Full Blown Shitty Pity Fest.

I got fired inadvertently through a Craigslist ad yesterday.

I've been tutoring a 10 year old in reading comprehension and writing for the past month. Four hours a week at 18 bucks an hour. It was good. Until it ended very abruptly.

I'd arrive early for every session. But one time I was late due to my other job. There was an unexpected orthodontist appointment that I couldn't get out of chauffeuring.

Andrew (the 10 year old) threw a fit when I arrived due to timing issues and him wanting to go out and play.

A little background on Andrew...He's 10 years old and is basically getting two educations simultaneously. He goes to public school, while his mom home-schools him. And he plays the piano avidly. The poor little guy has no time to be a kid. So I can understand why he threw a fit the other day.

I thought everything was going fine aside from the minor breakdown. The mother had even recommended me to a friend and asked if I'd like to spend 45 minutes every Saturday teaching 5 pre-schoolers the fundamentals of counting and phonics and the like. I told her I'd give her an answer this week. Unbeknownst to me at the time, I would never get the opportunity to answer.

I was browsing Craigslist the other night, as I do every day countless times a day. And I happen upon an ad, that's nearly identical to the ad I responded to regarding tutoring Andrew. Same schedule. Same pay rate. Same situation entirely.

I replied with a simple question. I just asked if this ad was for the ______ family. I'll leave their name anonymous so I don't leave the opportunity open for one of my devoted fans to stalk them and punish them for this rather blunt blow to my ego.

They replied a day later, telling me that they had decided to "go another direction" and that they would no longer be needing my services as a tutor. Their main reason was that they needed a tutor earlier in the day...only half hour earlier than my schedule would allow. Poppycock.

Apparently I'm not a good tutor.

Which makes me think to myself...if I'm a failure as a tutor, how in the world am I going to be a successful teacher.

At first I tried to brush the dismissal off, telling myself I didn't enjoy tutoring the kid anyway...that it was a relief to get fired. The bruises disguised themselves as denial.

I've spent a lot of today crying. Stressed about finances. Coping with a direct hit to the ego. And to top it off, I got in a fight with Anthony due to my own unhappiness with myself. Oh life.

Sometimes I think I should be on medication. I'm depressed, or bipolar, or something. I have traumatic mood swings. And these aren't just typical girlie pms'ey trysts on the swingset. These are full blown ugly face cry fests. And they're triggered by the stupidest bullshit. This morning it was dishes in the sink. The other day it was a joke about my bad breath.

I'm ultra hyper sensitive and it's exhausting.

Sometimes I wish I could rub some type of cream all over my body that would metaphorically thicken my skin to a degree that would allow me to slough off layers with every "joke". And then those layers would just grow right back.

Alright enough of that bullshit.

My CSET Cliff Notes book came in the mail yesterday. I bought it used on Amazon. There was no specification of what year it was from, but I suppose it slipped my mind that that should be something I should concern myself with. The book was only 3 bucks. So I bought it and waited anxiously for its arrival considering I took a practice test a few days prior and only got half right. Not so hot.

It arrived yesterday. It's from 2003. Epic. The pages are yellowed and ancient. Awesome. The structure of the test hasn't changed apparently though. So that's cool.

I'm starving myself and running a lot in a drastic attempt to lose weight. My current physical state is the root of my unhappiness. I know I know, I'm supposed to love my body no matter what. But right now, I don't.  And I'm over the 20 pounds I gained in the last three months. So it's time for them to go away now. Getting a boyfriend is bad news for being thin. A sudden influx in calorie consumption coupled with an exponential decline in physical activity equals stretch marks and bras that don't fit. Most of our free time, actually let me re-phrase that, ALL of our free time together involves sitting on the couch watching our high def television while eating jalapeno flavored pretzels or some other high carb product.
It's gross. And I'm done.

I hate television. It's the devil. I was fine without it. I can be fine without it again. Or at least in small quantities. Here's me looking on the bright side...due to my recent termination I have four extra hours to exercise. Yesss (insert fist clenched quick elbow pull to the side with simultaneous knee lift).

Ok. I'm done throwing my pity party. I love you guys. Thanks for reading. Sorry for the sob fest.

Basketball, Growing Old, and Forgetting to Change the Roll.

I ran into a girl I once knew a moment ago. I used to coach her in basketball when she was in ninth grade.

Let's rewind to that chapter of my life. This will be miserable for me, but perhaps mildly entertaining for you.

