It was midterm week this week. My lovely students were indeed lovely, and took their tests without too much bitching and moaning. My lovely school district gives us half-days during midterm week, so that we can grade our tests in the afternoons and get the grades in tout de suite. Lovely thing, that.
Well, we had ourselves a bit of weather here this week, too. We got about 3 inches of snow, topped by about a half-inch of ice. My northern friends scoff at this kind of snowfall. I admit to scoffing slightly at it, myself, but it got me a snow day, so I ain't scoffing too loud, ya know?
I've also discovered that I can't do the South Beach thing anymore - the Phase One brought out all of my disordered eating tendencies that the DS had put into remission. Pair those tendencies with a strong Oppositional streak, and the outcome of a week of sugar/starch deprivation was a carbohydrate orgy that would make Caligula blush and stammer. I need to skip Phase One entirely. It's not good for my mental health.
Last weekend, the WCM and his brother, AC, and I all went up to NYC for a Saturday. After an amazing lunch at the Carnegie Deli - seriously? who needs a sandwich that's 8 inches tall? - we went to an antique show at the Armory. This was kind of a "walk and gawk" event, as nobody had the thousands of dollars necessary to buy even the smallest of trinkets on display. I cut out of there a little early, as the boys were talking scrap metal with an armor dealer, and headed up to Madison Avenue, where I could continue the walking and gawking.
I love Madison Avenue. I stopped in a few couture houses where the price of a gown is more than my car and did a bit of salivating. My main destination, though, was La Maison du Chocolat. I sat in their teensy cafe section and had a cup of hot chocolate and a selection of chocolates. The price was exorbitant, but the taste... simply exquisite. The hot chocolate was thick and rich, hot and sweet, dark and spicy - every good combination in one cup. I bought a tiny box of chocolates to go home with me, too.
Once I was fortified, I paid up and continued to hoof it up Madison until about 75th, where I turned left, found Fifth Avenue and the Metropolitan Museum of Art. I met the boys there in the gift shop, then we hit the Arms and Armor exhibit. They really can't help themselves. They love that shit. We strolled around, made a few gift shop purchases, and then caught a cab to our restaurant - Churascaria Plataforma. If you, like me, are a carnivore of the highest order, then this is your Nirvana. It was a celebration of roasted meats, of seared outer surfaces with juicy red centers. Delicious. Pricy, yes, but still delicious.
American Idol has come on, taking a bunch of time that I previously put to better use and rendering me a slack-jawed, mouth-breathing slave to the giant box. I've discovered over the last year or so that I can go for days without turning the thing on, if left by myself. There's just not much I want to watch.
Oh, hey! Speaking of watching things! I watched the whole of the Inauguration, from soup to nuts. Our whole school did, too. We dedicated the day to it. I really liked being able to do it, since I voted for this one, and since it represents such a turning point in our nation's history. Two things, though:
1. Aretha Franklin's unique phrasing of "America, the Beautiful." "My Cunt Tree 'Tis Of Thee" was rather, well, unfortunate. I just shook my head at that and the ginormous gawdy church hat she was sporting.
2. The poet. What. The. Fuck. Is. Up. With. The. Expressionless. Over-enunciated. Recital. Of. A. Fairly. Uninspiring. Frankly. Boring. Poem.? Praise. For. The. Day. When. She. Learns. About. Phrasing. And. Intonation.
Do you know when you dial information and the automated voice comes back with your number? You know the one, where the lady has recorded all the numbers using different inflections and the computer sorts them all out and assigns the inflection relative to the number's position in the strand to make it sound natural and comprehensible? Well, the automated telephone lady sounds more natural than this poet's rendition of her own poem.
The scrapbooking has gone pretty well. I've continued to play with my supplies in the basement, but honestly, it's pretty freaking cold down there. I have a space heater turned up to "Bowels of Hell" and it's just rendering it tolerable.
Ma Dawgs be illin'. Unfortunately, Slider, my old doggie has suffered a bout of intestinal distress, and has shat copiously all over the kitchen floor. He's been on the rice diet for the past two days, and seems to be recovering nicely. Zippy, the slightly younger and ever-so-much-more-spry doggie, decided not to be outdone in the excrement department, and one-upped his brother in a most spectacular fashion.
See, Trader Joe's makes Candy Cane Joe Joe's (think Oreos with bits of candy cane in the creme) once a year, around Christmas. I love them soooo much that, this year, the WCM went and bought me a case of them, so I would not have to suffer without them at any point in the year. He can be such a sweetheart sometimes.
Anyhow, they are usually kept locked in the basement. A couple of days ago, I found that I had neglected to lock the basement door and a certain little red dog had not only made a trip down there, but had chewed a hole through the side of the cardboard case, gnawed the side off a box of cookies, extracted the plastic tray of 30 Joe Joe's and eaten every single one. He, also, now has the shits.
So, I now have the joy of wiping two corgi bunny-butts every time they come in from outside. I've also mopped the kitchen floor at least 6 times in the last 4 days. I love my dogs, but I'm done with canines. I'm getting a cat the next time the maternal urge hits.
I think that's enough for now. Hope y'all feel updated!