Tuesday, March 15, 2011

tuesday musings

- Sometimes I like to be ensconced in tiny places; sometimes I like to be standing in the middle of a wide open space with the wind blowing around me. Today I'm snuggled in my bowl chair with my hood on, even though it's oddly sunny outside for this time of day.

- Today in Math class a student was looking at me strangely. "What are you doing with your face?" I asked him. "What?" he said. "It's my thinking face." I'd never seen it before.

- I'm catching on to their shenanigans. A student asked me if I knew the difference between a Roman helmet and a Greek helmet. I don't. Figuring this was something to do with the Greek project due today, I said, "Of course I know the difference." "Shoot," he said, thinking he could pull the wool over my eyes with an improper helmet. He totally could have.

- I don't drink enough water. I chalk this up to laziness; my water bottle has a spout that's hidden by a magical button I have to press and hold every time I want to take a sip. I hate having to hold that stupid button down. Today I bought a bottle with a straw, and I've dranken half its contents already!

- Tuesdays are the worst. I feel like I've been awake for three days and fallen down the stairs twice. I did get punched in the collarbone by a grade seven student today, because I accidentally walked into the trajectory of his fist. He quaked beneath my glare, and figured it out on his own that he should be more aware of his surroundings.

Sunday, March 13, 2011

splashing around in the muck and the mire

I don't know if I've been running marathons in my sleep or what, but recently my muscles and I have not been on the best of terms. My first attempt at pacifying them was massage therapy, but as that did not yield immediate results I was forced to seek treatment elsewhere. I was at Save-On today and thought, "Oh! Bath stuff!" because I think that sometimes there are powders or salts you can stick in the bath that fix muscles? I don't know. I went to the bath section and there were these little packets of stuff, most of them lavender for relaxation. I would like to have boughten all the lavender packets, tossed them in a giant pile, and BURNED THEM TO HELL, but I didn't want to give any money to the lavender industry. So I ended up with this packet of random tree parts that claimed to relieve muscles.

When I opened up the packet and dumped it into my bath, I laughed out loud. It was bright green. Shamrock green. Nuclear sludge green. It was fantastic. I had visions of showing up at work tomorrow with green skin, temporarily dyed by my bizarre bath. At the very least I should emerge with relaxed muscles and new super-powers.

It's a bit hard to be chill in the bath when you're surrounded by green water, so I spent most of the time playing and seeing if it would dye my towels, and what would happen if I mixed it with my blue shampoo, and that sort of thing. Thus far I haven't exhibited any newfound talents or abilities, but perhaps it's a delayed reaction?

Saturday, March 12, 2011

mystical aerial moments of delight

Yesterday during English class I was a plane. We went outside for exercise and it was just so windy; I was standing there surrounded by the children and had the consuming desire to stick my arms out and make whooshing sounds with my mouth. At first I was just walking, with plane wings for arms, diagonally this way and then diagonally that way. I wove between students who stared at me, perplexed, wondering why their teacher was suddenly completely bananapants insane.

Then two students stuck their arms out and started following me, and we chased after a boy in a little line of planes. We chased him until he tripped on a tree root and fell down. "Yes!" I shouted, "we got him." A few more joined our line of planes because now we were chasing people, and then some students turned into fighter jets and attacked us from all sides. I haven't run in probably three years, but as a whooshing plane I ran around the grass field, leading a troop of little whooshing planes, deflecting fighter jets and chasing boys until they tripped and fell down.

We were all planes until the bell rang; then we went inside and laughed on the way up the stairs because when was the last time anybody was a plane? The wind is a magical thing.

Sometimes I love being a teacher.

Friday, March 11, 2011

massage therapy: a sideboob saga

I don't know if any boys read my blog, but I talk a little bit about boobs in this one here. So maybe give it a pass if you don't want to hear a tiny bit about boobs.

I have pretty much the worst posture in the world, and also I spend a lot of time on the computer. Plus I dislike holding/carrying things, so every morning I shove my purse and lunch kit into a backpack instead of hanging on to them like a fool. For some reason all these things have combined to launch an attack on various muscles in my neck/back region. This I could handle like a champ, until yesterday when my ARMPITS started to hurt. Come on! Armpits?

So I made an appointment at a massage therapist for today, because a friend of mine at work does that and it's covered by my new medical plan! Which is fantastic. Except that this morning I all of a sudden thought - am I going to have to take my clothes off? I think they sometimes do that for massages. I was too shy to ask the person who told me about the place, so I just worried about it until I got there and filled out the forms and then went into the room and met the lady. Even then it wasn't until she actually told me to take the clothes off the top half of my body that I actually knew what was actually going to happen.

"You can leave your pants on, but take everything else off and here's the blanket and this is where your knees go," the lady said. She had a lot of tattoos.

