Four Days of Failure

"The sea was angry that day my friends, like an old man trying to send back soup in a deli."

"We're like rats in some experiment."

- George Costanza "Lord of the Idiots"

It's been awhile I know, but things haven't been as glamorous as the previous few weeks.  And by glamorous, I mean the last few days seem like they should have been written by Jerry Seinfeld and Larry David for a lost Seinfeld episode.

Let me explain.

Friday

Things did not seem this bleak Friday evening.  In fact, between the sushi, various fried meats, and conversation with colleagues at the Director's Social, I thought the weekend was going to continue to be like my classes- puppies and rainbows.  Haha. [Got ya.]

I now try to photobomb at least one picture I'm in when people take multiples.

Friday night was a good time. Several tables drew and "L" on the top of the junior kinder building where the director lives.  At the top of the "L" was a sound system, singer, and DJ.  At the bottom a great spread, and at the toe of the "L" was the booze.  A south breeze graciously blanketed the roof and people bounced from table to table chatting it up.  While most of the ladies ended up gravitating to the dancer floor to join the likes of David and Morris cutting rugs with salsa and merengue dance moves, I hid.  (I shared with my friends that a tell-tale sign that someone can't dance is hand placement.  If your hand vertically breaches the invisible parallel line from the top of your shoulder forward, I'm sorry you can't dance)

School is cool.

I wasn't afraid of dancing, I just knew that my legal minimum dose to dance was far less than what I had currently consumed (ah beer, yep ah, not a).  Plus, I had started a great conversation with our science teacher Leo, and picking his brain was more important than shaking my tail feathers.  Leo has covered the spectrum of roles in education from teacher to sup.  I wanted to hear his journey and he shared with me some great tales of students and the crazy things that happen. After that I spoke at length with Jon (calculus and physics, yep) about a ton of topics with a lot of it revolving around Big Lebowski quotes and other movies.  Ryan (librarian) joined in as a means to deter the dancing fever that was rising amongst the sea of people.

A good time was had by all, and we left the director's place at just after midnight.  So far so good.

Ryan was making us laugh so hard I was crying.  He however was showing off the guns, and Frank was doing his best Paul Stanley.  

Saturday

Saturday was enjoyable.  Slept in until about 10, hit the gym for a heavy leg workout, had a good lunch, and killed time until going to Lorena's house for a cookout.  Lorena's brother Enrique, outside of being skilled dancer, is an amazing cook.  Their family showed us great hospitality, and cooked an American meal of ribs, corn, avocado salad, and some drinks.  I closed my eyes, smelled the charcoal and thought I was back in the heartland for a bit.  We hung out, listened to tunes, I tried to practice some Spanish, and burn minutes until we left for Aye Carumba.  

A plane, a plane!

Some of us, but only Frank is aware of the Chupacabra approaching. 

Smite you Diplomatico.

Aye Carumba is a club where people dance traditional styles (and modern) to a variety of music.  The kids there  sure love Reggaeton.   Tonight was my night to be indoctrinated into the fraternal order of "Gringos who attempt to dance Venezuelan, but fail."  It's a right of passage, I knew I had to, and it was one of our colleagues birthday.

When in Rome right?

Several of us pitched in for two bottles of Venezuelan rum.  Not what you think.  We are not big timers in the club with Crystal, hub, Dom, or whatever the current pop music liqour of choice is.  We also were not making it rain, rather a bottle service is how it works there.  Buy a bottle, buy Coke, get a pale of ice, and then enjoy yourself.

This rum "Diplomatico" was really smooth and hardly diplomatic.  I had no electoral rights on what would happen as a result of it.  Little did I know.

Enrique and David, dancers for hire (not like that-clean it up).

We got to the club (I hate saying club, I'd rather say dive, pub, or bar...) early and got a long row of tables to fit our "cre.." group of people, nearly twenty of us.

Everyone was in good spirits for Diana's birthday.  We talked until the banshee screech made yelling the only way.  Joked around, took pictures (Frank and I photo bomb our own pictures), and danced.  I gave it a good shot and had the help of several friends to show me how to step and where to move.  I'd like to think I do a fair job, but I think it was more of the fact I was laughing at myself and drinking.

I am not Venezuelan, they are.  I can't dance, they can. 

Our huge amoeba started by the tables and later moved closer to the stage that would late be manned by five girls going Miley Cyrus to the voting applause of the place.  I still don't understand this.  Objectification that under normal circumstances would warrant if inquired about, is more or less a "who can out do the others" competition.  No money, prizes or anything.  To each their own I suppose (I prefer cheap beer and a juke, but I digress).

Morris and Frank discussing the paradox of cereal.  "Which was the catalyst of the breakfast staple?  Milk or dry cereal?"

Morris and I left at Iowa closing time, 2-ish, while many of the remaining DWTS candidates stayed to declare war on the dance floor.  I rushed my 31 year old carcass to bed and woke up 7 hours later with a nice plus in my left temple.

Frank or otherwise know as "El Rey".

Sunday

I shook it off, popped some Ibuprofen, and watched movie until it was going to look for a coffee maker and sunglasses with a friend.

