Wardrobe Malfunction
In a bit of a hurry today, I grabbed a new bra, tore off the tag, threw away both of the little pieces of plastic that held it on cause I hate to find them lying around, put it on followed by a tank and a blouse and ran out the door. Before I got to the freeway I was thinking how uncomfortable I was. In the front, where the wires meet, it was digging into my chest. I’m sure that must be how a heart attack feels.
Not a stranger to heart issues or the acid reflux stuff that often mimics them, I tried to calm down. And I got on the freeway trying to tug at the offensive wires a bit to little avail. I don’t think I was paying much attention to the traffic cause I kept going over and over in my head trying to figure out what bra I had put on. It was a twin pack special deal from (I’m embarrassed to admit) Walmart. But, hey, it’s a name brand and getting two on the same hanger was a real deal. My point is, I’d worn the other one before and never felt like I was being embraced by a python.
By the time I reached my off ramp, I was seriously considering going braless for the day. I am, after all, nothing if not a child of the 60s. Still, now that I’m in my sixties I can’t quite imagine what my students would think. And, unfortunately, though I’d layered a couple of tops, neither one of them provided that much coverage. So, I tried to convince myself this was indigestion. And to help it out, I drove thru McD and bought a hot tea.
When the tea didn’t seem to help, I took a detour thru the local shopping area and ran into the drug store where I bought some Tums. I briefly looked around for a bra, but the closest bet I could find were tank tops with a skimpy kind of thing sewed in. I decided that might be worse than braless. So, I chewed up a couple of Tums and told myself I was feeling better. Not.
Got to school, parked nearby, snagged a big pile of books that I needed to return to our little library, and sprinted most of the way to the office hoping to find a female with a safety pin. Having already rummaged thru my trunk, I figured there must be a better Girl Scout amongst us who really would be prepared. I found a sewing kit, contact lens cleaner, and q-tips, but no safety pin.
Off the elevator at the 4th floor and down the hall only to find the office dark and a little note saying it would be closed until 11:45a. As my class meets at 11am that wasn’t going to work. And, of course, I had left my wad of keys in the car so I couldn’t even get into my office although I was fairly certain I have didn’t have a safety pin there either.
Knowing I couldn’t carry the bunch of books all over campus, I decided to leave them in a stack in the nearby ladies room and hope for the best. What can I say? I was so uncomfortable by now that I just didn’t care much.
Back down to the second floor, which, at Cal State, is ground level at one end of Academic Hall where I spied a friend teaching in one of the computer labs. Desperate, I opened the door, interrupted her lecture and motioned for her to come out. I must have looked awful because she didn’t hesitate. Sadly, she didn’t have a safety pin either. She offered to ask her female students, but as half the class were men, I opted out.
Not too far away, in the big courtyard, there’s a coffee cart and the woman who owns it and I have become friends over the years often running into each other at the nearby Nordstrom’s Rack while getting in some retail therapy. I knew she’d understand and her cart is not far from the little store on campus which I was 90% sure didn’t carry sundries, but… Eureka! She had 3. I grabbed them all and went in search of the nearest restroom
Cheap bras, for some reason, are made of thick material, so once I untangled myself from the lycra python I could hardly get the safety pen thru the fiber. My plan was to use two and sort of make an extension which ought to relieve the pressure in the front. Finally got both thru the fabric and hooked to the other side. My fix didn’t provide much of an extension, but an inch would have to do.
Of course, now that I’ve got this mickey mouse extension in place, I have to figure out a way to get the bra back on. So, I go over the head like a sweater. Wrong. That wasn’t going to work. In the process, one of the safety pens quickly came open and stabbed me.
Gently unhooking both of them, though I wanted to scream, I put the bra on conventionally except instead of closing it with hooks, I fastened it with safety pens. And adjusted the girls and – yes – it was possible to breathe. I could feel the color returning to my face. Whoops, one came undone again. Still calm, while wanting to scream bloody murder, I simply dug it out of my flesh and decided to go with one – the one that seemed to be the stronger of the two.
Finally on my way to class, I returned the smaller of the three pins along with the monster that kept attacking me and wouldn’t stay shut. After grabbing a folder I needed from my car I ran into a friend and shared a laugh. She knew I was on my way to teach my English thru Music class and suggested it probably wasn’t the day to demonstrate the bunny hop. After telling me to “hang in there,” she left and I walked carefully on to class looking much more confident than I felt.
Fortunately, the students were presenting today. So all I had to do was call names and make some notes as one group after another shared a bit about the musical that had been assigned to them: Les Miserables, The Sound of Music, Grease, Cats. If I recall, it was about halfway through Memories that I felt a sudden loosening and realized that the one and only remaining safety pen had given up the ghost.
Thanking Allah for my folder, as I have many Saudis in my music class, I clasped it to my chest while I reminded the students of their assignment for next week and shooed them out of the door. Of course, two or three wanted to gab and must have wondered why I wasn’t my usual talkative self.
