All posts for the month May, 2015

What an odd thing to say

Published May 31, 2015 by Lynda Christine Rodriguez

I will be the first to admit that a lot of what I say doesn’t make much sense and seems to come out of left field (But how come when Kevin Costner did it, he got a great movie with possibly the best James Earl Jones quote  ever in it. “I am going to hit you with this crowbar until you go away.” That is also something that probably wouldn’t sound as good coming from me.)

So anyway, as I’m hurtling down the next few days until school gets out (Only six more days with students), I’m feeling a bit scattered and disoriented. (I guess the major difference there is now I’m aware of it.) I have a billion or so things to do and the stress and horrors of the last several days has given me laryngitis for the second time this school year.   Of course, now it seems I have a lot to say.

Sometimes my crazy bubbles to the surface and I have to let it out. I truly understand that not everyone gets how I think, and when I try to explain it, it just sounds even nuttier. Yesterday I was at a meeting and someone was reminiscing about how her family used to go down to the seashore in New England when the lobster boats came in and they would enjoy seafood.

I immediately got the giggles because of course, I pictured lobsters actually steering and sailing the ship while their lobster wives and children looked out gleefully anxious to see their lobster pops come home. Then I had to explain why I was laughing.  I couldn’t let that thought go, because when someone else talked about fresh octopus salad, of course I thought about a lobster with a different salad ingredient with each tentacle and wearing a chef’s hat. That thought developed until it became a lobster hunting and catching an octopus.

I kept that thought to myself.

In other news, I have discovered evidence to support my I’m-actually-dead-and-wending-my-way-through-purgatory-and that’s-why-all-of-this-ridiculous-crap-keeps-happening-to-me theory.

But more about that later.

Both at the same time

Published May 25, 2015 by Lynda Christine Rodriguez

As strange and bizarre as my life is (Imagine, I know you find that hard to believe) sometimes I can’t think of anything to write about. (I’m waiting to see what else happens to the state of Juan Diego on my grandmother’s front lawn. I only have half of the story right now.)

Whenever I get stuck for ideas, I usally cruise the Xo Jane site or Jezebel, because I just love those snarky babes. (That is meant as a huge compliment. There are whole days when I long for someone to call me a snarky babe. I also go out with these snarky babe dreams and come back with crazy bitch reality.) Anyway, I looked at XO Jane but just felt guilty that I’m not quite up on actual news enough to comment with the right edge, or intelligent snark that XO deserves.

Jezebel got me. They had a while new angle on the Duggar horror (I’m speaking of the child molestation, not the fact that one woman who is basically a baby factory is allowed to be quoted on actual decisions and makes  statements that have an impact on her children and possibly the misinformed at large, when we know that pregnant and post pregnancy women are in a kerfuffle of hormones and if you do the math, how much of her life has she spent being pregnant? (Really, do the math, I’m terrible at math.)

Of course, I’m talking about the Josh Duggar child molestation thing. If you have been living in a cave on Mars with your fingers in your ears (Move over, I’ll join you!) follow the link

And while you’re there, check out the story the new French Law that states grocery stores will be fined if they waste unsold food.  I’m glad someone is thinking about this. I went on a rant about wasted water at school the other day. Just the number of almost full water bottles that get throw away at the end of the day is embarrassing.

Check it out. There’s some fun stuff.

I’ll get back to you on Juan Diego and his mysterious plight.

I’m just sayin’

Published May 23, 2015 by Lynda Christine Rodriguez

I love words. I also love knowledge (In fact, I yearn for it.) That’s why I am finding it difficult to believe that I can’t seem to shove the letters and thoughts together in a cohesive strand to say what I mean.

I seem to be running from reality to the point that I forget it’s there (That would be reality, not the point. Come to think of it, I have a history of missing that, too.) Last night I found myself tearing up for what I thought was no reason.  Then I remembered, oh yeah, you did just have some pretty major emotional trauma recently and its not like you can cry it out because of oh yeah that brain thing. (Why yes, I am very casual in tone when I talk to myself.)

I am having a very difficult time finding the right words. (Not in an aphasia way, more in a figurative way. I did just crack myself up imagining myself digging through the clean sock basket looking for the right words to wear with this outfit. Not that I actually care what socks I wear with what. It’s just the image of pawing through my clutter and detritus (World’s worst maid service) to find the words.

It seems that the only thing I can do productively right now is stare at the wall and mock myself.

Now, back to the wall.

It suddenly makes sense (sort of.)

Published May 22, 2015 by Lynda Christine Rodriguez

This has been strange week. I am aware that most of my weeks, minutes, hours and glekmars are all mostly off center, but this particular week was exceptionally ridiculous.

Last Saturday I was taken by surprise when I received word that one of my aunts was not expected to survive the weekend. She was in the late stages of pancreatic cancer and was in a lo of pain, and this news wasn’t  a big surprise. The HUGE surprise was finding out that my grandmother was also on a rapid decline.

