Wigs and Things

God, I really hope my new co-workers like puns as much as I do... In all seriousness, though, one of the great things about being a teacher is that you can be around other nerds and be nerdy together. Today I was invited to attend the post-planning breakfast at my new middle school where I met my new co-workers. They were so warm and welcoming! The whole school is being renovated over the summer with new LED lighting, ceilings, paint, and touch screen t.v.'s. And I could not love my new classroom anymore! It is enormous, has an exterior glass door, huge window with a view of trees, and is right across from the bathroom. Win! My view: Trees. TREES!   Additionally, I will only be teaching 4 classes (my last teaching role was 5), one ''prep'' (subject), World Studies (my last role had 3 preps), and my first two periods are planning periods (I only had one planning period last time). My commute is 20 minutes, and on Wednesdays they have a full c

Friends, can you believe that Wigs and Things is one year old ? Thank you everyone for your support, for reading my jumble of words, for encouraging me and making me feel like I am not alone on this bizarre journey. You are invaluable to me, and I will be forever grateful for the love and kindness you have shown me. For anyone who has ever responded to my blog by saying, '' You put into words exactly what I was feeling, but could never figure out how to s ay.'' '' If you are ever in ______, let me know because I want us to meet!'' '' This is how I have felt so many times, too.'' ...and lots of other kind things, thank you. For your companionship. For making me feel like I am not crazy. For helping me through the most challenging, gut-wrenching, isolating time of my life. On the hard days, it means more than I could ever say. As a thank you, I have made a lovely lemon and hibiscus sugar scrub. It's made with

My oncologist only sends his ''No Evidence of Disease'' patients for scans if they become symptomatic. To make you feel like even more of a leper, they keep this sign over the toilet at the Cancer Center. I can't help but wonder, ''Why the hell is it crumpled?''. I bet someone got pissed off one day and did that.   Today he ordered a bone scan for me. Fuck . Fuck, fuck, fuck. I went in today for my routine labs, and mentioned how my hands are itchy, swollen, and red from the Xeloda. I also mentioned that I no longer have fingerprints (a temporary side effect from my skin thinning). My hands are hot, red, itchy, swollen,  totally devoid of fingerprints, and gripping anything is torturous. Good times. He was all, ''We can lower your dose again.'' Then I mentioned the dull ache in my mid-spine, as he was reading my lab results. His tune changed to, ''Let's give you another week off from Xeloda, order a bon

Edited: In Loving Memory of Wendy Buers of Vancouver, Canada, who passed away a few hours after this was published on May 21, 2018. I can't wait to bike that seawall for you in September.  Have you ever heard of the invisible red thread? There is an old Chinese proverb that says, ''An invisible red thread connects those who are destined to meet, regardless of time, place, or circumstance. The thread may stretch or tangle, but it will never break.' ' This has been on my mind a lot lately, as I think about all of the people who have come and gone from my life. I think it actually remarkable, that my threads have connected me to so many people who have shaped me in all different kinds of ways. This September, I was supposed to stay with a friend, Wendy, from the cancer world at her home in Vancouver. ' 'My kids are moving out soon, and I will have plenty of room. Come and stay here, as long as you don't mind pets. I even have an extra bike; when

''There's nothing wrong with me getting a little drunk and looking on Match.Com just to see who's out there. I wasn't going to actually pursue anyone anyway, I am just curious for the the future . Besides, there aren't many attractive women around here, it is slim-pickings. You'll probably end up with someone great, like Professor Twatface. He will have some amazing vocabulary, and wear a cardigan with patches on the elbows, and Birkenstocks, and carry a satchel. I bet he'll even drive a Prius. You can wear your Birkenstocks together and sit around analyzing books .'' I have to hand it to my husband, he is brutally honest. While he calls my fictious future boyfriend Professor Twatface, I call his fictious future girlfriend Sally. Ironically enough, I, too, carry a sachel and have always wanted a cardigan with patches on the elbow, but I didn't remind him of that. ''I want it in our paperwork that ''Mommy's friend&#

I am not sure how I am feeling today... Yesterday I took this picture of my 5 year old daughter, who hates getting up for school. She says lots of cute things, like... '' I am full of hands' ' when her hands are full. And also, '' Can you inside out this for me? '' when her clothes are inside out. When she wants more sleep she says, '' Just a little more whiles .'' My daughter and I a year ago today  May 16, 2017 Unbeknownst to me, while she was asking for a little more whiles, a few miles down the road from our house, a teacher at her school was driving to work at the exact same time that a sheriff's deputy fell asleep behind the wheel. She died almost instantly in a head-on collision. Her husband got there before she died, but she was so torn apart they wouldn't let him see her. I feel like there has been a lot of death happening lately, and that coupled with what would have been my brother's 31st bir

Last night was one of those nights where I had a lot of dreams. Totally random ones, too. There were wedding bells, and I had missed the ceremony of the Royal Wedding. Not that in real life I actually care about the Royal Wedding, but still. I discovered that my rainbow Girasol baby wrap had a huge hole in it. And then, someone unexpected appeared. It was Mr. Wonderful! Now, I have no idea who Mr. Wonderful is, what he looks like, or what he sounds like. But I know what he feels like, and he lives up to his name. Earlier in the day, before I went to sleep, I was having terrible abdominal pain from my chemo, Xeloda. I am currently on my 3rd cycle, and take 6 pills a day. I was so poorly, I could barely eat my dinner. Clearly this manifested itself later in my dream. So there is Mr. Wonderful, and he is gently kissing me, all along my scar that runs below my belly button, and gently caressing my sore abdomen. I was surprised, because I am very self-conscious about t

'' I feel like sometimes the Universe gently sways us in the right direction of where we are meant to go ", I said one day to my lovely Canadian friend. '' Yeah, and other times the Universe clubs you over the head '', was her reply. Over the weekend, I was clubbed over the head. As I was driving us to my daughter's Girl Scouts skating party, a mortgage broker called about my application. Since I was driving, my husband spoke to him on my behalf, and was told that based on my credit and work history, I would be eligible for a mortgage with a 3.5% downpayment exactly six months after I start my job, bringing us to December 25th. Shopping for a new house for Christmas sounds exciting, as does starting off 2019 with a totally new chapter of my life. I could see it now; spending the winter moving into our new home, painting, unpacking, friends milling around helping, fire going, music playing. And, once we are all settled in, adopting a rescue puppy

''You know, if you are going to be this independent woman, you are going to have to stop filling the garbage bag up so much that you can't even bring it out by yourself. You'll have to start using your cute lady brain when I am not around.'' My cute what ? My husband knows how to, what they would call in his native England, ''wind me up''. Because that's exactly the sort of thing you do not say to your feminist wife, even if she is your soon-to-be ex-wife. Which brings me to my current thought of, what if all future suitors out there are creeps and there really is no Mr. Wonderful? I mean, let's face the facts, I am no spring chicken. I have three children. I have a high risk of a cancer recurrence. I have a body that is scarred beyond belief. And how do I even mention in casual conversation that I do not have nipples ? That might freak someone out. Unless he falls for my witty personality, endless sarcasm, and super-weird