On the way to the mall I asked to stop at a juice bar and get some fresh juice.  I figured, "Hey, some vitamins and minerals will help me feel sound as pound." HAHA.

After just over half of the juice, a mystical unicorn of death materialized just above me, and plunged into my intestines.  In a scramble, we located a bathroom and I sought sanctuary in the most decrepit dungeon of deposits every amassed.  Knowing that the unicorn had connected with a fatal strike, I was returned to my castle to lay in shame.

Now we are just getting started at the week of George (Kellen).

Monday

Woke up late- slept right through three alarms.  Scrambled, showered, and shot out the door to meet Morris and hit the road.  

Arrived at school- forgot keys.  

First hour class off to plan and I can't find the right files to use, missing a few books I need, and my website won't work.  

Second hour, my juniors do ok, but I can see the divorce court in our future.

Third hour, my seniors are have already filed, and are just waiting for attorneys (some of them).  WE start the class talking about some local issues, and end up talking about how ridiculous fighting is.  I share a few CHS stories and then we have a visitor.  I settle them and we start to take our quiz.  I apparently put up the entirely wrong one, not noticing until about seven minutes into it.  The kids erupt with "I knew it," "I thought I was going to bomb it," and "I'm still going" comments.  I bow my head in defeat, change the quiz, and try to redeem myself.  Mind you the visitor was my principal on an unannounced observation.  Cool.

Lunch, my computer shuts off repeatedly and won't connect to the Internet, and my spoon will not cut through my grilled meat.  I was supposed to exchange money last week, but my loss of my wallet had prevented that.  I tried today and have no idea if it worked.  If not someone woke up this morning with a bank error in their favor.

Fourth hour, and two girls who must have "Mean Girls" memorized are totally distracting and slowing down the lesson.  

The ensuing meeting brings up data, numbers, standardized testing, and goals.  I've heard that song before.  I miss intramural and then coach one of my worst practices in nine years.

I lay the king down and go home.  Do not pass go, do not collect $200 (sorry, second Monopoly reference).  Try again tomorrow.

Tuesday

I start off the day by dropping and running into everything.  Ever have a day like that? I do occasionally, but this was perfectly timed.  

First hour sophomore English (and third hour) is still Candyland.  Advisory (homeroom), which follows the "break" consists of a near meltdown.  Every student (sans two) were late and by rule requires them to stay an hour after school for recovery.  

That went over well.

Then we had three different speakers come in to talk to us about fundraising (prom...ugh) and it's details.  You think they wanted to listen?  Nope.  We had to nominate a STUCO (student council for those not used to the acronyms) to which only one person was nominated and no one wanted to vote.  After that class mercifully ended, I time travelled like this: 

Morris and I hit the weights after school where we met another English speaking guy.  His name was Gabriel, he played college ball in Alabama, and was in VZ (his home) to train and wait for winter ball.  He was drafted as a pitcher and will report to spring training in Feb.  He was a super nice guy and wondered why on Earth were Morris and I in VZ.  We explained the situation, cracked some jokes, and he told us he'd heard us speaking English for a few days and thought we were decent dudes.  We told him we were both from Iowa, and to our surprise he said he had friends who played at DMACC and other CCs in Iowa.  Cool guy, but what a small world. 

Wednesday

At this point you know that everything I've been doing has a been a universal challenge.  By no means am I asking for pity or support, I'm just sharing with you how funny it's been. Today, I had to print off nine papers for my seniors to fill out for a unit.  I clicked on the number of copies box and thinking it was going to select the number and I would just have to push my number, I did.  But instead of switching the "1" with a "9" it added the "9".  Yep, 91 copies.  That went over well.  I had two people stop by and let me know what I did (politely) and one of our IT guys to see if my computer was working right.  I offered to pay for the paper and the ink cartridge that was soon to follow, but they said it was OK.  Hope so.  

The rest of the day ended up going like this: 

I hope tomorrow will be better too- it's our parent Open House.  I'm sure it'll be swell time. Me not being able to speak Spanish, many of them not able to speak English and both of us having an awkward smile while sharing a handshake.  Sign me up!

Six Things You May Not Know About Venezuela

Recycle?

1)  Garbage cans look much different here.  

2)  Arm curls and triceps push-downs are the country's national lifts.

3)  I can get you a copy of the new Batman/Superman movie with Ben Afflect right now.  A guy may stand up and get some popcorn, but hey, it's a small price to pay.

4)  The mosquitoes here love gringo blood or maybe just mine.  These little guys just swarm to me and use my bug spray as an appetizer.  

5)  In all seriousness, the situation here is becoming more challenging for my local friends. I refuse to comment on anything political in my blog (unless a universal shot or statement), but the inflation rate increasing is not making things easy for them.  

6)  They also have Pardon The Interruption. 

Well there you have it, hope you got a laugh out of my antics the last few days.  

I apologize for the delay in posts, but I wasn't the most motivated guy in the world for the reasons above.

Don't worry about me though, I'm still grinding.

Hope you had a happy Hump Day and enjoy the other side of the week.

Ciao, KRS