The Glass Fills up again. Thursday Thirteen.

13.  Tuesday night, I took my last final for the semester.  I can't believe how I feel.  I'm practically giddy. I came home, and had a glass of wine...or three...and repeated to myself, "It's over".  Then I took a picture of myself and then edited it in Photoshop so show how happy I am.

12.  I have started training for the Redman Full Iron distance triathlon  Essentially,I'm mostly following a 50K training plan from the Santa Clarita Trail Runners website, which you can find here.  Add to that 2 swim workouts each week, and replace the Saturday run with hill repeats on a boulevard with wide shoulders that descends into the river valley, about 1000 feet over 5 miles.

11.    Here's how much stress affected me this semester: I spent a lot of time this semester listening to a CD that has songs that I'm hoping to be played at my funeral some day. Yeah, I know.  DARK.  
So this weekend, I tossed that CD and burned a "Happy" CD.  Here's the songs that are on it:
I'm Yours Jason Mraz
Lucky, Colbie Caillat & Jason Mraz
There She Goes, Sixpence None The Richer
Dandy Life, Collective Soul
Beautiful World. Colin Hay
Dracula From Houston, Butthole Surfers
Hooch, Everything
Good Time, Leroy
Sun Comes Up, John Legend
Kiss Me, Sixpence None The Richer
Ordinary Morning, Sheryl Crow
Shoop Shoop Song, Cher
Return To Innocence, Enigma
Lazy Days, Enya
Get Out the Map, Indigo Girls
Unwritten Natasha Bedingfield
Steal My Sunshine Len

Higher Love, Steve Winwood
Beautiful Day, U2

10.  Oh, um.  Did I mention I'm doing a trail mountain marathon in less than 2 weeks? It goes up to 10000 feet, too, I think.  Should be pretty interesting to see how I come out on this, considering my lack of training this semester.

9.  Wednesday morning, I had a great run.  It a mile.  Yeah.  THAT'LL get me ready for that marathon!  I don't care.  I squeezed it in.

8.  Tuesday I slew (slayed?  slaid?) an evil corporate dragon; the medicaid aminstrator in our state has a doctor who approves or disproves payments, and they want to reject a request I made to get help for a mentally ill teenager with a cognitive disability.  (how do you decide to do that for your job? what rationalizations do you make?)  Anyway, he thought he could talk over me--big mistake.  few people can pull that off.  My recommendation was approved, but not without him nattering on and on about how unhappy he was about approving it.  I don't give a $#it.  I don't need to hear your feelings.  Go talk to your dog.  So anyway.  I'm feeling sassy about that.

7.  It's awfully handy having a computer nerd for a son.  I asked him for the mp3s to a CD that is no longer being produced, and he had it for me within a few hours.  I don't ask questions about where, or how.  Remember: plausible deniability.  


6.  This weekend, for Mother's day, I'm going to do the Jay Benson spring triathlon for the 4th time.  It's here in town. It's one of my favorites.  Here's how well-trained the Army turned out Sweet Face, my oldest, I asked him, "What are you doing on Mother's Day?" and he responded, "Um, whatever you tell me to do."  Good boy.  So I told him, "you're going to come cheer for me at a local triathlon and meet our trigeek friends."

5.  Sweet Baboo's knee.  Tuesday night, I was shopping for wine after finishing my final exam, when our family doctor called - he called me because he had my number instead of Sweet Baboo's number - and gave him SB's number and then said, "Hey, are you allowed to tell me the results of his MRI?"

Baboo and I spent quite some time staring at pictures of his MRI sent home on a CD from the place.  It's like a Rorschach ink blot test.  It reminds of when I had sonograms of my kids.  What?  an arm?  whatever you say do.  

Anyway.  He's been our doctor for a decade, so he knows us both pretty well...so he told me that Baboo bruised his bone.  I didn't know you could do that...but if anyone can do anything exotic or unexpected to his body, it would be Baboo.  So, anyway, he said: Lay off the running for a couple months.  As if.

So of course Sweet Baboo heard the words "no tear" and "no damage to the meniscus" he was all happy and ready to get back to training again having completely blocked out the words "lay off the running for a while."  I'm torn between wanting him to truly rest and between sending his cranky ass back out onto the trails.  He hasn't been able to run for 2 weeks.  Maybe I'll make him run with me, which will force him to take it easy.  That seems like a good compromise.

4.  This Sunday, I $#it you not, as I was sitting inside, it started snowing outside.  What.  The.  Fuck.  I keep wanting to complain about the endless winter, but in truth, it's now become the endless spring. If we end up having lazy hot, horrid summer, I"m going to be pissed.

3.  Monday night I got a cryptic text from Courtney, who may have been drunk, or had a low blood sugar episode, or both.  Courtney has done a lot of mountain hikes with us and bike rides with me.  Anyway.  Her text said something about wanting to "do a run in the dark over the course where we almost died on the bike." at the end of August.  The only thing I can remember is the ride we did on South 14 from Santa Fe to Albuquerque, and I'm not doing that.  For one thing, it's 65 miles.  So I told her to start without me, and I'll catch up.

