Speaking of noooooooope…

So, remember a couple of weeks ago when I said I was applying for a teaching job?  That wasn’t quite true, at least in the strictest sense of the word “teaching.”  It was a job, in a school, that would involve occasionally interfacing with kids but which seemed, from the description, to actually mostly involve backing up teachers and being a resource for them rather than a job where I was in front of a classroom all day.  I messed around with my work schedule a bit this week after getting a couple of emails from the HR director, who indicated there would be an informational meeting at the school that it might be useful to come to.

(I’m leaving out a lot of details, obviously; this program involves a pretty substantial infusion of money and is a new thing for the school to the point where renovations are happening in the building right now for it, so the idea that they’d invite people who are applying for the job to this informational meeting makes more sense than you might think– the building staff was also invited.)

So.  Yeah.  I went to the meeting.  There were maybe a dozen staff members present and at least three people who were there because they were applying for the same job I was– me and two others, in other words.

The lack of buy-in from the staff was a physical force in the room, and the sinking feeling that started moments after the presentation began never really got any better.

I happened, after the meeting was over, to walk out of the building with one of the other two applicants.

“Was that job what you thought it was when you applied?” I asked.

“Not even a little bit,” she said.  And she didn’t say “You can have it,” but it was pretty damn clear she didn’t want it any longer.

They are actually looking for two people to fill this job, who will both be in the new facility at all times.  Along with sixty kids.

Sixty.  At once.

Three blocks a day, of– lemme say it again– sixty kids.  Seventh and eighth graders.  In a program that, in my professional opinion, is a massive waste of time and resources if they’re going to treat it as a class that you get a grade for.   In a nicely renovated, brand-new space featuring two load-bearing walls in the middle of the Goddamn room that cannot be moved and guarantee that there will be no place where a single teacher can stand and see all of his or her students.

So.

oh-shi

Hold my beer and watch this

002012107-1So I think I found the dumbest possible way to end up in the ER, guys, for serious.

Friday afternoon I found myself craving both corn chips and queso and potato chips and French onion dip at the same time.  I texted my wife and requested that she obtain at least one of those two pairs of things on her way home from work.  My wife, being wonderful, came home with both sets.

“OM NOM NOM,” I replied, and I had me some corn chips and some queso.  And a piece of chip promptly got stuck in one of my wisdom smilebones.  While this was an unwelcome development, it wasn’t the end of the world or anything.  I dislodged it after probably less than a minute, had a few more chips, then decided it was a touch more hurty than such things usually are and discontinued my chip-eating.

The next morning my goddamn jaw still hurt.  Still hurt a lot, actually; quite a bit more than it had the night before, and with a touch of dizziness and lightheadedness (are those the same thing?) to boot.  I went to work anyway, of course, because driving when you’re dizzy is what you do when you’ve already made one stupid mistake in the last couple of days.  I did not last at work, however, as the pain intensified and I decided after about an hour that spending all day 1) on my feet and 2) talking to people was not what I wanted to do.  So I left work early and came home.

I spent the whole day fighting with myself about whether I was going to urgent care or not– it was Saturday, after all, so a regular doctor was out of the question– and finally decided I needed to go around dinnertime.  By that point I was assuming I had some sort of quick-onset jaw infection.  It wasn’t the first time that this had happened to me and the pain felt pretty familiar from the last time .  So, fine: off to urgent care, where they’ll give me a scrip for an antibiotic and probably some sort of painkiller and then I’m home free.

Hah.  First of all, there was only one urgent care center anywhere near me that was still open.  Second, they refused to treat me, since jaw pain is “dental-adjacent” and as the lady behind the desk very apologetically explained, they were administratively banned from dealing with anything “dental-adjacent.”

Here is a list of dental urgent care centers.  They are all closed on weekends.  Which violates my understanding of the meaning of the phrase “urgent care,” but whatfuckinever I don’t have the energy for this fight right now.

I contemplate the idea of being in this much pain until Monday and have to fight off tears in public, because shit’s getting worse.

“Do I have any options here?”

“The ER.”

No.  I’m not going to the goddamn ER for jaw pain that I created by eating corn chips.  The ER is where you go when you get shot, or when you’re so sick that you literally don’t know what else to do.  I need a simple goddamn antibiotic and a pain pill.  There’s seriously nobody who can do that for me?

