The Mac and Cheese

Macaroni and cheese from Sam's BBQ1 on Lower Roswell.

Naughty puppy

This kitty came to greet me when I pulled into my parking lot at school. I can't
get a decent picture of him because he's too friendly and keeps coming up to me.

I'm getting worked over by the band president for quitting the board earlier this week.  He handles workplace mediation cases in his day job, and I guess he was all set to work his magic on me and He Who Must Not Be Named already, even before I quit.  The president sent me a link to a questionnaire to determine my work style, or something like that, and we're going to meet to discuss my results.  Also to discuss "some basic ground rules as well as how to respond when you feel something is inappropriate." 

I'm staying in a hotel room all weekend for the symphony concerts.  The symphony assigns hotel rooms, and they put me with a girl in the horn section.  I've had assigned hotel rooms for this type of gig before, and my roommate is usually a woman in her 40s who goes to bed early and, at some point during the weekend, suggests that we get really crazy and walk to the store for ice cream.  Imagine my surprise when my roommate walked in and she's MAYBE 22.  She's nice and everything, but she's looking at me like I'm about to ask her to go out for milkshakes.  Yep, I'm the old lady.

First thing she did was ask if she could turn on the TV.  She put on the show that, to me, represents all the very worst things about TV and American culture: Man vs. Food.  Then she turned on a podcast on her laptop--sound on!--and watched both at the same time.  I was totally amused, on one hand, but on the other, it's like sharing a hotel room with one of my students.

Over all, we're getting along fine.  When we're both in the room, we're both glued to our computers.  Oh--she talks in her sleep.  Most of the time I can't understand what she says, but once I distinctly heard her roll over and whisper, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"  Then she hummed a little song.

Falling

The boss repairing my Texting-While-Walking damage.

Fall number one:

I was leaving band rehearsal Monday night, walking in flip-flops several inches thick, carrying my horn on one shoulder, and texting.  It was pretty dark.  And I wiped out.  I mean it--I ate pavement pretty hard.  I must have veered off the edge of the (already uneven) pavement, because my flip-flop suddenly twisted and slid off my heel, I windmilled for a second, and the next thing I knew, I was crouched on the ground with one knee on the pavement and one in the dirt.  I started to get up and fell again, much to my embarrassment.  My flip-flops had both my feet turned in, and my arm was pinned down by the strap on my gig bag, which had hit the ground pretty hard.  My phone, sunglasses, keys, and water bottle had flown all the hell over the place.  When I finally disentangled myself and scrambled up, I looked around to see if anyone had seen that, hehe--and nobody had.  I made a texting-while-walking joke to the only person close enough to have seen, and he said, "Did you fall?!"  I think he probably saw, but was being nice. 

That night, I put a bag of frozen edamame on my left ankle and a heating pad on my right knee, and switched them every 20 minutes.  That frustrated the hell out of Lily, who wanted to cuddle with the heating pad, but every time she went to be sure the kitchen was still there, she'd come back and find an ice pack where her cozy heating pad had been a few minutes earlier.  As my body relaxed, I realized I was going to be sore in a million places. 

The total damages:
two twisted ankles, one bad enough to have me limping for two days
two twisted knees, one bad enough to balance out the limping from the ankle on the other side
one wrenched shoulder
two sore wrists from breaking the fall
one banged elbow
two scraped knees, one bloody
two scraped palms, neither very bad
one rather sore spot in my back, probably twisted wrong
100% depleted pride
one scuffed flip-flop
euphonium damages: warped bell and fourth valve slide jammed into fourth valve

Luckily, I'd planned to take a day off Wednesday, so I was free to go to work at the shop and let the boss repair the damage to my horn.  I have a gig with the symphony this weekend, starting tonight (Thursday) and I would have had a really tough time playing it without the fourth valve.  I could do it, but it would suck.

- - -- --- ----- -------- ------------- ----------------------

Fall number two:
I quit the brass band board of directors.

It's been coming for a long time.  Two of my best friends have quit within the past few months, and while they said it was for personal reasons, they both admitted that they were tired of dealing with a certain obnoxious person.  I was tired of dealing with him, too, and I finally snapped.  I wrote a scathing letter of resignation reminding the board of all his power plays and ugly behavior, and clicked send.  Then I put my head between my knees and waited to catch my breath.  (It didn't take long.)  Only two of the board members responded, and one was in a private message to me.  I don't suppose the rest of the board is discussing me with one another, but I bet the asshole is dancing with glee.  I just figured I only have three more months on the board; I really wasn't going to accomplish anything significant in that time, but I was going to be miserable putting up with his shit.  By quitting, I may have added fuel to the fire that will eventually engulf him.  By the end of the day, I was comparing myself to Dumbledore.  It was a great feeling.  :)  And now I can forget about the political issues in the band and just play in it for my last few concerts.

Didn't this blog used to be about food?  Right.  I've been doing a lot of comfort eating; avoiding the mac and cheese and ice cream that I usually eat when I'm nervous, but I've had a few peanut butter cups, some pasta with parmesan, and way too many chicken tenders from Publix.  And a creme egg here and there.  Yesterday, to thank the boss for fixing my horn for me, I bought lunch at BBQ1: pulled pork, brisket, collard greens, green beans, and...yes...yesssss...the macaroni and cheese.  Ahhhhhh.  I gained a few pounds last month, but I've been sort of stable for a few weeks.  Hoping to get the weight loss back under control soon, right after my life becomes manageable.  Yeah, right.

Why I love teaching teenage boys

Betsy: Doing anything good for Spring Break?

