The further adventures of gays in my life

It's been pretty quiet, actually. We managed to get N enrolled in school, and that was more difficult than it needed to be. Things went swimmingly on this end, but people at the school he left were being a$$h0les. He had to officially withdraw from the old school before he could officially enroll here. The bitches at the old school said he had to come in person, fill out the withdrawal form and sign it, and either turn in his books or pay $150. N turned in his books the day before he left. He gave them to the classroom teachers, so the office didn't know about it. Did they investigate? Not until I mentioned the possibility that the teachers might know something. It was the secretary in the guidance office who was being the biggest roadblock, and she was downright ugly to me. I smiled and turned on the sticky-sweet. That works for me. It's heavy with sarcasm, but on the surface it looks so nice. It's a southern thing, like when we say "bless your heart" it really means "fuck you." Depends on the situation, of course. Sometimes I say "bless your heart" and genuinely mean it. I meant "fuck you" when talking to Ms. Secretary.

I happened to be driving in the general direction of that small NC town when I spoke with the secretary. I was taking Light back to school Monday afternoon, and her college town is between here and there. There was some urgency that he be enrolled here by Tuesday because this school was administering the test that all students must pass in order to graduate high school, beginning Tuesday and going through Thursday. Ms. Secretary was stalling for no good reason. I suggested they fax the paperwork here so N could do his magic to it in our guidance office and fax it back. But he still owes $150 for the books. If I take care of the obligation for the books, could you fax the paperwork? No. But why not? (Maybe I shouldn't have used the word 'obligation.' That big word might have confused her.) Well, we just don't do it that way. OMFingG! No, I didn't say that out loud. At that point I told her I was on my way to the school and would pay what he owed for the books, suggesting also that she check with the teachers as to what books he might still be missing. Ms. Secretary realized that I was going to show up in the flesh and beat her bitchy ass, so she let me talk to the lead guidance counselor after putting me on hold for half a fucking hour! On my cell phone, outside my local area. I dunno, do they still charge roaming fees? Superman pays the bills, I don't keep track of shit like that.

So I finally talked to the guidance counselor. She was pretty nice, actually. I told her I was coming in to pay for his books, and asked about the fax option. Well, if his guidance counselor calls me, I can fax the papers, then stay on the phone with him while he witnesses N signing the forms, and he can fax it back. That will work. What the fuck ever. Thankfully our guidance counselor here was super nice and willing to work with the bitches there. And I did all the leg work, so it worked out fine.

Once the bitch (Ms. Secretary) realized I was on my way for real, she backtracked a bit on the book fees. She agreed to talk to the teachers about his books, too. N assures me that he turned in all the books he had, and some of the classes only had a classroom set of textbooks so he wasn't issued a book in the first place. Yeah. Exactly. I had the foresight to ask if these people would take a check. They would take a local in-state check, but... obviously I'm from South Carolina. Can they make it more difficult for me? S-u-u-u-re. Once I got into NC I stopped at an ATM and withdrew $200, just to make sure I had enough to cover whatever bribe they asked for.

I got there just before 4:00. Oh, I forgot to mention that we were in a race with time, because the school offices close at 4:00. I made it with 10 minutes to spare. Arrrgh! I don't like rushing like that. Face to face, Ms. Secretary said that she found two of the teachers who said N had turned in his books. The other teachers had left for the day by the time she looked for them. Um-hm. She said the book fees were "about $40." About? Do we have any kind of invoice? I didn't ask, because I knew what was really going on. I did, however, try to pin her down on a specific price for "the books" because "about $40" means diddly squat. All I got was "$40 will cover it." So I peeled off two twenties and asked for a receipt. Ya know what I got for a receipt? A note on a pink post-it. Come on! I know they have a receipt book. We mustn't leave a paper trail, though, right?

We got it done. It cost $40 (plus gas) and took me 100 miles and three hours out of my way, but I accomplished the mission. The guidance counselor here took care of the rest of the details with N on Tuesday, and he is now enrolled in school again. If he passed the tests he took last week, and passes all his courses this semester, he will graduate in December.

