Welp, the first week of school is in the books...only 21 weeks more to go in the fall semester. It is the longest school semester EVER, and it is just beginning. We all managed to get through it, in spite of ourselves, the usual glitches, and the not so usual glitches. The internet crashed repeatedly, the printers died, paper was rationed, VPNs wouldn't connect, but that was the least of my concerns.
Time for more potty talk.
As you know, the International Department of BNDS is "temporarily" relocated to the library building. It's crowded. There's barely room to move about our rooms. The hallways are exceptionally narrow, for 600+ kids walking about on a nine period day. However, the REAL problem is the bathroom situation. At every pass period, there is a line out the door for the potty. There are three squatty potties for the whole lot of us on the second floor, 20+ classrooms in all. There is a Western potty in there, too, but it was being used as a storage closet. Other Western teachers complained about the lack of a proper sit down potty, so at the beginning of the year they moved all the crap out to make it available. Now we have FOUR potties for 200+ of us.
For a middle aged woman, with one kidney, a bladder the size of a peanut, and the slightest sneeze or hiccup which could prove disastrous......its a problem.
Except there's a BIGGER problem.
The Western potty was a storage closet for good reason. We complained, so they opened it up for our use. But the thing is, the potty is broken. As in a loose seal. And a cracked bowl. Which means, no less than five times a day, I go racing in to the bathroom (which is at the opposite end of the l-o-n-g hallway where my classroom is located). Because said potty is in such a sorry state, the bathroom stays in a permanent state of flooded, and I nearly slip and bust my a$$ at least four of the five trips a day. Back to the middle aged woman, one kidney, peanut bladder, etc., trying to jerk myself to stay upright in the flood, I barely make it to the broken potty before I have flooded myself.
Not funny.
So I have put in a request DAILY to maintenance (whoever that is) to get it repaired. It's been a week now. Their solution? Lay a mop on the floor to stop the tide. I can't make this crap up.
So now I go skidding in the flood, jerk myself upright, trip over a mop handle, and fall in to the stall while desperately trying to latch the door and undo my pants all in one swift motion. No bueno.
Still not funny.
It is now the end of the week, and it's still the mop solution. If it's not repaired by Monday, I have a notion to buy a new beeswax ring and a whole new toilet (which would take some MAJOR doing in the 'jing) and just install the damn thing myself. And y'all KNOW how much I hate being in and around other people's 'dirt', but I have just about had it. When I am done; I am DONE.
Which meant, the only thing left to do was to chuck it all and go celebrate the end of our first week in proper style- a trip to the east side in Sunlitun for happy hour at the Taco Bar. A bunch of us got happy; some more than others.
I, of course, love a good margarita, or two, or more....and some tacos de pescados with fresh guacamole. Oh. What. A. Night.
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| There were fourteen of us, old friends and new. After who knows how many margaritas and tacos, the manager came and brought shots of tequila for everyone. On. The. House. He loves us :) L to R is Kirsten, Jade, Steven, Carlos, Kevin, Will, Jeanette, Jarrod, me, Hank, Santosh, John, Karl (the tree) and Chris. A GOOD TIME WAS HAD BY ALL! |
The second half of our 'cultural outing' was a trip next door to The Bookworm, a really hip and swanky hangout. The Bookworm (of course) has books for browsing, a coffee house, a bar with craft beers, full restaurant, and they host cool events like writer's workshops, exchanges with visiting authors, foreign film movie nights and more. One of our own, Rob Wendt, was performing in a chamber music concert and we decided to go show our support.
Most everyone left in time for the start of concert- except for me- and three other stragglers who shall remain nameless to protect their 'innocence'. All I know is we ordered a pitcher of something pink that had more tequila and I don't know what all else, and that was all she wrote! I d on't know what it is about pink drinks, but they ALWAYS get to me. I stumbled in to The Bookworm at intermission (thank goodness I could casually 'sneak' in), and then the silliness commenced.
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| Rob, your playing was beautiful as always, and I really did enjoy myself. (I am just sorry it was one of those times where you get a fit of giggles and the more you try to contain yourself, the worse it becomes). I don't think I snorted in a fit of laughter, but I can't really be sure. |
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| The flautist was incredible. I would have loved to hear more of him; the soprano and her facial expressions however, just about sent me over the edge. And there was a cello player that struck me as looking just like her cello- like some pets and their owners. I. don't. even. know. |
Speaking of flautists, I appreciate a good flautist- or any good musician for that matter. After hearing this guy, I couldn't wait to get home and look up Ray West, from Big Pine Key in the Florida Keys. He plays an AMAZING jazz/funk/reggae flute that I think puts Ian Anderson of Jethro Tull to shame.
If you want to follow the link below, the opening scene will clue you in on why I love sailing, the ocean, and the Florida Keys so much. I've heard this guy many, many times all up and down the Keys. If you want to see some incredible flute playing (he scats on the flute!) wait until about the 3:30 mark.
Man, I miss the Keys life.
All in all, life in the 'jing isn't so very bad at all. We're making it work.
I still choose happy.
Friday night, I chose a lot of happy.
I will say this much, in spite of a raging headache until about noon the following day, it felt good to cut loose and have a good time. I seldom do it, but when I do- look out!
G'nite y'all!
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