Sunday, February 28, 2010

For J.?

Nothing sounds:

...more like melting snow than Elliot Smith.

Saturday, February 27, 2010

Do I miss flip flops this much?


J. is out with K. and I am home with Esther. Sort of bummed/bored, but figured I would use the opportunity to make something better for dinner than I would have had if I'd gone out tonight since tomorrow morning is my first weigh in since rejoining Weight Watchers (for, admittedly, something like the sixth time).

I made a turkey sausage & white bean baked pasta.

1 cup cooked whole wheat pasta
1/3 cup white beans
2 tsp. olive oil
1 clove garlic
1 link Italian turkey sausage
1 cup pre-made homemade marinara sauce
1 serving fat free ricotta cheese
1 serving part skim mozzarella

I sauteed the turkey sausage in a little bit of olive oil and 1 clove of garlic. Then I added a cup of some sauce I had leftover and had defrosted earlier as well as 1/3 of a can of rinsed white beans. I boiled my pasta to al dente while the sauce heated up. When it was done I added the pasta to the sauce, followed by the ricotta cheese. I put it all in an ovensafe baking dish and added the mozzarella on top. I baked this at 350 for about fifteen minutes and then broiled it for 3 to brown the mozzarella.


Ate it all.

My points worked out okay; let's see how the weigh in goes.


We went back to work on Monday. It was fairly terrible. I dreaded going back and didn't want to get out of bed in the morning.

Which is upsetting.

I loved my job and I loved it hard for the past three years and this year has been difficult and I am not loving it so much anymore.

It makes me feel really sad. Like I don't belong there anymore. Like what I thought I'd found didn't really exist in the first place.

Sunday, February 21, 2010


I woke up early and planned and planned and planned for the new unit I am starting. I'm not finished and I still have student work to go over, but I feel less panicky about going back tomorrow now that some of that has been focused on.

K. and C. and L. and D. came over and we hung around the apartment and drank wine and ate cheese and crackers and played video games for awhile. Then we met Jar. on our walk over to Tanoreen.

Yum. We ordered so many appetizers that by the time our entrees came we were all sort of too full. Everyone ate about half of their main course and moaned a little bit and really I think we all sort of just wanted more appetizers.

We had:
  • 2 orders of the fried brussels sprouts that are covered in a pomegranate tahini sauce and then sprinkled with panko bread crumbs
  • 2 orders of chicken sireg borek
  • 1 order of hummus
  • 1 order of olive paste
  • 1 fatoush salad w/ feta
And then? When all of that was said and done? The boys decided they wanted more sireg borek and ordered another plate.

It was a very fun dinner and Tanoreen has officially become my favorite restaurant in this neighborhood. After dinner we went to The Pourhouse which was very empty when we got there and I think we intended to only stay for a drink because Kenny and Colleen needed to go home but then we wound up staying there for two and a half hours playing lawn darts and drinking too much.

L. and C. and I decided that we are going to do this every month - we will rotate neighborhoods and spend one weekend a month exploring a new bar and a new restaurant in each other's neighborhoods. March is Greenpoint. The neighborhood hop club.

I think it will be really fun. I can't like C. anymore that I do for real. She is hilarious and really good for K. who, admittedly, is not the easiest cowboy to get along with. I had a great time hanging out with her and L. and on a very selfish level am just thankful I get along so well with the soon to be wife of my husband's best friend.

Anyway. Then we walked home - stopping at the bagel store of course - and came back here so K. and C. could call car service and I passed out. Like, I don't even remember laying down to go to sleep.

It was a fun night but I am up very early and my belly is feeling a little shaky and I can't believe how much weight I've gone and gained on vacation. Not having a spring break vacation to plan right now is also terrible because a.) that is my FAVORITE number one most favorite thing to do and b.) I have always been successful at vacation dieting. Now I'm just pale and fat and planless. Sad.

Friday, February 19, 2010


...we took Esther to the dog run and then went for a two hour walk.

And watched two more episodes of "The Wire."

And now G. is here.

But I will plan. I will.

(Do you see why I'm so distracted?)

See how cute?

(I am...

...obviously not lesson planning.)

Also love.



How did that happen?

This week I was supposed to:
  • organize the office
  • purchase knick-knacks for the dining room
  • hang curtains in the dining room
  • organize the closets downstairs
  • plan my entire next unit
  • finish grading late work
  • get packets together for next Wednesday's presentation
  • walk; a lot; everyday
  • join WW again
This week I:

  • sort of half organized the office
  • purchased a covered antique butter dish and matzah ball salt and pepper shakers for the dining room (but also got a pair for Karen and Josh and Ellen and Ira)
  • walked; a little; every day
  • spent too much money
  • ate out or ordered in every day except for Tuesday
I am feel unproductive and pressured. Had terrible work nightmares last night about not being ready for things. The sort of anxiety dreams I have only at the very end of August.

I am going to plan right now.

Thursday, February 18, 2010

(Do you see...

...what happens when I take off my pajamas?)


This afternoon my manicurist scolded me for not having any children yet. According to her, four years is too long to be married without having children.

Now, I took this in stride and sort of brushed it off. But. What if I couldn't have children? What if I'd been trying to have children for the past four years without success? What if I'd miscarried? Or had to terminate a pregnancy?

Or what if I just didn't want to have children?

I feel like far too often people harass me (although usually with good intentions, this is true) about not having kids yet. And clearly I'm starting to become increasingly sensitive.

What if I had answered honestly?

I could have said:

My husband's penis is broken. We're waiting to have it repaired.

My husband wasn't ready to have children until very recently; he's bi-polar and for awhile he didn't know if he wanted to stay married.