N has received a couple of letters from the mother. She whines and cajoles in print now, but doesn't call and hasn't shown up. No, neither has his sister. I doubt she'd come here, anyway, if she did run away from home. Mother is using the cat as a tool to guilt him into returning. The cat meows at his bedroom door, misses him so much. What I know is the cat is well cared for, and N isn't worried about him.

The household has settled into the new normal. N is very easy-going, easy to get along with. He's not the drama queen S was, and has a much more cheerful attitude about helping around the house. I like that part particularly. All my flatware is still present and accounted for!

And that's pretty much the way things are. Less than a week of drama, and smooth sailing ever since. It's good, very good.

Also,

I'll tell you what was the best most wonderful part of Mother's Day (the good parts that didn't involve Superman, anyway). I heard from an old friend of mine. He and I went to high school together! I have so very few friends these days anyway, and to reconnect with a friend from so long ago, my stars, it's wonderful. His name is John and he lives in Los Angeles now. 

We met each other my senior, his junior year of high school. He was (and still is, I think) a class A nerd. I had a crush on him, of course, and he didn't even know I existed. Of course.  We were in physics class together. Shall I tell you the story of how I got his attention? I'll go ahead and give you the spoiler: I didn't end up with him in the long run. I married Superman instead. So, do you want to know the story? 

Oh, and I gave him my blog address, so he may be showing up here soon. I hope so! John! Say "hi" in the comments, will ya'? (If you're not too shy)

This'n'that

My teeth are so clean!  I love how my teeth feel after I've been to the dentist for a cleaning.  Yes, I saw the dentist this morning.  It's a lovely office, the staff is so friendly.  My dentist wasn't in today, so one of the other dentists checked my teeth.  I have a cavity, dammit.  I don't floss often enough. I go back next Tuesday to get it filled.  But right now I am full of teh happy for my dentist's office.  

It's beginning to feel just a little bit like fall!  Finally.  It is nearly cool today.  We're having a dreary drizzly day, the second in a row.  This is the kind of weather that induces me to go to bed.  It's a good day for napping or making whoopie.  Then napping.  We'll see what we can do.  Superman comes home for lunch.  Hmmmm.

Good news!  S got a job!  Yes!  He had an interview yesterday with the HR lady from K-Mart, and was hired then and there.  It's conditional on passing a background check; standard proceedure.  I'm thrilled!  He's thrilled.  C is thrilled.  There's a lot of thrill going on around here. 

 

I broke the washing machine.  S and Superman say that it wasn't my fault, that it just happened. On Monday I put a load in and started it up.  Evidently I got the thing too full or something, which is hard to do with a front loader like we have.  It seems to have gotten off balance though, and neither S nor I heard it.   S went back there to check on the washer's availability and found the dryer, which sits on top of the washer, was nearly knocked off the washer and leaning against the wall!  He put the dryer back upright, then noticed that the washer door was ajar.  The latch was broken.

It won't run at all if the door isn't closed, and with a broken latch the door won't close.  Grrr.  I called my washer repair man Monday afternoon, and he came yesterday evening and replaced the latch.  That's all that was wrong with it, just the damned latch.  This is the 4th latch that washer has had!!  The first two we broke by slamming the door too hard.  But everyone has been much better about treating in gently, so I don't know what happened this time.  The repair guy (yesterday's He-ro of the day) said he has never had to replace a latch on any other Whirlpool Duet washers, just this one. Strange. Gremlins or something, maybe.   Anyway, it works again (YAY!!) and I should be washing clothes right now.  Instead I am blogging.  