2. I've been very bad about logging WW for the past couple weeks.  I gained a pound.  Back to logging points.  I needed the break.  I spent it eating bad food, just the worst.  I'll spare you the gory details. But seriously.  The worse.  


1. Did I mention how happy I am to be done with this semester?  Ohhhh yaeahhhhhh.

...

Put it in the book.

Nearly 18 years ago I walked into Sacred Heart Hospital in Yankton, South Dakota, and you were born, my youngest, a few hours later, shy of ten pounds. If I had known you would be that big, I might have smoked or something. (I'm just kidding, obviously; please don't lecture me on the dangers of premie babies)

You, my youngest son, were ADORABLE. Big, blue eyes and white hair. I might have easily been one of those overindulgent mothers--except Sweet Baboo has reigned me in, convincing me that a man only learns respect if he's made to be respectful.

MOM: I HAVE DECIDED U WILL PULL WEEDS THIS WEEKEND.

SON: WHAT. IT'S MY BIRTHDAY!

Trust me, I know it's your birthday, and that our influence has been rapidly evaporating. We've been racing to have as much influence over you as we can, while we can, so that you'll be an honorable man that respects boundaries.

MOM: UR A MAN NOW. NO MORE FREE RIDES.

NOT SURE YOU WILL HAVE A FRIEND WITH YOU EITHER.

I want you to be able to make your own decisions, and solve your own problems, so that your life will be easier. It's good, at least for now, for you to suffer the delusion that you don't need me to make your way in the world. Meanwhile, though, it's time you started understanding that I have a life, too. It's not all about you. Maybe I have things to do now.

SON: U PROMISED R U CHANGING YOUR MIND?
MOM: I GET 2 DO THAT. U WERE SNOTTY.

U CAN'T TREAT PEOPLE LIKE CRAP AND STILL GET WHAT YOU WANT.

You may hate me, and complain to your friends about how horrible I am, but as I told you many times: save it for the book. Complain about me in your memoir, when you write one.

MOM: UR AWFULLY SNARKY 4 A NEARLY HOMELESS MAN.

SON: QUIT CALLING ME THAT.

I'm fearful of what you'll decide to do with your shiny-new, adult self. But in that worrying is the firm understanding that becoming an adult can be much more painful if I spent your pre-adult years rescuing you from every little thing.

Put in in the book. That's what I told you whenever you and your siblings complained about how unfair I was. Put it in the book that you got kicked off the swim team and I did nothing to stop it, that I turned you in for breaking school rules and you were put in the in-school suspension. Be sure to include that I made you walk 4 miles when you slept in and missed the bus, and that I didn't take your project to school when you forgot it, even though I could have left work to do it.

Eventually, you've been figuring out 1) not to get into messes, and 2) you're perfectly capable of taking care of yourself.

This is good. Very good. I see people with ruined lives because they haven't figured out those things. I don't want you to be one of them.
I'm inflicting minor pain now so that you don't have it later. Put it all in the book.

SON: YOU'RE NOT BEING FAIR.

MOM: PUT IT IN THE BOOK.

Happy 18th birthday, my youngest son.

Have a happy life.

...

It's a 2-fer.

I did go for that run and felt way wonderful afterwards. And mini-Baboo is better now.

You know, I can quickly identify problem kids because when they're absent, the class runs smoothly. Unfortunately - and other teachers can back me on this - those usually are the kids with perfect attendance. They fly under the radar, so that it's hard to pinpoint exactly how they're disrupting class. It's just that when they're gone, things are better. You may know adults like that. Chances are, they have a cluster B personality disorder. But we can't diagnose those until people are at least 18.
But I digress.

It happens that the culprit in Monday's fire alarm stunt was apprehended yesterday, and turned out to be the most obnoxious student in my last class of the day. I'm pretty sure that this is the kid that threw my keys in the trash. I had this kid last year, too, when I taught 8th-grade, and s/he put a ball point pen in my microwave, turned it on, and walked away.

This particular class, by the way, is the class that security guard Tom said to me, "has the worst kids in the school in it." So, "most obnoxious" in this case is highly relative.

So this student is in a buttload of trouble because it turns out that's a FELONY. Most people might not know that because MOST people don't think to do this kind of crap...but now this student is suspended for nine days, and full charges are being pressed. I feel bad for the Mom because she's actually a decent person who has no idea why her kid acts like this. I feel for her.

But it gets even better than that. The person who turned this student in is the second most obnoxious student I've got. And THIS student is, apparently, worried about getting jumped for ratting out the first student, and so has decided not to come back to school.

Yes, school violence is sad. But a peaceful classroom is joyful and liberating with two problem children out of the equation. Today, I actually taught that class. I think they learned it, too. Cool.

Oh, and special note to Cody the Clydesdale: I'm not really a hard liquor drinker, but thanks for the tip. Perhaps it's time to start working on a sugar-free sour/margarita mix. Lets see: Splenda, limes, lemon juice...

...