This wasn't quite long enough to make it as an Adventure, but I thought I'd at least write it down and pass it off as an Adventurette. More things that could/would only happen to me.Today is my last day of training as a Teaching Fellow *rejoicing.* Much to my delight, I discovered another Christian in my class who attends the Brooklyn Tabernacle. This was a great relief, because most of the individuals in my class and professors in my school are quite.... um.... worldly. For example, my fellow classmates have no problem cursing in class. My teachers don't seem to really have a problem with it, and they show their lack of concern by cursing themselves. The future of America's children.
Last week, one of my classmates sent out an e-mail to us all saying, "Let's celebrate! After class Thursday we're all going to the Loki Lounge in Park Slope for Happy Hour." Amy got the email and thought "...hmm... Loki Lounge... Pastor Cymbala's Bible study... *weighs options*..." When some of my classmates asked me if I was coming, I just said "no, I can't come" and moved on. No problems whatsoever.
However, THIS week that same girl sent out another email saying "For those of you who missed it last week, never fear! We're going BACK to the Loki Lounge this Thursday to celebrate the last day of training! No homework to do-- come on out!" I, of course, had Pastor Cymbala's Bible study again, which was my "excuse." I got to class yesterday and my FA (Fellow Advisor) whom I absolutely ADORE was like "hey guys, I got your e-mail about Loki. So I thought... why not just have our last FA session AT Loki?? We're just doing discussion-type stuff anyway, so why not do it over a few drinks? First round's on me!"
*voice in Amy's head* noooooooooooooooooooooooo.......
Two things happened here. First, I was like "... yup, I'm gonna have to say something. Not going to a bar. Gonna have to make it an issue. REALLY don't want to make it an issue... but issue it is. MAN!" Second, I was like "hey that was kinda cool. As soon as Michelle said that we were going to Loki I immediately felt 'I'm not going.' That wouldn't have happened a couple of years ago. YAY HOLY SPIRIT! I love it when little things like that happen to me that remind me I'm really a Christian." ;-)
So after class, I asked Michelle if I could talk to her privately for a second. Note: Michelle is probably one of my favorite non-Christians in the entire world. Don't know why-- just love her to death. She was all set to come to the BTC concert last Sunday, but a family emergency came up. Satan, you're a jerk. Anyway, I went to talk to her, inwardly sighing "here comes the issue," and then I thought "hey, this is a great way to witness to her!! She knows that I'm at BT... maybe she'll put two and two together and realize that this is because of God that I'm not going! Woo hoo! Action witnessing!"
So I said "Michelle... I'm not comfortable going to a bar. I know it's part of our class and that I'm required to be there, but I just won't go to a bar." And she put her hands over her mouth and said "Oh my god, Amy, I'm SO SORRY. I TOTALLY meant to send out an email asking if anyone had a problem with this idea to email me privately, and I forgot... oh my god, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry."
I'm like "... dude. Either she's feeling convicted right now or else she just really has a lot of respect for my beliefs! Regardless, this is great!" I said "no, no, it's okay-- I'm not mad! I just wanted to know what I should do." Michelle said, "Don't come. It's totally fine, you won't be penalized, just don't come. Not a problem AT ALL. Amy, I'm so totally sorry." I'm like, "wow, God! You just really put it on her heart to understand-- thank You!!" Michelle said, "look, you don't have to explain anything to me at all. My sister goes to AA meetings, so I know that some people just can't enter into that kind of environment."
Amy: "...............hrumoaijoad?"
Michelle: "Seriously, I understand. Sometimes my fiancé yells at me if I take her anywhere NEAR a bar... I just wanted you to know that it's really totally cool."
*little voice inside* FIX IT!!!! FIX IT!!!! SHE THINKS YOU'RE AN ALCOHOLIC!!!! FIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIX!!!!!!!!
TOTALLY SPEECHLESS. She left, profusely apologizing again, and I was left standing there in the middle of the hallway with my mouth open. Nicole (the other Christian in my class) came up to me and said "um, what are you doing?" I responded, "Michelle thinks I'm an alcoholic." Nicole almost peed herself laughing.
That's all, folks.
Tuesday, July 01, 2003
Sunday, June 01, 2003
Under The Influence (June 2003)
well, i'm sure you've all been breathless with anticipation over the results of amy's latest potentially humorous situation-- the removal of her wisdom teeth. and, i'll admit, i did not disappoint. humor is abundant. but before i delve into an elaborate narrative of the depths of my knack for chaos, i have to preface with some seriousness. cause God most certainly showed me His abundant mercy this past weekend and i'd be cheating Him not to testify to it.
as probably all of you know, i was NOT looking forward to this surgery. what most of you probably DON'T know is the EXTENT to which i was not looking forward to the surgery. i have this amazing ability to dwell on things and worry about them for extended periods of time. this surgery has been put off four times since last summer, when i was INITIALLY supposed to have it done. i'll tell you this much... when i first looked at the xray of my wisdom teeth, i screamed. yes, out loud. i could not even IMAGINE how the dentist was going to remove those and how i was going to survive it. i got in the car and cried and thus beganeth the panicking.
i spent the year praying about these wisdom teeth. i prayed for everything under the sun... first i prayed that God would just supernaturally remove them so that when i went back the dentist would be totally shocked and God would get the glory. did that until i checked my motives :-\ now, i can tolerate pain. nobody LIKES pain, but i have a pretty high pain tolerance. but what i do not like is medication. why? well, primarily because i don't like ingesting substances that alter the natural processes of my body. aspirin, tynenol, motrin-- whatever. no problem. but when my oral surgeon started talking about "tylenol with codeine" i said ".....excuse me, WHAT?!?!?!?!?!" right. seriousness. testifying. sorry.