Do you recall when Manny's windshield cracked?  Well Monday I finally got a new windshield!  The window in the driver's side door shattered last week when I slammed the door too hard.  (Are we noticing a theme here?)  So we had to call the insurance dude about that, and Superman had them fix the windshield at the same time.  I have a new windshield with no big crack and no scratched and pitted surface!! It has been a joy to drive since then.  Sort of. Manny is having some starting issues.  Manny often has issues, you know.  He has issues with his windshield wipers, too.  Sometimes they work, sometimes they don't.  So far they've always worked on high, so I'm not going to do anything about it just yet.  It'll do.

I got a text yesterday morning about 11:30 from Twitch.  It said to pick him up at 12:30, they were being dismissed early.  WTF?  No other info, nuthin.  I called the bus office to see what was happening.  The boss told me the power had gone out in the school building, not to worry, all was well.  When I get a cryptic text with news like that, I worry that there's some kind of hostage situation, or a dirty bomb, or a massive structural fire, or a major terrorist threat.  I'm a mother.  We do these things.  Thankfully I know where to go for info.  So Twitch got to come home three hours early yesterday.  He was very thankful because he was supposed to give a presentation in Economics class, and he wasn't ready for it.  Because of the power outage, he got a day's reprieve.  I'm not entirely sure he used it wisely, though.  He may very well not be ready for the presentation  today, either.  He is like that sometimes.  

It was pretty cool, actually, and I didn't have to worry about picking him up later in the afternoon.  We went out to Sonic for lunch, then came home and I took a nap.  It was loverly.  

 

I think that's about all I've got.  More updates as the situation warrants.  Film at 11.

My favorite teacher, for reasons unrelated to school

NB: Not recommended reading for those who don't want to know certain things about certain things that I certainly did when I was a certain younger age!

This gets a bit naughty. J His name was Tom F., and he was my biology teacher in 10^th grade. He was 34, short and stocky in a muscular sense, and had curly black hair with a sprinkling of gorgeous silver gray strands. And his smile melted my heart! I started crushing on him early in the year. I'd hang out in his classroom before school along with a few other kids. I did very well in his class; I'm smart like that. The subject interested me, but the teacher captivated me even more.

Sometime shortly after Christmas break he was attacked in the hall during his lunch duty. A group of punk-kid types jumped him and beat him up. He was out of school on whatever they call that leave for over a month, I can't remember exactly how long. I hadn't realized how much I depended on seeing him until he was gone. I missed him; pined for him. I got really brave and called his house! We talked briefly, I asked about his recovery and how long he'd be out. He told me what had happened, and I think he was trying to sue either the school or the boys who attacked him. I forget. Anyway, I called him a few times, not every day or anything, and I don't think I was terribly annoying. I tried not to be! And eventually he came back to school.

And I spent the mornings before school in his classroom. He had an office at the back of the classroom, with a door and everything. It was the science hall, and he had science-y type stuff in there. It was a fairly big office, really. Long and narrow. About half a dozen or so students would hang out in his classroom or office before school. Or after school. Or during lunch. OK, I was the only one who was there during lunch. J

He'd smile real big when he saw me. My heart beat faster, my head spun. The sexual tension was palpable. But nothing ever happened that entire school year.

Until the last day of school. Hehehe I'm getting giddy just remembering it! We had never even touched each other. But on that last day of school I was sitting on the counter in his office and he passed by me to do something at the other end of the office. When he came back by he stopped, turned to face me, and we fell into an embrace. I don't know who made the first move, but there we were, hugging each other tightly. I was sitting on the counter, he was standing in front of me. We held onto each other for a long, long time. I didn't want that hug to end, and didn't know what would happen when it did end. And he smelled so good! His hair was as soft as I'd imagined, and his shoulders were hard and strong.

The next day was a work day for him, but the students were finished. I went over to the school to see him. We were grinning at each other in that way couples do when they are giddy about each other. Details are fuzzy, but I'm pretty sure we hugged some more. I don't remember kisses; there may have been some, maybe not. He kept the classroom door closed and we spent a few hours just being together, talking some, grinning and hugging. One of the other science teachers was a friend of his. (That guy was really cute, too, in a slender blonde way. I'd have done him, given the opportunity! But I didn't.) At one point either that day or the next, the two of them played tennis out on the courts behind the school. I watched. I suspect the other teacher was aware on some level about what was going on, though I wasn't party to any discussion of that nature. He seemed real cool about me hanging around.

