life in 3 acts
Fun:
Balloon Fiesta is over. I miss all the cool people I met over the 9 day period. Sadly, only one or two have FB. I spend one memorable evening partying at a local 4 in 1 bar with the Spanish gas balloon team, a German gas pilot, some chick from Detroit, the 22 yo girl I can't remember her name at all, and a Belgian hot air balloonist that I barely survived. Stay away from mysterious green shots, word of advice. As Sabrina - German pilot and America's Challenge launch director said in her cute accent, "I should have warned you that Europeans like to drink." I said, "Oh I like to drink too, but it's not the alcohol it's the 20 years less they have on me." I'm having my usual Fiesta hangover. Only 360 more days until Fiesta 2012.
Work:
It's been a weird day. Some people from another school from a rather distant part of the state dropped in for a tour of the school. They were originally scheduled to come last Tuesday, didn't show and didn't call. On Thursday, they did call saying they wanted to come on Monday having cleared their schedule (how nice of them) and such. Kris is supposed to be my principal's secretary and routinely bitches that I don't come to her for things and gets pissy when I wander into her territory. So, I made sure that I told Kris about the phone call and gave her their number. When they showed up today I got Kris and said, "Remember that message I gave you about the people from Socorro? They're here." When they were greeted by my principal they said they had left a message and my principal said, "No you didn't." I looked over at Kris and she was saying nothing. Oh my, Kris forgot to tell the principal they were coming. I sat back in my chair and watched Kris wonder if I was going to say anything while I thought about all the stupid shit she rags on me about. I said nothing, but wheels are turning. I need to figure out how to handle this kind of thing as there will be a next time.
Later our Special Ed site specialist told me that a Mom would be coming in to register her kid. No big deal, as it happens nearly every day. However, this kid has been coming to school since mid-September. Uh, what now? "Well these walk in ones tend to escape me." Translation: I forgot to have her register. State reporting cut off is Oct 12. It's Oct. 10. The site specialist informs the Mom that "We (ie. me) are here until 4:30 (4 actually) and only take 10 minutes to fill out the forms (30 minutes at least)." all while smiling at me. I then had to email district office letting them know what was going on as the cut off date is looming. The Mom is insisting she filled out the forms, but she is nowhere in the system and I have no paperwork whatsoever. Things went nuts after that. District has now emailed my site specialist's bosses and it's turned into a real mess. Somehow I've got to convince this Mom to come in tomorrow or her kid is out. I think just saying that will get her in my office.
Then there was the whole newsletter thing where I've been bugging my boss to approve the thing for almost 2 weeks and then suddenly at 10am she decided the thing had to go out at 10:30am. M'kay. That means copying, assembling and organizing 22 classrooms worth of newsletters minus the families that want theirs emailed after converting the document to PDF once changes were made. Yep. 30 minutes. It got done.
Household:
I was muttering about the garden of glasses and dirty dishes around that only I seem to be able to see and therefore am the only one able to pick them up. Ray, feet propped up on the coffee table while watching the Tigers, in his infinite wisdom uttered, "It's not my mess." I straightened up with both hands full of previously mentioned dirty dishes and said, "Oh so that 's the rule we're going by? I guess you'll be doing your own laundry and dishes then or do the dishes stop being yours when they get dirty? Does this mean the litter boxes are mine? The carpets and countertops too? How about the bedding? The newspapers on the floor that you read but don't put in recycling must be mine too." I could have listed way, way more things but didn't. Later when dinner was ready I told Ray, "Dinner is ready. I don't know who it belongs to, but it's ready."
I'm pretty sure he got the message.
Balloon Fiesta is over. I miss all the cool people I met over the 9 day period. Sadly, only one or two have FB. I spend one memorable evening partying at a local 4 in 1 bar with the Spanish gas balloon team, a German gas pilot, some chick from Detroit, the 22 yo girl I can't remember her name at all, and a Belgian hot air balloonist that I barely survived. Stay away from mysterious green shots, word of advice. As Sabrina - German pilot and America's Challenge launch director said in her cute accent, "I should have warned you that Europeans like to drink." I said, "Oh I like to drink too, but it's not the alcohol it's the 20 years less they have on me." I'm having my usual Fiesta hangover. Only 360 more days until Fiesta 2012.
Work:
It's been a weird day. Some people from another school from a rather distant part of the state dropped in for a tour of the school. They were originally scheduled to come last Tuesday, didn't show and didn't call. On Thursday, they did call saying they wanted to come on Monday having cleared their schedule (how nice of them) and such. Kris is supposed to be my principal's secretary and routinely bitches that I don't come to her for things and gets pissy when I wander into her territory. So, I made sure that I told Kris about the phone call and gave her their number. When they showed up today I got Kris and said, "Remember that message I gave you about the people from Socorro? They're here." When they were greeted by my principal they said they had left a message and my principal said, "No you didn't." I looked over at Kris and she was saying nothing. Oh my, Kris forgot to tell the principal they were coming. I sat back in my chair and watched Kris wonder if I was going to say anything while I thought about all the stupid shit she rags on me about. I said nothing, but wheels are turning. I need to figure out how to handle this kind of thing as there will be a next time.
Later our Special Ed site specialist told me that a Mom would be coming in to register her kid. No big deal, as it happens nearly every day. However, this kid has been coming to school since mid-September. Uh, what now? "Well these walk in ones tend to escape me." Translation: I forgot to have her register. State reporting cut off is Oct 12. It's Oct. 10. The site specialist informs the Mom that "We (ie. me) are here until 4:30 (4 actually) and only take 10 minutes to fill out the forms (30 minutes at least)." all while smiling at me. I then had to email district office letting them know what was going on as the cut off date is looming. The Mom is insisting she filled out the forms, but she is nowhere in the system and I have no paperwork whatsoever. Things went nuts after that. District has now emailed my site specialist's bosses and it's turned into a real mess. Somehow I've got to convince this Mom to come in tomorrow or her kid is out. I think just saying that will get her in my office.
Then there was the whole newsletter thing where I've been bugging my boss to approve the thing for almost 2 weeks and then suddenly at 10am she decided the thing had to go out at 10:30am. M'kay. That means copying, assembling and organizing 22 classrooms worth of newsletters minus the families that want theirs emailed after converting the document to PDF once changes were made. Yep. 30 minutes. It got done.
Household:
I was muttering about the garden of glasses and dirty dishes around that only I seem to be able to see and therefore am the only one able to pick them up. Ray, feet propped up on the coffee table while watching the Tigers, in his infinite wisdom uttered, "It's not my mess." I straightened up with both hands full of previously mentioned dirty dishes and said, "Oh so that 's the rule we're going by? I guess you'll be doing your own laundry and dishes then or do the dishes stop being yours when they get dirty? Does this mean the litter boxes are mine? The carpets and countertops too? How about the bedding? The newspapers on the floor that you read but don't put in recycling must be mine too." I could have listed way, way more things but didn't. Later when dinner was ready I told Ray, "Dinner is ready. I don't know who it belongs to, but it's ready."
I'm pretty sure he got the message.