Dies irae

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Yep, I’m mad today. Stupid insomnia anyhow.

For some reason, I awoke at 1 a.m. It’s been me against the world ever since. Howdya like that? Mood: completely annoyed.

At least I will be studentless today. That will help my mood, although filing the Mt. Everest of music stacked on my file cabinets won’t.

I must also check on the status of my new computers. I hope to hear good news. That will help my mood, although finding out they haven’t been ordered won’t.

I will finally have time for studying this weekend. That will help my mood, although the subject matter — and the fact that I am sick of all this and I don’t even want it anymore — won’t.

I hope there is cake left over from yesterday. That will help my mood, although going in and finding only the plastic snake decorations won’t.

I am crabby today. For many reasons. Why do I hate so many things? For instance, this morning I especially hate:

  1. That life is often cruel.
  2. This headache.
  3. The fact that I always, always choose to look in the wrong pocket first.
  4. That I am often unable to remember what was said to me five minutes ago.
  5. Mean people.
  6. That I am weeks behind in studying already, and …
  7. …that it doesn’t really matter. (PK – you called it quits close to the end…you’re OK with it, aren’t you?)
  8. My inability to figure it all out.
  9. Rehashing everything I did wrong this year.
  10. Missing Lars and Helen.

But hey…one thing I don’t hate is cooking Italian tonight with paisan Pruke Liddy. Bellissima.

Ciao, diavoli.

The Lunch Bunch loses one

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Our pal Les (who posts as “Mathman” here on RtB) is leaving after 10 years with the district. We had a little gathering today at the usual watering hole (the teacher lounge) to say bon voyage to him.

Best wishes, Mathman! Knock ’em dead in Arizona.

The most awesomely cute desert cake (and I do mean desert, not dessert).

L-R: Stein, Deb, Krista, Stoney, and the Mathman

Epilogue

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I promise I’m going to stop talking about the Cavs. After this.

When asked about leaving Cleveland, LeBron said:

“I don’t know. I haven’t thought about it just yet. I’m just going to take time off from basketball and not think about contracts or the (Orlando) game, period. I’ll relax with my family, we’ll figure out once it comes from them.”

There you have it, fiends. The standard “manswer.” Non-committal, evasive…

I know, boys — lemme have it. I deserve it. Hehe. Anyway, no more Cavs posts for awhile. Promise.

Elsewhere in the non-basketball world:

  • Kay and I had a fab rehearsal at my house (late) last night. I’m accompanying her on some great old hymns for her dad’s memorial service tonight.
  • I have only two more days of students — and they have only two more days of me.
  • I really, really really do not enjoy passive-aggressive people. There is a confrontation in my future. Bank on it.
  • The Indians beat the Yankees yesterday, and I didn’t see it. Imagine that.
  • Sometimes I wonder how a high school student who has been in choir since the 5th grade still doesn’t know the dress code for a performance. Is it me? Is it something I said?
  • I am not looking forward to a summer of studying. There will be no garden this July.

Fink, mental

*sigh*

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Maybe next year. Man, that sounds familiar, don’t it, Cleveland fans? And the 50-year drought continues.

I can hear LeBron in Mike Brown’s office tomorrow: You have GOT to get me some help out there.

I read in the Plain Dealer this morning that James, for the first time in his NBA career, refused to talk to reporters after a game. He also didn’t shake hands with a single Orlando player at the end. I didn’t see that particular scene because I couldn’t bear to watch the last 3 minutes.

NBA.com called it “a dream deferred.” I call it a nightmare which will continue until and unless the Cavaliers either get LBJ some support, or watch him sign with another team — which he might do anyway, regardless of the “I’m not looking to go anywhere else” catch-all, non-committal, meaningless statement.

Blah. Depressing. But hey, why get all sad-faced about the Cavs when I can talk about the Indians and their stellar season thus far?

Mercy.

Happy Sunday, fiends.

Fink, sore loser

Photo credit: Getty Images

Various & Sundry XIV

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Today, I confess some things; it’s good for the soul every once in awhile. Behold, my partial list. Some may shock and offend. You have been warned.

1. I think Miley Cyrus is homely. Always have. Does that make me a mean person?

2. As pervasive and “fun” as it’s become recently, especially on the high school and undergrad circuit, I freaking cannot stand beat-boxing. Even when it’s done like this:
Online Beatboxing Champion

(This, however, is still an all-time favorite.)

3. My biggest hangup is the fear of looking old. I know; I am shallow and vain. And shallow.

4. After Johnny Carson retired in 1992, I never again watched the Tonight Show. Not even once.

5. I am a singer by profession, but I never, ever sing in the shower. I rarely sing at home.

6. If this is the best singing talent Britain can find, I think they need to look harder.

7. I have never seen the movie ET in its entirety. (But I have watched Sweeney Todd eleven times.)

And that’s all I will sing about today. All right — your turn. Let’s have ’em. Confession time (please keep them to the non-felonious variety).

The power of Fink compels you.