even taught my first class. It turns out that the two social workers who run the program are quiting to take other jobs. I guess the question is, if they are not running the program – do I still have a job or is the project over before it begins.

And why did I go out for that celebratory dinner before I got my first paycheck?

Monday, Monday

In order to be able to take job #5, I had to switch workshop classes. I told my instructor and the program manager emailed my ‘new’ instructor. And he never got back to her. Class is tonight and I’m going to crash it.

Any of you ever had your families move when you were younger and need to switch schools mid-year? I have, plenty. Tonight is going to be like junior high all over again. Picture me, clutching my school books trying to explain what I’m doing there. Awkward.

Hope the cool kids are nice to me.

Correction

from the previous post. The total damage was $610 after tax.

audi tt and me

so, um yeah, my dad died over a year ago and i was working 2 jobs and someone asked me why i was working so hard and i remembered that when i took job #2 that i wanted to pay off bills and buy a new car (or new used car). and then dad died unexpectedly and i thought – i could be working this hard and then be gone. and why? where was the enjoyment in my life?

thus, it was a life’s too short decision that led me to the Audi TT, the car I admired, drooled after, pictured myself in speeding down the LA freeways. and one fateful midweek night, i said, fuck it, i’m getting what i want. i deserve it. and i felt good. also embarrased because i really don’t have the kind of money owning an audi projects and ashamed for being materilaistic. but the intentions weren’t ostentatious. i wanted the car because i loved the car. i am still embarrassed by the image it projects.

and now, i am the owner of an older audi that has problems. like needing a new battery. but i and the dealership didn’t know this was the problem so they did a bunch of tests. and the problem was, in fact, the battery. they replaced it at a ridiculous amount of money that i agreed to (more involved story). but today when i got a call that the car was ready i was told my extended warranty that is supposed to cover everything did not cover their ‘diagnostics’. and the audi people are telling me that ‘the diagnostics’ would have been covered if the problem were more severe.

i tried to explain to audi that this makes no sense. that i came in with a problem and the warranty should cover looking into that problem – not just the outcome. they argued with me. i will be calling the warranty company in the morning because i took my little tt into the place i originally bought it lots of times because of problems they never even found and was not charged once for ‘diagnostics’.

i’m ranting because even though i got a job – yay! – i am playing catch-up on the finances and really, really don’t need to be paying $555 for a battery replacement.

fuck this shit.