My husband is bi-polar and his sister is clinically depressed and has OCD and my father is a recovering drug addict and my mother is addicted to pain meds; we're not sure we trust our gene pool.

But of course, I just tipped her.

Smelly vacation.

Also, I haven't washed my hair in two days. Nor have I taken off these pajamas in just as long. Beginning to worry.


Decided to keep looking for a doctor and made a new appointment to meet with a new doctor Jay is sort of satisfied with March 12th. So, of course, until March 12th we both be separate bundles of nerves who avoid discussing what is making us so nervous until one (or the both) of us accidentally drinks an entire bottle of red wine.

Not that this has happened before.

I would think that after eight years of togetherness, six years of co-habitation, and almost four years of marriage we'd be more comfortable talking about things that make us uncomfortable. We are, however, not. I am also not comfortable with total daytime nudity or smelly farts when I'm not also farting. Also, I still hate football. And wish he didn't spend my money buying sneakers.

And this makes me think of something that occurred to me this weekend. We were out shopping for apartment stuff. I wanted a jewelery stand I'd seen at Urban Outfitters (it's a white tree...really it) and to hunt around for other stuff for the new china cabinet and bookcase configuration we have going on in the dining room. In buying this stuff and then arranging it here back at home, it made me feel like certain spaces in the apartment (i.e. every room except for the living room) is mine. Like, the way the bedroom is decorated? Is pretty much how my bedroom would be decorated if I lived alone. And the dining room? There is no real J. there either. Primarily because he couldn't have cared less while we picking out the furniture...and does not really care at all about things like where does all of wedding serve ware go. But still.

Are all homes like that?

Or, more interestingly, how does he feel about that? Does he feel like a guest in his own bedroom?

I love our bedroom. I spend most of my time in the apartment there. I mean, in the new apartment, the living room is downstairs and is sort of dark and we haven't made it seem warm and cozy yet, so I guess it's understandable. But I've always, in all of our apartments, favored our bedroom.

Also, to be honest, if I asked J. if this whole bedroom thing bothered him and he said yes? I'm not sure I'd be so open to changing much. Like, if I were to say, "J., what would make you feel more at home in this room?" and his reply was, "I would like to hang these needlepoint guns I got for $1 at the Salvation Army in 1998," I'd probably have to say no.

Although he doesn't have needlepoint guns. That would maybe be kind of cool enough to squeeze in. So perhaps that was a bad example.

Unrelated thought: I never want to go back to work ever again. I don't want to plan another lesson or grade another late essay. I don't want to see my children or put my sad lunch in the teacher's refrigerator EVER AGAIN.

Not good. Many weeks left in this year. Oy.

Wednesday, February 17, 2010

New adventures.

So, we are officially going about the business of making a baby.

We can't just up and do this like most people our age (get drunk and accidentally create a new life post-happy hour); J. needs to have a medical procedure done first so that the procreating can get underway. This week we began looking for a doctor/surgeon with whom we could schedule an appointment with who also accepts our insurance - which was difficult at best. I'm not sure how people did this before the internet.

And J. is weird about talking to people about this (even his parents who very clearly are aware of the situation) so it's not like I can just post on Facebook "Hey - we need a urologist who performs microsurgery and accepts GHI...any recommendations?" and really, the whole process of even figuring out how to use our insurance for this (what if we go with a doctor out of network; what are the co-pays involved; how does our hospital insurance differ from our regular coverage; if a doctor isn't covered by our carrier but is covered by our hospital plan, do we have to pay out of network...the list goes on and on and on...)

And this is all so time consuming. J. made an appointment for the beginning of March and we're now hoping to have the procedure done over Spring break at the end of March which means that we can't actually get to getting it on until the end of May and everything I've read over the past few months says that after this procedure is done it typically takes between 6 months to a year to conceive...IF you're able to naturally conceive after all is said and done.

So I'm a little stressed out. Wondering all of the time how and when this is all going to happen. All the while furtively looking at nursery bedding and maternity dresses like a weirdo.

Tuesday, February 16, 2010


Things done:

Kitchen and Dining room were painted before we moved in.

Everything was cleaned.

Bedroom is curtained. Three pictures have been hung. Closet organized.

Dining room furniture has been delivered. Serving pieces and fun stuff are on display.

Kitchen island is assembled and cabinets are organized.

Living room furniture is assembled and DVDs and records are organized. Old towels have been put out in the half bath downstairs. The closets down there are a mess of out of season clothes and luggage.

The office is unpacked but unorganized. The filing cabinet is not put together. We still need to get new legs for the desk and curtains that make sense. There is not enough space to put all of the nonsense that is in there away in any meaningful organizational type functional way. So when we put a baby in there? And have to find other places for all of the crap currently laying on the floor behind me? The apartment is going to feel a lot smaller.

To do (related to apartment):

Purchase curtains for the dining room and office, new legs for the desk, lamps for the dining room and bedroom, and possibly another bookcase for the office. Assemble the filing cabinet for the office and put stuff like J.'s bike wheel in the garage. Get cord organizer for under desk (!!!).

To do (unrelated to apartment):

Plan rest of Persuasive Unit, see doctor about making baby, freak out about making baby, make baby.


It is snowing. Again. This winter suddenly, here in the middle of February, is starting to feel really, really long. Walking Esther in my pajamas amidst the slushy grossness of last week's leftover snow and this morning's sad offering was almost enough to send me cowering back to my pillows. But I knew I wouldn't be able to go back to sleep.

So here I am.

Drinking sad, not very good coffee.

Debating going to Weight Watchers this morning.

Wondering what else should be done with this day.