This was the time in my life when I thought I could do everything, when I thought I had boundless energy and could rise to every occasion. (Who am I kidding, I still pretend like that stuff is true). I was a meager assistant coach on a cross country team with absolutely no responsibility aside from running with the kids...oh, and one time the head coach asked me to record split times, once, at one race, the only real responsibility I was ever given, that one time.

And then the head coach approaches me one day, informing me that the girl's basketball frosh/soph head coaching position has opened up and that I should take it. I'm not sure why this woman decided I was right for the part considering she had only entrusted me with responsibility once in our entire professional relationship. I hadn't proved myself to her nor did she know that I was only a mediocre basketball player who was only chosen for the team because of my gargantuan size. I played for three years and that was it.

Not only am I baffled as to why this woman recommended me for the job, I'm at a loss for words as to why I went on to meet the head coach of the girl's basketball program, and accept the position. I would be responsible for ten girls. There would be practice every morning at 6:30am. I would not have an assistant nor would our games coincide with any of the JV or Varsity games. I was entirely on my own, with no guidance or support. I was fed to the wolves, the seething open mouthed parents of these young girls, open mouthed and waiting to pounce upon my young and naive unqualified flesh.

I was terrible. I had no idea what I was doing. I never once called a time out. My talks in the locker rooms were petty and pointless. We lost more games than we won. And the worst part is, my girls actually had talent. Some of them should have even made JV...another component contributing to the afore-mentioned seething mouths. They had talent. I just didn't know how to harvest it. One parent even called me and chewed me out over the phone. The others just yelled at me from the bleachers. Like a pack of wild dogs, they banded together, no composure, yelling and flailing, those little gobs of spittle gathering in the corners of their mouths. I'm surprised they never pounced. I still have nightmares about them, ones in which these wild dog like parents flock from the stands and drag me out to the center of the court where they rip my clothes to shreds leaving me naked and shivering in the fetal position, all the fans from each team pointing and laughing, cackling with their heads thrown back.

Ok, ok, I don't have nightmares...anymore.

But it was still miserable.

So to see this young girl at the coffee shop. This young girl I used to coach. This one girl who was actually one of my favorites due to her creative intellect and passion for books...was a wretched reminder of how I went down in flames as a basketball coach and will never attempt it again.

And to think...I coached a practice five days a week at 6:30am...and accompanied these girls to countless games and tournaments...the hours and effort are immeasurable..the embarrassment and emotional abuse stuck to the soles of my shoes forever....and all for a meager 600 bones.

I suppose I didn't even deserve that much for as bad as I was. I'm just glad it's over.

It was nice to see her and hear how she's doing, now that she's since graduated from high school, went to art school for a year, and has now moved back...it's weird how people get older. I started running into my old YoungLife kids at Sandbar. Awkward turtle to the max.

Anyway, that was a nice trip down memory lane. I hope you enjoyed it. It's time for me to go be productive now and stop thinking about what a failure I am. Was. Ugh.

Blah.

In other news,

I'm anemic and have to take several hundred milligrams of iron daily, which constipates me and makes me feel like an invalid. Apparently 12-14 is normal on the iron scale. I'm a 10. The box says to take one a day. The doctor over-rode the box and is telling me to take three a day.

I've developed the terrible habit of cracking my knuckles. And now have nightmares of giant swollen knobs on my fingers due to the incessant popping and cracking of cartilage.

I watched all three movies in the Back to the Future saga in the last 36 hours.

I forgot to change the toilet paper roll once and Anthony made note of it.

I took a CSET practice test and only got half of them right.

One of my toenails is bruised and is going to fall off.

It's the second one from the left on my right foot.

I took Jemma thrifting on three for one Wednesday and have ignited a new passion within her. She makes me proud. I also bought ten cat puzzles for $1.92.

The Monopoly game at McDonalds is making me and my boyfriend morbidly obese. Good thing it's over this week.

And if you get a chance, rent the movie Pirate Radio. It's rull good.

Money and Other Things.

I spent $682.41 this morning.

Don't worry, I didn't spend all my nickels in one place. Which makes it ok right?

No.

Because it was all on things that aren't fun in the slightest. Bleh.

It was distributed as so...

...as if you care...

One of seventeen million $282.91 car payments (don't worry, I've only got a year left of 'em).

A phone bill (which includes the $100 bonehead move from the last blog).

A Certificate of Clearance to teach in the state of California (apparently a fee of $29.50 is necessary to prove that I'm not a criminal).

A rather reluctant entry into the GRE (I know I said studying was enjoyable, but that doesn't mean I want to pay $160 bucks to take a 4 1/2 hour standardized test).

