I had a busy, busy day today. It included waking up and trekking to the Bronx to meet up with my
chillens for a fun filled day of bowling. Except…most teachers had sent out the wrong permission slips, so I’m sure you can picture all the available teachers huddled into the counselors office on any phone/cell phone available. I still have an outrageously long list of parents’ numbers in my phone from calling to make sure it was
ok if we took their children to a different location. Yes, your child is fine. No he’s not in trouble. Yes, we are still going on the trip. Is this
ok? Great, have a wonderful day.
The bus was fine. I made the much smarter decision this time to actually sit in the back with the kids to provide supervision, and occasional conversations about my sign (they read me my horoscope- someone will back stab me at school this month) and an invitation to “get lit”, which apparently means dance around like a fool.
Once we got to the bowling alley, mass chaos, as usual, ensued. I policed the line for getting bowling shoes, of which they ran out. Then I was hounded my little kids while handing out slices of pizza, of which I got none. Then I helped settle a dispute of so-and-so actually bowling in so-and-so’s lane, which
wasn’t theirs. It was pure
teacherly bliss. Here’s a photo of my co-workers Rachel and Tanya.

Despite the hysteria, the kids actually had a wonderful time. Here’s the kids having a wonderful time, including many of my crazy boys.

The end of the day
couldn’t come too soon. After returning to school and doing a bit of desk work I ducked out a few minutes early to catch my bus back to Manhattan to pick up my luggage and then head out to the airport. I sat around waiting and looking at the sun set over the city.

It was a typical
LaGuardia flight-delayed. I was pretty antsy during my flight. I hate being antsy on airplanes. There’s nowhere to go, nowhere to put my feet. I read and listened to music, but was still antsy. I finally relaxed when I realized I was flying over the city of Chicago. I immediately relaxed. It was weird-felt like coming home.
I cued up for the cabs, and ended up getting a crazy driver who had gotten out of the cab to yell at the guy behind him. I was hopping the line attendant would say to get in the peaceful cab, but he ushered me into the crazy one. My luck. The guy spent the entire ride on the phone speaking in God knows what language, apparently making some claim or ordering something because there were occasionally long lists of numbers.
Turns out, he should have gotten off the damn phone cause he had no stinking clue where he was going. He made a U-turn on
Lakeshore, which is in a word-busy. Then when the wrong way again, tried to look up the name of the street on his map and claimed he
couldn’t find it…while the meter kept running. I asked him to turn it off. He turned around and turned it back on. In the end, I pretty much just chucked the money I had (which was less than the cab ride alone) and he let me cause he knew he was a tool.
Heather welcomed me with open arms, which helped me to stop hating the taxi driver and we decided to hit up a late night diner to
inaugurate my late arrival.