Small Town Wren

This year was the year of the Never-Ending Birthday. A solid week and a half of celebrations.

If I include every single thing that I did that I don’t normally do, this included: bowling, billiards, dancing, drinking (heavily), milkshakes, icecream, icecream cake, long-lost friends, long-lost dates, movies, swimming, hiking, dunes, baking, more baking, cake, soup, wine, wine, wine, heels, driving, trains, boys, girls, fake-lesbians, creepy dudes, free drinks, birthday crowns, birthday hugs, end-of-school hugs, end-of-school tears, smiles, new buddy games.

Oof. Pardon me while I recover.

So about that Mono…I’m starting to feel a lot better. I’m still having my sicker-than-anything moments, but I feel okay more often than I don’t. I finally have enough energy to do more than sit on my sofa in a sad, sick, stupor watching Law & Order reruns.

Which is nice, because it’s just in time for my first spring break! One of the perks of being in a teacher-education program and working in a public school is that I get two spring breaks. I’m out of classes this week, and at the end of March I’m out of work for a week, and most of my classes that week have been cancelled. It’s nice to have professors who work in the same sector.

This whole mono thing started several weeks ago when my sister threw her birthday party at Delilah’s that she didn’t attend due to having mono. We still had the party though, and I went, and had my last huzzah before I got mono. Well, since we’re both feeling up to being people again, we went into the city for a makeup party at Tavern. This was the first time out I’ve ever had to buy a drink for myself. I guess one out of four is still okay, but not what I’m used to. For record: at the first party, I paid exactly $0 and got 2 glasses of wine, 4 shots, and a gin & tonic. I don’t really drink a lot, but when I do, I drink whatever is bought.

Also for the record: the drinks at Tavern are awful and overpriced. Regardless, we had a good time. Lots of friends showed up, a game of impromptu charades was played, and there was lots of random fake-dancing. I also got to show off the arrows I’ve been drawing on my fingers of late at work to help redirect my buddy’s focus.  They were definitely used in the night to point out random things to a bunch of drunk 20-somethings. I’m just glad I didn’t get groped by the bros who weren’t in our group. Random gropings from bros is probably the biggest reason why I don’t go out very often.

I took my first ever paid sick day yesterday. I’ve never had a job before that offers such snazzy benefits, so I’m used to suffering like a dog through work for money I need, or being short on cash later on. I terribly needed the sleep, but it still felt a little naughty to be at home, getting paid, when I should have been at work. I was very sick–it’s still not clear if I have mono or the worst cold of my life–and the 12 solid hours of sleep made me feel a lot better. I would have died and been unable to do my job had I gone in, but it still felt like playing hooky.

This is where my work ethic is in hyper-drive. It’s really hard for me to take day off and not feel guilty about it. I’m really committed to my job. I feel obligated to be there for all the children I serve (well beyond just my super buddy), and I should. They depend on me for a lot of things and I’m in no position to let them down.

I’m supposed to be taking care myself though. I made that commitment, too. And boy, if I can’t put myself to bed when I’m terribly ill, I’m in real trouble on that front. Nobody said I had to like it. But there really is no reason for me to feel guilty for doing what was best for me, and ultimately my co-workers and students. I shouldn’t feel bad for taking the sick pay, because, in reality, I did my job a favor by not coming in sick, right? I need to hold on to that.

Oh, look at that, the new year happened!  I disappeared for the holidays but I shall be returning in full force this week. Promise promise promise.

I finally got that bugger H1N1 vaccine today. Du Page County has been using the appointment system that Kane County finally moved to after the major disaster I previously encountered. I live in Batavia, which straddles the county line, so I figured out I could actually get a Du Page appointment.  It took about 20 minutes from arrival to departure. I laugh at the long lines others braved only to be turned away.

I did the flu mist. My mother wanted me to get the injection under some fantasy that they’re safer, but that’s pretty damn unethical. Not everyone can use the mist, so to take an injection I don’t need takes it away from someone else. Oh morals. Why does it seem like I’m the only one who has any anymore?

Today marks a big day in our house.  We switched cable companies, and my mother finally let go of her infernal VCR.  And by let go, I mean we ripped it from her cold, dead hands.

Okay, not quite, but she only let it go due to not having any other choices. Though can I point out that it’s still sitting under our television, not hooked up to a damn thing?  Change can be oh-so-hard in this house.  She’s still skeptical of the DVR that arrived, even after I on-the-fly recorded a rerun of Law & Order for her.

I, however, am one happy camper.  We finally have The National Geographic Channel!  Oh how I have missed it’s educational and somewhat silly programming since I left New York City.  Bonus: our internet seems to (finally!) work properly, too.

Growing up, I loved the Field Museum.  We’d go almost every year I was in elementary and middle school for field trips, and my family went often as well.  That was one of the advantages of growing up 40 miles west of Chicago: awesome day trips.  I remember being completely in awe when Sue was first unveiled.

My parents decided they wanted to see the Pirates special exhibit before it closed, so off we went.  I still think 8 is a bit early to wake up on a Sunday, but for a museum…always!  It was a bit strange to go back; I honestly haven’t been in at least 6 years.  I’d forgotten just how child friendly the exhibits are.  This isn’t to say that is bad, just that the anthropologist in me always craves more information.

The exhibit was great.  I was pleased by how few inaccuracies there were, though I was saddened that the women were brushed aside to a footnote.  It’s easy to do, but women have always been an important part of the pirate story.  On the other end of the spectrum, how much detail there was in the area of specific names and routes was incredible.  I haven’t encountered personal details in a pirate exhibit before. It was very refreshing.  It was also surprising just how frank they were about the drowning of a 10-year-old boy named John King.  While the kids who were in the exhibit around us were grossed out by his bone fragment, it made me smile.  I think children should be confronted with human remains far more often than they are.