By Sunday evening, my family had lost both of these women.

This week has been blur of hurry up and wait and grim determination.  I was out of the classroom all week. I sort of miss my kids, and I will be back on Tuesday, starting the downslope that is the last 10 days of school.

Right now I feel bleary and sad and lost.

My day started out with a bizarre bent: My television spontaneously began to blare Japanese game shows in the middle of the night.  I’m not dead sure how this happened. My response  was surprisingly calm

Most people would have leaped out of bed screaming in horror and surprise.

I rolled over and pulled the blankets over my head.

After far too much thought, it occurs to me that my life has become such a mish-mash of weird happenings that even seizure inducing images underscored by the hellish screeching that can only be Japanese Idol or perhaps some bizarre feline marching band become part of the norm.

So maybe that’s it. Maybe weird Asian Caterwauling is the new normal for me. (Or the world’s worst diner/laundromat)

It is, but I’m not

Published May 18, 2015 by Lynda Christine Rodriguez

I have been actively trying NOT to beat myself up about things I can’t control. You wouldn’t think this would be a difficult task for someone is a reasonably sound, mostly functional adult.  (While I am an adult, I’m not going to commit to being a grown-up til the last possible moment. )  However, in addition to my tendency towards parenthetical hyperbole (Newest Hipster Bar) I also have the unerring ability to blame myself for just about everything.   (There is that recurring dream I have where my teeth inexplicably fall out. I have had this dream so many times, I have actually added the solution to this problem to my subconscious. You put the teeth in a glass of milk until you can get to a dentist. Also, the tooth loss dream means you’ve either said or eaten something you shouldn’t have. This should tell you what kind of shape my subconscious is in.)

There has been a lot going on in my world. The school year is ending and with it are coming a lot of changes that I didn’t see coming. I have a lot of stress in my life that is new but and not one bit improved. Into the usual blame spiral, I can now toss in a major family crisis.

Because I come from a large family, there is always something going on. My cousin Cindy said the reason every event in my family is usually accompanied by another event of equal or larger proportion of angst, food and anxiety is because there are so many of us and and there is a finite number of days in a year.  Her husband died and her sister got married within a few weeks of each other. (During that time, I also had a brain thing, so there’s that)

My Amanda Friend and AOG celebrated their wedding today. One of my aunts is in a coma. And my grandmother died today.

All of this has happened within the last two hours.  People are offering me condolences and I have been knee jerk responding “It’s ok.”  I talked to my principal and told him of my plans to come in until I have a specific family task. He told me to not worry about it and be with my family. A few minutes later I picked up my phone to call my friend Steve.

Steve Garrett, my good friend who died five years ago last Thursday.

So it’s ok.

But clearly, I am not.

It’s just a phrase.

Published May 4, 2015 by Lynda Christine Rodriguez

Something I kind of enjoy about myself, is my constant amazement at the Human Comedy. (Not the book or the inspired by movie authored by  William Saroyan. I read that book years ago and was grievously disappointed. Although, to be fair to the book, I was 12 at the time, so maybe I didn’t really give it much of a chance.) The Human Comedy of which I speak is the daily circus that happens out around me.

This amazement, coupled with my love of words and general knowledge, tends to make me a bit giggly in the presence of weird phrasing.  I rarely have time to sit back and just enjoy it. Considering that I spend most of my day with exhausted teachers and children under the age of 15, I have plenty of fodder for hilarity.  (If you knew some of the environment surrounding me, okay, my fifth period, you would see why I don’t find much of my daily struggle funny.)

No, the best place for funny is large family function. (And BOY, do I have a large family.)

Yesterday we celebrated my Grandmother’s 85th birthday. This is my mother’s side of the family, and her mother’s side of the family.

Now, my father’s family is made up of slightly bonkers and mule stubborn people. My mother’s family consists of possibly certifiable and moderately dangerous professional grudge holders.

(So you see, my personality did not have much of a chance.)

A few of the things that transpired yesterday that I find noteworthy:

One of my first cousins has colored her hair in such a startling fashion that I didn’t recognize her.

One of my distant cousins was dressed just like Mrs. Wiggins  from and old Carol Burnett and Tim Conway bit. Apparently no one noticed but me.

My cousin, who used to think he was Wonder Woman, no apparently thinks he’s Johnny Cash.

I almost lost control of a trolley of tortillas. I was able to stop it before it rained Mexican Food on my mother’s car.

There was plenty of cheese on the table. This is fortunate because at a previous party for this family, my aunt and uncle almost came to blows over cheese. Strangely enough, this aunt made a scarring remark to me when I was about 10 years old over a cheese incident.

My favorite moment was during the blessing, given by someone who I don’t think is either a member of my family or the clergy. I’m sure someone knows him, people just don’t wander in to family parties just to bless things, do they?

Anyway, he said we should all be grateful for the blessings that have been done to us.

I found the phrasing interesting, if not inspiring.

Some times that’s all it takes.