And a very upsetting parking ticket (paying $4 for a visitor parking permit does not excuse you from parking in a staff only lot. typical blonde).

Friday I spent $133 bucks on fingerprints. I threw up in my mouth a little when the woman told me that I have to send two entirely separate sets of prints, one to the district and one to the state. Ummm...I'm pretty sure my fingerprint didn't change in the 33 seconds between your button clicking over there missy.

I certainly got swindled.

I also spent $25 on a TB test that took about 17 seconds.

I was whining to Anthony the other day (Oh, Anthony is my boyfriend, in case you didn't know. And I've inserted this parenthetical comment simply to say boyfriend, because I like saying boyfriend, because you see, I've never had one of those before, ya know, a boyfriend. So it's fun to say. Ok, I'm done now) about how much money I have to spend just to APPLY to grad school.

He replied with "It's an investment."

"Yeah, well what happens when you don't get in?" says the little leprechaun on my shoulder. (I prefer leprechauns over angels and devils. They're way more fun, but equally as advisory. At least in my mind).

Well if you don't get in, that's approximately $906.50, an entire semester of a political science class, three agonizing standardized tests, ten minutes in a cold dark room having a woman awkwardly roll your fingers across a little screen several times back and forth, a short stint behind a curtain ending in a pin prick, and one happy-go-lucky group screening interview all down the drain.

"So you better fucking get in!" says the little leprechaun. He's a feisty little bugger.

Enough about money, and grad school, and snarky leprechauns...I get to watch two of my favorite children tomorrow.

Hanna and Dominic. Hanna is almost 4 and Dominic is 16 months and they're delightful. Hanna is my favorite almost 4 yr old ever. She has this incredible curly hair and she's so sassy and she calls me silly all the time. Any child that calls me silly has my heart in the palm of their hand. Dominic has these huge brown eyes and his giggle is absolutely wonderful. I cannot wait.

I finished Chuck Klosterman and moved onto another new favorite, Anne Lamott. This book is called Traveling Mercies: Some Thoughts on Faith. It's great. I've got the sequel Plan B: Some Other Thoughts on Faith lined up right behind. I found them both at thrift stores within a week of each other. I consider it destiny.

My favorite song right now is Trevor Hall's Te Amo.

And I'm no longer going to Paul Simon because the cheapest ticket is a hundred bones!! And considering how much I just dropped on the afore-mentioned grad school endeavors, there's no room in this pocketbook for Mr. Simon. Bummer dude.

I'm drinking an iced coffee but I'm still sweating. Apparently I'm cooking up some more muffin for the top. Oh, it is love. No. No it's not.

Anthony and I got in a fight yesterday about hiking. I wanted to hike. He didn't. We fought. And then I did laundry while he mopped the floor. At least it was a productive fight, however backwards that might be.

I've watched every single episode of every single season of The Big Bang Theory. Not only have I watched them, I own them. At first I felt really conflicted about not only watching, but laughing as well. A person of faith becoming an avid follower of something so blasphemous just cannot be. But it is, and I am, and I got over my conviction really fast because Sheldon Cooper is incredible, as is Amy Farrah Fowler, and Howard's mother. I even have a commemorative t-shirt that came with the purchase of Season 4 on DVD.

In other news,

• our TV is outstanding. 46''. LED. HDTV. with DirecTV. the picture blows my mind every time.
• our couch finally came in the mail. in a giant box. there was talk of building a fort with the box. and then we just cut it up and threw it away. what a shame. the couch is funny. a small couch for two big people. I feel like the star on TLC's latest series Big People Little World. 
• Anthony made the most incredible french toast for brinner last night. 
• it costs $3.25 to wash one load of laundry in a Santa Barbara laundromat. and that's not including the dry time.
• I'm going to Chipotle approximately 37 seconds after I finish this blog.
• I'm not doing so well on the math portions of my GRE study book. which makes me very nervous.
• my mom and I have been talking more frequently than usual. and by more frequently I mean three times per month rather than one.
• I think it's because she's happy I have a boyfriend, which disproves her theories about my being a lesbian. and she's anxious for grandchildren. 
• all my silly costumes are sitting on the SB Young Life doorstep in a giant black plastic bag. apparently I've grown out of them. it's a very sad day. I secretly kept four items. for what use I have no idea, considering I no longer lead YL and don't go to themed parties, but they were too epic to part from. they are: two 80's windbreakers, a pair of hot pink spandex, and a furry vest.

No more news. 

RIP Steve Jobs.