And then the school year was over for the teachers, too. Tom was attending the local college part time, working on his master's degree. I think he wanted to teach at the community college level instead of high school. Anyway, he called me a couple of times and I went with him to the library at the college. I also remember collecting wild plant samples with him in a field beside a major highway one afternoon. Very public, no touchie-touchie. Oh, and now I remember we went to a small state park not too far out of town to do more specimen collection. And that afternoon we had a great make-out session in the back of his van. You've been wondering if/when this was gonna get juicy, I know.

He had a full sized van, Ford, manual transmission, white. It was a cargo body style, basically empty in the back. There may have been one bench seat, I forget. That was before the invention of the minivan, and it was nice and roomy in the back. Being a cargo van it only had windows on the doors, and his windows were tinted very dark. Looking good, huh? That afternoon we did some very heavy petting. Got past third base, but were tagged out before making it all the way to home plate. He stopped it. I wanted to go on. That was the day I discovered that he had a few silver hairs in the pubes, too. I thought it was really sexy, but he was self-conscience about it. I was a bit shy then, and didn't express myself well. That was then, this is now, baby! Were it happening today I'd express myself strongly on how much I like those sexy silver pubes. But I'm telling a tale of long ago.

Sometime over the summer I moved from my mama's house to live with my dad in a city about 2.5 hours north. I obviously went to a different school for my junior year, and Tom transferred to another school in that district, one that was closer to his home. I think the attack he experienced the previous year was the official reason he transferred. So neither of us was at the old school.

But I'd go visit my mama every month or so. I remember being at mama's during the week some, or sometime when she was at work anyway. She of course knew nothing about my involvement with Tom. She had known I was fond of him as my biology teacher, and she probably figured out I had a crush on him. She's not as dumb as my naïve teenage ass thought she was. But she never knew about our meetings.

Sometime during that winter I was back in town visiting Mama. I called him and he came by to pick me up. We went to his place. This was the first time we had been alone together when there was no risk of interruption. It was time. He kept the thermostat low and it was cool in his apartment. He had a waterbed. OK, it was the 70s! We got nekkid, got onto that waterbed, and pretty soon it wasn't so chilly in there. And oh, it was good! This wasn't my first sexual encounter, but he was the most experienced partner I'd ever had. I learned a lot. And I remember he had lots of stamina. We played for a couple of hours, and he must have cum 3 or 4 times.

I remember how old he was because he was exactly twice my age. I thought that was pretty hot. He probably thought it was hot that I was half his age. I was impressed at the stamina of such an old guy! (My, how one's perception of age changes with advancing years!)

That was the best hook-up we ever had. We got together a couple of times after that, but there was no spark at all.

When I end the memory there, it is a good memory. But that isn't all there is. I'm leaving out my impressions and the insight of hindsight with advancing maturity. I am also leaving out at least one tiny detail. He was in a long term committed (or not) relationship with another woman. A woman of his age. They got married a couple of years later. I knew about her, though I seriously doubt she knows anything about me. For her sake I hope she doesn't. Of course back then I didn't care if he had a girlfriend or not. That was then, this is maturity. Tom was, I see now, lacking a lot of maturity.

I was naïve and immature in the way I communicated (or didn't) about what I wanted or expected of this relationship. Seriously, I don't think I gave it a lot of thought. Hell, I was 17! But I had some expectations. I knew he was involved with someone else, but I hoped he'd at least give me a little bit of consideration. I did want some shadow of a relationship with him, even if it didn't last long. But to him I was a fantasy. He had no respect for me as a person. He didn't get to know anything about who I really am. And at 17 I had a lot going on in my head. In so many ways I was, even at 17, more mature than he was at twice that age. He never knew. He never cared. His loss, the fool.