Finally, when the last student had picked up the last book bag and sauntered out the door, I locked it, checked the shades which had been drawn so we could show videos, and tore my clothes off. Yanking the lycra python off, I discovered that the pin had not only come open, it had broken in two. And I stared at the pieces, my plan for a safety pin extension now completely thwarted.
So, I changed tactics. It’s a cheap bra, I figured I ought to be able to stretch it out a bit, so I tugged and pulled and twisted before bravely putting it back on. As I did, I loosened the straps as far as they would go. My tugging and this loosening seemed to help and I was able to get back out to my car and even get thru my next class, but not before I noticed that I’d drunk my McD tea without putting the teabag in the cup. Not that I was distraught or anything!!!
Sunday, April 20, 2014
Saturday, April 12, 2014
Awesome
As many of you know, I make my living teaching English as a Second Language. Teaching came about as a mid-life career change and it has been a joy. And my students never fail to amaze me. And when they’re not amazing, they are, at least, amusing.
At the moment, at CSUSM, we’re all getting ready for the International Fair, a day in which many groups showcase their talents and share their lives. Last year, my students decided to do body art and it was hugely popular. The line at our booth never let up as students waited to have some fancy Oriental calligraphy painted on them.
Being fairly wise, my students who were taking part, a mixed group of Japanese, Chinese, and Korean had decided it would make sense to make templates and then one could just fill them in, rather than having to create a new design for each person. So, they carefully designed and then cut out various words that they thought might appeal to the other students: happiness, luck, joy. Of course, they also decided we needed to be enthusiastic about our school, so they created a CSUSM template and a cougar which turned out to be one of the most popular patterns. They also decided they needed some modern themes.
Fast forward to this year. I dug out the templates I’d saved and encouraged this year’s group to come up with some others and, perhaps, reinforce the ones we had. After just a few minutes there was a low giggle going about the class. And when I asked to be let in on the funny, they showed me a template labeled “awesome.” Modern indeed. And I said, so what’s funny?
After some time, they stumbled around and tried to explain to me that “awesome” is a slang word and doesn’t exist in Chinese, so whoever originally drew this one had put two characters together which kind of translated into the idea of awesome, but read rather strangely. Sensing more was afoot, but somewhat satisfied I just let the class continue their efforts.
When the class met the next time, the same twittering went around the room when this card was shown to a fellow who’d been absent. Finally a couple of the Chinese women told me we couldn’t use it. The class chimed in – some pretty much in agreement and some who said it was fine. Still, I knew something more was going on and I pushed for an explanation. None was forthcoming. The young man who’d been absent, though, had something to say. He’d been in my class the year before and, apparently, had drawn this design. And he was prompt to defend it. As busy as we were, I let it go again.
Until the class met the third time to continue this project – the International Fair now less than a week away. And, somehow, the awesome template had made its way back into the stack of patterns we are going to use this year. When one of the young Japanese fellows noticed it, he pulled it out and gave it to me and said, somewhat solemnly, we can’t use this one. I’ve had him in one of my more academic courses and knew that he respected me, so I was really perplexed and I asked why – again.
He sort of looked down at his feet while that same giggling started again going around the room and bouncing off one another as some fought to hold back their laughter and others just couldn’t. Before much longer, one of the younger Chinese boys (technically a man, but barely) came close to me and mumbled under his breath, “It says “f*king awesome.” Before I could help myself I repeated what he had said which caused the entire class to just about roll on the floor. Afterwards I could truly report I was ROTFLMAO.
At the moment, at CSUSM, we’re all getting ready for the International Fair, a day in which many groups showcase their talents and share their lives. Last year, my students decided to do body art and it was hugely popular. The line at our booth never let up as students waited to have some fancy Oriental calligraphy painted on them.
Being fairly wise, my students who were taking part, a mixed group of Japanese, Chinese, and Korean had decided it would make sense to make templates and then one could just fill them in, rather than having to create a new design for each person. So, they carefully designed and then cut out various words that they thought might appeal to the other students: happiness, luck, joy. Of course, they also decided we needed to be enthusiastic about our school, so they created a CSUSM template and a cougar which turned out to be one of the most popular patterns. They also decided they needed some modern themes.
Fast forward to this year. I dug out the templates I’d saved and encouraged this year’s group to come up with some others and, perhaps, reinforce the ones we had. After just a few minutes there was a low giggle going about the class. And when I asked to be let in on the funny, they showed me a template labeled “awesome.” Modern indeed. And I said, so what’s funny?
After some time, they stumbled around and tried to explain to me that “awesome” is a slang word and doesn’t exist in Chinese, so whoever originally drew this one had put two characters together which kind of translated into the idea of awesome, but read rather strangely. Sensing more was afoot, but somewhat satisfied I just let the class continue their efforts.
When the class met the next time, the same twittering went around the room when this card was shown to a fellow who’d been absent. Finally a couple of the Chinese women told me we couldn’t use it. The class chimed in – some pretty much in agreement and some who said it was fine. Still, I knew something more was going on and I pushed for an explanation. None was forthcoming. The young man who’d been absent, though, had something to say. He’d been in my class the year before and, apparently, had drawn this design. And he was prompt to defend it. As busy as we were, I let it go again.