These are not the kind of instructions you want to misunderstand, so I clarified. "This comes off, and then I slide in there?"

She nodded, and then left for me to take care of the rest. As soon as my top half clothes were off I shimmied onto the table and tried to arrange my arms so that there was NO SIDEBOOB. It was at this point that I realized that I'd forgotten to take my glasses off, even though I needed to smoosh my face into the donut thing that's designed to hold faces. I didn't want to get up in case the lady came back and saw actual boob, let alone sideboob.

I stayed put and held them until she came back and took them from me, but then I had to move my arms so she could put shoulder pillow things under my shoulders, so I had to stretch my arms by my side. It's difficult to keep arms pressed at sides with shoulder pillows and also trying to be relaxed so I wouldn't ruin all the muscle relaxing she was doing. I was trying to imagine what everything looked like from the top, where she was standing - was I effectively hiding my thunder?

(Just kidding. I don't actually think of my boobs as my thunder. I just wanted to use that line because I miss Arrested Development.)

And THEN, while battling sideboob anxiety, I was also imagining what my face looked like. I felt a bit like an idiot. Put your hands on your cheeks and pull back, so everything is tight and ridiculous, and that's what my face looked like. Then I realized that I was staring at the ground and she couldn't see my face, so all I had to worry about was my boobs hanging out for the world to see.

Until she tried to fix my armpit muscles. I don't know why I didn't think about this before, but I did not shave my armpits prior to the appointment, which I DEFINITELY SHOULD HAVE. So I was not relaxed during that portion of the thing, which might have negated the massage effects. I was going to apologize, but thought that might make things awkward. Also, when my face was smooshed in the face thing, it didn't matter if my eyes were closed or not, but when I was on my back I was suddenly conscious of should my eyes be closed or open? If my eyes are open do I look bored or creepy? If my eyes were closed would I look asleep or creepy? It was all so stressful.

In the end, I'm not sure if it was all worth it. Sometimes it didn't feel like she was doing anything at all, and other times it felt like it might be helpful. Maybe if I went again, I'd just get over the whole boob-anxiety, and also I would definitely shave my armpits.

Wednesday, March 9, 2011

while the wind whines overhead

One thing I like about winter is the dry air at night-time. Every time I move my blankets it causes a visible static electricity storm, which makes me feel like there's a lightning show going on just for me.

Sunday, March 6, 2011

all good things must come to this

I received a bouquet of purple tulips as a gift last week. Those things are nuts - they absolutely love the cold. I open the window a crack during the day and night to indulge them their idiosyncrasies, and even though the crack is only big enough for one or two of them to stick their heads out, the whole crew leans towards the opening, hoping to catch a breath of the wintry air. I don't keep a lot of living things in my apartment, due to my penchant for completely forgetting they depend on me wholly - a few months ago a friend gave me a plant, and every week I replay this scene:

Me: (engaged in some mindless task) Holy crap! Whoops! (run over to sink and fill up a cup with water, then pour it all over my poor, parched plant) Sorry, man. I won't forget you again! (knowing this is a lie)

It's different with my tulips, because I love them passionately. (So passionately that I am huddled in a blanket so they can enjoy their fresh air.) Also, they only need to be watered once, which I've done. At least, I think so. Maybe I should be changing their water, like with a fish?

Anyway. The point of this rambling is because today I was reading my book in the sunshine when suddenly I heard a soft thud. Like if a giant moth died mid-air and fell onto my windowsill. Imagining it was a giant moth who died mid-air and fell onto my windowsill, I looked immediately to whence the sound had come, only to realize it was something far, far more terrible.

A single purple petal lay on the sill.

My tulips are dying.

I don't know what to do besides stare at them in abject horror. There is literally nothing I can do to save them. I want to glue the petal back on, but that will make it top-heavy and the whole thing might snap, plus would glue even stick to a flower? I don't want to keep hearing tiny thumps, because each one breaks my heart, but I don't want to unceremoniously shove them in a garbage bag. I'm in a ghastly pickle.

Saturday, March 5, 2011

like almost nothing in the world

The sun came out today. I love all types of weather, especially extreme weather: I danced in the wind and hail all the way to Tim Horton's with my grade sevens yesterday. However, sometimes it's just nice to see the sun. I went for a walk beside the ocean and it seemed like everything was basking - there were these birds sitting on a rock with their wings open, like they were going to take off, but they stayed that way for a really long time. Either taking a really long time to psych themselves up for flying, or airing out the armpits, or warming the feathers in the unexpected sun. I wore several layers for my walk, but shed most of the outer ones as I went because not only was it sunny, it was a tiny bit warm. Do you remember what warm feels like? I had almost forgotten that you can be outside and be warm at the same time.