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I went home.   I told my wife what had happened.  And she pointed out that my options were basically 1) Go to the ER now, or 2) go to the ER at 3:00 in the fucking morning once I entirely lost the ability to handle my shit.

Which is the story of how I spent my Saturday night– part of it, at least– in the emergency room, apologizing to nurses for wasting their (very efficient, it must be said) time.  And I left (quickly!) with an antibiotic and instructions to see a dentist ASAP for a tooth that the doctor thought miiiiight be cracked and a scrip for a much stronger painkiller than I’d expected, and instructions that if at all possible I wasn’t to drive while on it and that it therefore would be best to not go to work the next day either.

Which is why it took until 8:30 tonight for me to write about any of this, because I’ve kinda been in a bit of a haze.

Because of corn chips.

The end.

IDIOTIC POSTSCRIPT:  Despite all this I am literally at this very second considering finishing off the queso.  I might have to use a spoon, though.

#REVIEW: BLACK PANTHER

iOr, as I like to call it, Shuri: The Movie, Part One.  

Guys, I saw this movie almost a full-ass week ago, last Friday, and I’m just now getting around to writing my review of it because I’ve been waiting for The Giddy to go away so that I had at least a little bit of a chance of writing something that didn’t sound like I was pausing every couple of sentences to wipe drool from my mouth.

(One possible solution to that problem: long-ass sentences.)

I can’t do it.  Giddy is all I’ve got.  I loved this movie.  Loved loved loved loved loved loved loved this movie.  Every single fucking second, every character, every scene, every setpiece.  Every single character in this movie is amazing, every single actor and actress is gorgeous (I have identified myself as a cishet man for my entire life and fuck it I am making an exception for the Black Panther cast) and goddammit if Shuri doesn’t show up for at least a cameo in every Marvel movie from now on, if for no other reason than to make fun of Tony Stark, I will be gravely disappointed.

I said this on Twitter, I’ve said it in person to half a dozen people, I’m saying it again here: I already knew that Lupita Nyong’o and Danai Gurira and oh holy god Angela fucking Bassett were goddesses and superior actresses and that I was going to love the hell out of them being in this movie.  I was wholly and entirely unprepared for Letitia Wright, who is absolutely amazing and steals every single scene she is in.  I have a Shuri Funko Pop sitting on my desk right now that I bought at the comic store yesterday and I am eagerly anticipating something with a better mold coming out soon.  I want a statue.

(Okay, one tiny flaw: I didn’t realize how much I want a Riri Williams movie until I saw this one, if only because I want Riri and Shuri to have whatever the teen girl equivalent of a Science Bros movie is.  Picture the stinger at the end of Avengers 4: We look over the shoulder of a young black woman as she reads an article on her computer about Tony Stark’s heroic death in battle with Thanos.  The camera stays behind her as she stands up and opens her closet to reveal a suit of gray armor inside it.  Come on.  Make this happen.)

I’ve had a few people ask me if this is my new favorite Marvel movie, and I’m not sure.  It’s top-tier, absolutely, up there with the first Iron Man and Avengers and Civil War.  And even of those three I’d put it above Civil War just because only Iron Man and Avengers got me to this level of long-term giddiness after I saw them.  So, how about this: as of now, after one viewing, it’s my favorite Marvel movie that I didn’t literally spend decades waiting to see before it came out.  I think that’s probably fair.

Go see it, right now.  And then go see it again.  It’s wonderful and you’ll love it.

Art, again

…okay. I can draw recognizably female human faces. Good, that was worrisome. 🙂

I am sleepy so here is art

IMG_6890So as goofy and simplistic as they are these actually kind of represent some progress; I’m starting to draw original pictures rather than copying something that’s in front of me, and at the suggestion of drawabox.com I’ve switched to working with pens rather than pencils because they force me to stop and think before making a mark on a piece of paper.  Sooner or later I will start doing little cartoon dudes with, like, bodies and shit, but I’m not quite there yet.  Just faces for right now.

Weird phenomenon: I drew these five faces, and then realized they were all dudes.  I mean, I suppose the monkey-thing doesn’t really have to be a dude, but in my head they were all dudes.  And then I thought I ought to draw at least one girl to even things out and then panicked because apparently I have no idea how to draw women.

So, uh, I’ll work on that unexpected problem tomorrow, I guess?  Sure.