Until the class met the third time to continue this project – the International Fair now less than a week away. And, somehow, the awesome template had made its way back into the stack of patterns we are going to use this year. When one of the young Japanese fellows noticed it, he pulled it out and gave it to me and said, somewhat solemnly, we can’t use this one. I’ve had him in one of my more academic courses and knew that he respected me, so I was really perplexed and I asked why – again.
He sort of looked down at his feet while that same giggling started again going around the room and bouncing off one another as some fought to hold back their laughter and others just couldn’t. Before much longer, one of the younger Chinese boys (technically a man, but barely) came close to me and mumbled under his breath, “It says “f*king awesome.” Before I could help myself I repeated what he had said which caused the entire class to just about roll on the floor. Afterwards I could truly report I was ROTFLMAO.
Friday, April 4, 2014
BFF
Yesterday I went to brunch with my dear friend, Fran, and she brought some pictures of her first born's recent wedding which brought the conversation around to the "good ole days" when we first met and married and had our kids.
We met at work so it wasn't odd that our conversation went back and forth to the world of work and, at some point, I mentioned how jealous I used to be of my sister-in-law, Mary Lou, who watched my first born when I had to go back to work. I've often thought if I'd have stopped to figure out all of the costs, I probably wasn't very far ahead by working, but it was the choice I made. And it was one I regretted every single day when I had to drop him off.
And as I told Fran yesterday, I don't know how Mary Lou managed. She had a little boy just a few months older than mine. It was like having twins. I used to marvel at her. They were always fed and clean and dry, but more than that, they all seemed happy. Her oldest wss only about four and wasn't yet in school, so she really had her hands full. I can't even imagine.
She and I became close during our pregnancies - her second, my first. We were married to brothers and their family lived nearby and were quite close. Most of my family was around, too, but they were much younger and not into the "married with kids" thing yet, so it was logical, I guess, that this shared journey would bring us together. And Mary Lou didn't have any siblings, so that probably contributed. In fairly short order, then, we became BFF and though we'd drifted apart the last few years after I remarried and her husband retired, we managed to get in a "quick" phone call every now and then which inevitable turned into an hour long visit.
It would be safe to say that Mary Lou knows me as well as anyone on the planet and there is nothing that I couldn't and haven't shared with her. And vice versa.
So, this evening, I can hardly breathe. I don't know how to function. I don't know what to do. I want to talk with my best friend and tell her how awful I feel, but I can't.
When her husband called me this afternoon, I knew it was bad news, but I never dreamed would never have guessed what he'd called to say. Sadly, a mutual friend has been quite ill, and I thought he might be calling about him. No. Perhaps even more sad is the fact that one of his younger sister's is battling cancer. I thought he might be calling about her. No.
No. No.
No.
He was calling to tell me that his wife and my best friend had died this afternoon. OMG!
I want to call Mary Lou and tell her awful this feels, but I can't. She's gone. I want to scream. I want to throw myself on the floor and have a tantrum like a two year old. I want to hear her voice.
Please call someone you love today and tell them how much they mean to you.
We met at work so it wasn't odd that our conversation went back and forth to the world of work and, at some point, I mentioned how jealous I used to be of my sister-in-law, Mary Lou, who watched my first born when I had to go back to work. I've often thought if I'd have stopped to figure out all of the costs, I probably wasn't very far ahead by working, but it was the choice I made. And it was one I regretted every single day when I had to drop him off.
And as I told Fran yesterday, I don't know how Mary Lou managed. She had a little boy just a few months older than mine. It was like having twins. I used to marvel at her. They were always fed and clean and dry, but more than that, they all seemed happy. Her oldest wss only about four and wasn't yet in school, so she really had her hands full. I can't even imagine.
She and I became close during our pregnancies - her second, my first. We were married to brothers and their family lived nearby and were quite close. Most of my family was around, too, but they were much younger and not into the "married with kids" thing yet, so it was logical, I guess, that this shared journey would bring us together. And Mary Lou didn't have any siblings, so that probably contributed. In fairly short order, then, we became BFF and though we'd drifted apart the last few years after I remarried and her husband retired, we managed to get in a "quick" phone call every now and then which inevitable turned into an hour long visit.
It would be safe to say that Mary Lou knows me as well as anyone on the planet and there is nothing that I couldn't and haven't shared with her. And vice versa.
So, this evening, I can hardly breathe. I don't know how to function. I don't know what to do. I want to talk with my best friend and tell her how awful I feel, but I can't.
When her husband called me this afternoon, I knew it was bad news, but I never dreamed would never have guessed what he'd called to say. Sadly, a mutual friend has been quite ill, and I thought he might be calling about him. No. Perhaps even more sad is the fact that one of his younger sister's is battling cancer. I thought he might be calling about her. No.
No. No.
No.
He was calling to tell me that his wife and my best friend had died this afternoon. OMG!
I want to call Mary Lou and tell her awful this feels, but I can't. She's gone. I want to scream. I want to throw myself on the floor and have a tantrum like a two year old. I want to hear her voice.
Please call someone you love today and tell them how much they mean to you.
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