Teenage Boy: My grandparents are taking the whole family on a Bahamas cruise.

Betsy: Sweet, that sounds fun.

Teenage Boy: I hope the ship has clubs, I really want to go dancing in the clubs.

Betsy: Oh, yeah?

Teenage Boy: Yeah, totally.

Betsy: You going to hug all the girls in the club?  Mr. Wilson said you hug all the girls in class instead of warming up every day.

Teenage Boy: Well, I'm going to DANCE with the girls, so, I'll, like, put my arm around their waist or something.

Betsy: Uh huh.

Teenage Boy: Maybe make out with them or something.

Betsy: Uhhhhh huh.

Teenage Boy: (struts around a little)

Betsy: You know what makes you really good at making out?  Lip slurs. 

Teenage Boy: Oh, really.

Betsy: Yes.

Teenage Boy: Practicing lip slurs makes you good at kissing?

Betsy: Yes, practicing lip slurs makes you good at kissing.

Teenage Boy: And, like, other stuff.  Right?

Betsy: (choke)

Teenage Boy: (smiling naughtily)

Betsy: What, like whistling?  Yes.  Practicing tuba makes you good at whistling.  And other stuff.

Catching up, again

The picture is from the dress rehearsal of my brass band concert last week.  We played at the Southeast Regional Tuba/Euphonium Conference in Chattanooga.  I spent the whole weekend, except for this rehearsal and concert, standing behind a table in the exhibitors' room for the conference.  I was working for the repair shop--we have a few tubas to sell on consignment, and other supplies and toys for brass players.  It was fun for a few hours, but after a while the sound of dozens of tuba players testing horns in one room at the same time was just miserable.  Even after I put in ear plugs, the sound was annoying, and the vibrations were physical; I felt like I was being pounded with mallets--soft, but persistent--for ten straight hours.  Told the boss that I don't mind doing stuff like that, but it would be nice to have someone relieve me for breaks more often.

Got home from that on Sunday and immediately got to work on the Bridge, the brass band journal that I edit for the North American Brass Band Association.  It takes me a few days to throw it all together, four times a year.  It probably wouldn't take as long if I did ANY work on it in between issues, but it seems like I'm always throwing things together in the few days before the deadline.  I've gotten better about saving all my submitted articles in the same Word file over the course of the 3-4 months beforehand, but I still have to gather everything up, edit it, format it and post it.

Got a call this morning asking if I'd sit in with a brass band for the championships next month.  I'll have to fly up to Michigan early to rehearse with them, and miss the NABBA board meeting the night before the competitions, but I am really glad to get to play with a band.  I'm still pissed at my own band for not going--actually, my band voted to go with at least 2/3 majority, but the board overruled it, 7-2.  So, I guess I'm pissed at the board, not the band.  I'm the only board member left who voted to go--the other quit the band and the board after the vote, partly because he was unable to defend the band's desire to go against the board's desire not to.

Ahh, politics. 

Next week I'm playing the euphonium solo in The Planets again, this time with the symphony at the university where I teach.  After that, I guess I'm baritoning for a couple of weeks to get ready for the NABBA competition, and then it's trombone shedding till Easter.  Then juries at the university, a brass band gig, and a wedding performance for a friend in May.  In June, John's coming to help move our stuff to TX, and I will probably stay with a friend till the end of June, when I'll fly to New England for a couple of brass band concerts in Vermont and Massachusetts.  And then I move to Texas.  The grad school thing is still out there--just waiting to hear whether I got an assistantship.  We'll see.

I spent the last couple of days doing nothing at all--just recharging the battery.  Today I'm doing laundry, woo hoo.  Tomorrow I'm going to see a production of The Music Man with a friend whose nephew is starring in it, or singing in it, or likes it...or something like that.  It seems I'm not happy unless I'm stupidbusy.

Oh, what, this journal is about food?  I've eaten some.  Not a whole lot of dairy, actually, but nothing all that healthy, either.  I've drunk a lot of coffee.  I haven't had sushi in forever, maybe I'll eat sushi tonight.  Eh.  Maybe I should start writing about my food again!  It made me eat better.

I went to Virginia for the grad school audition on Tuesday.  I've played better, for sure, but it was a great day.  I talked a lot with the tuba professor I'd be studying with/working for, and I met with the grad admissions director.  Now I'm just waiting to find out if I'll get an assistantship.  If I do, I'm there; if I don't, then I'm moving to Texas.  We'll see.

After the audition, I ate ice cream.  And mac and cheese.  Got up the next day and ate more mac and cheese.  Then I saw a friend who gave me more mac and cheese, so I went home and ate it.  Then I ate ice cream.  Today, I ate ice cream.  Tonight I have a headache.  I've gained a stupid amount of weight in the past two weeks, also.  Damn.

So, I have some people I just really, really dislike.  For the most part, I don't dislike people; I might not like stuff they do, I might find them extremely annoying, and I might have to keep them hidden on my facebook so that they don't drive me crazy.  This one guy, I reeeeeeally don't like.  Like, at all.  I don't have to worry about seeing him on my facebook, because he doesn't like me either, and he unfriended me a long time ago.  Sometimes I find myself doing really petty things, because I don't like him.  Today, he found a photo of himself that I posted a while back, before I disliked him quite as much as I do.  Someone must have tagged him in it, which I didn't mind, but today he commented on it.  Before I thought too hard, I deleted the photo.  I'm a little ashamed. 

Once again, I'm attempting to post a photo with this entry and the photo uploader isn't working.  It's not the pic I deleted from facebook, heh.  I suppose I'll add it to the entry later, as usual.