Stretch Marks and Love Handles.

You know how I know he's the one?

He likes doing puzzles almost more than I do. About 54% of our free time together is spent puzzling, hovering over our dining room table (which is never used for dining, and always used for puzzling).

Not only does he like puzzles, he cooks for me. The way to my heart is clearly through my stomach and my boyfriend is an incredible cook. Just this morning he made me, go ahead and gasp, a peanut butter and jelly omelet. I know I know, sounds disgusting, but you gotta come over and try one. It doesn't even look like an omelet...looks more like a crepe, with egg texture.

Not only does he like puzzles, and he cooks for me, he has the same great taste in music as I do. For my birthday he made me 17 mix cds. Hellloooooo...he's a winner. We went to a Trevor Hall concert the other night together. I adore Santa Barbara. Not only is there great live music available all the time (we're going to Paul Simon later this month) but we can walk to it. Magical.

In other news, I'm applying to grad school again. Epic fail on the creative writing trek to Portland...I've decided to apply to UCSB and Antioch for my teaching credential...going for elementary school. It feels good to be studying again...I've got several rather expensive standardized tests coming up...which I'm not so excited about...but studying for them is, I don't know if 'fun' would be the right word, but enjoyable will suffice. It's nice to have a goal again...it's been awhile since I've had one of those.

Tomorrow starts the marathon training schedule once again...we'll see how long it lasts.

As far as means of gainful employment, I'm a professional child watcher. Does that make me sound like a pedophile? Oh sorry, I meant supernanny extraordinaire. Is that better? I watch children for approximately 35 to 40 hours a week and I tutor a child for another 4 hours a week. I have nights and weekends off and I'm able to pay my bills. I much prefer professional child watching over slinging drinks and selling my soul to the promotions department of Sandbar. And yeah, I was a lifeguard once for a family camp, but I'll never do that again. I'd work for the family camp again but lifeguarding just ain't for me dudes. Staring at a pool for 4 hours at a time is excruciating. Not my cup of tea.

I read a lot more these days. I strap up the babe in the bjorn and walk for about 45 minutes a day and not only does the child fall asleep, but I get some solid page turning time in. I've read three books in the past three weeks and I'm currently working on Chuck Klosterman's Killing Yourself To Live. Interesting concept. The two Chuck's in my life are fascinating writers. Chuck Palahniuk is an incredible writer as well. Once I plugged in one of my droppin geez blogs into this "Compare your writing style to a famous author" website, and my winning answer was Chuck Palahniuk. I was honored.

Although I read more, my writing life has taken a serious blow. I'm attempting to jump back on the horse but I don't know that I have the time to pursue this whole marathon thing again, nurture a healthy relationship with a boy, work full time, aaand write. Nurture a healthy relationship, ha, I sound like a pre-marital counselor...which reminds me, I sorta wanna start looking into that. Now if only I had the extra money to throw at it, but no, I have to spend all my extra cash monies on standardized tests...oh, and puzzles.

Other not so notable but rather entertaining reflections on my life include..

1. I've become one of Chipotle's number one customers as I eat there at least once a week.
2. I gained the equivalent of the freshman 15 over the summer. Although I'm not a freshman, these hips ain't lying as they spill over the sides of all of my jeans. Hello muffin top. You depress me and I hate you.
3. I've thought about going to Oregon to visit in December but grips of paranoia seize my body as I envision driving in snow and ice. Yeah, not so sure about that.
4. It's been a year since the season finale of True Life: I'm an Intern at Washington Family Ranch. It's just weird.
5. Jalapeno flavored food items are officially my new vice.
6. A baby threw up on me the other day.
7. There were dehydrated blueberries in it.
8. I watched a movie called The Fourth Kind last night. And I officially believe in alien abduction now.
9. I left my phone on top of my boyfriend's car whilst getting gas and then proceeded to drive away. And then I watched it fly off in the rear view mirror. We then proceeded to pull over, run back, and retrieve the obliterated phone. I saved $250 bucks by presenting the remains to the insurance company. What could have been a $350 dollar bonehead move, since became a $100 bonehead move. Hooray.
10. I don't really write letters anymore. It's sad.
11. My old roommate de-friended me on Facebook. I think it's because I accidentally took her vegetable steamer when I moved away.
12. There's a bicycle perched behind my table in the corner of the coffee shop that I'm currently sitting at. I've hit my head on the tire approximately 7 times in the past hour.

Ok. I guess that's it for now.

Until next time, read a book, eat some jalapeno chips, and check out Trevor Hall's new album.

The end.