see why i could never be a preacher? we'd be at church till midnight waiting for me to finish my 60th tangent.
the point is that i was scared. scared of the anaesthesia (knowing what i feel about medication... imagine what i felt about being injected with a substance that will render me unconscious), scared of the pain, scared of the medication i would have to take FOR the pain, which the doctor comfortingly reassured me that only had a 50% chance of making me throw up. big scared ugly mess = amy. so why do i say that God showed His abundant mercy, besides the fact that His mercies are indeed new every morning? well, to start, He should have struck me dead for being afraid in the FIRST place. how many times does the Bible say "fear not"? how many times in the past had God come through when i was afraid of something just to prove to me "see, Amy? you don't need to be afraid!" but amy doesn't learn lessons very well :-\ i try. but i guess i've just got a long way to go.
when i left to go on the train home, my friends nadia and najja were with me cause we had come from church and naj had helped bring my bags with me to the station. can't TELL you how much i wanted to, like, "accidentally" miss the train and have to postpone the surgery. they left and every fiber of my being wanted to be going with them. it didn't HELP that they kept BANGING ON THE WINDOWS OF THE TRAIN (yes, in public), shrieking "amy!!!!!!! don't leave!!!!!!!!!" but i was still afraid, went home, still afraid, went to bed, trying not to be afraid. i was praying, but i was still afraid. but when i woke up the next morning, i was chill as a cucumber. had two brief moments of panic while at the doctor's office, but both passed quickly. and i remained chill. so God, once again, gave me everything that i didn't deserve and kept me from what i did deserve. and i'm very grateful.
i'll try to keep the humor part brief, cause i'm tired and this email is long enough already. this CERTAINLY isn't good enough to be classified as one of "Amy's Great Adventures," but it's a least a miniature version. i was armed and dangerous with my mp3 player and Christian music mix as i walked into the dentists chair.
can i just take this moment to say that i truly believe that dentists are, as a whole, masochistic? meaning that i am persuaded that they do EVERYTHING POSSIBLE to make you uncomfortable when you're sitting in that armchair waiting for the torture to begin. i can't seem to ever sit still, so i'm swiveling around in the dentist's chair trying to amuse myself before the procedure. *swivel* first i noticed the forbidden xray of my teeth proudly displayed on the back wall. *swivel* then i noticed a series of needles staring ominously at me "hidden" under a TRANSPARENT piece of material. *swivel* then i noticed a big machine with lots of clamps and monitors that was emitting a rhythmic beeping noise over and over that, if properly used, could probably make the hardest of criminals confess to anything. *swivel* then i saw a large drill on the back table. *swivel* then i saw more needles *swivel* machines *swivel* tools *swivel* beeping *swivel* xrays *swivel* I CAN'T TAKE IT ANY MOOOOOOOOOORE!!!
*nurse enters*
Nurse (brightly): Hi Amy!
Amy: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!Nurse (brightly): Can I take your coat?
Things got better from there because I realized that half of those instruments were not for me. Ha ha! Fun for all. The procedure finally got underway and the doctor told me he was going to give me some laughing gas before giving me the anaesthesia. This was a very exciting concept, being that I enjoy laughing. He stuck a mask over my face and I continue to breathe as he hooked all these machines up to me that would monitor my heart rate and other such things while I was asleep. Slightly nerve-wracking, but I was okay. Right before he was about to put the IV in, I inquired of the doctor "should I be laughing yet?" The doctor tried to explain that it wasn't actually supposed to make you laugh... just to relax you... but he was already putting in the IV and that's when it just got cool.
Now, I am very strongly against all kinds of illegal drugs. I would never, ever in my life touch or try such things. But I say with all seriousness that I now COMPLETELY understand why people do. If anyone knows what kind of substances are actually IN anaesthesia, I beg you never to tell me. Because if I knew, I would probably spend the rest of my life on my knees in repentence. All I knew was that the minute the IV came in, I felt a vague spinning sensation and I said (yes, out loud), "Whooo!" The doctor chuckled and said "Yup, that's the anaesthesia." I remember feeling like I was going through this bizarro maze of colors (I am so serious) and I remembered hearing the voices of the doctors every once in a while... I FELT like I was "still awake" but I was just having my own personal lazer light show. The next thing I know, the colors start to go away and I was VERY disappointed. I believe I said something to the effect of "Hey, come back!" as was told to me later by my mother, who impishly decided to write down everything that I said while under the effects of the anaesthesia. Then I heard the doctors say "How are you doing, Amy?" and I gave them a thumbs up. Then I began to speak. Mistake #1. Here is a sampling of some of the things that I said:
1. THAT.... was.... SO...... COOL.
2. Are you there? (to no one)
3. Stuff is heavy!
4. Wow.... that was cool.
5. Don't move.... shhhh.... shhhh.... *silence for two minutes*
6. Take a picture! (editor's note: i refuse to believe that I said this. not until i actually see the developed film)
7. *rolls up sleeve and discovers that there was a bandaid over the spot where the IV went in* *loudly* HEY, COOOOL!!!!
There were probably more, but I don't have the official list that my mom wrote-- I'm just going from what she told me last night. So I got home and in the car I began to tell my mom about recording with the BT choir. I finished talking. Five minutes later I began to tell her the EXACT SAME STORY. My mother patiently listened and then said "Do you realize that you just told me the exact same story twice in ten minutes?" The effects of the anesthesia wore off real quick-- apparently it's supposed to make you tired. But the minute I got home I was wide awake and anxious to begin taking the painkillers. The narcotics, excuse me. I asked the dentist about 17 times "are you SURE I have to take these??? can't I just take a million motrin?" And the dentist replied "not unless you want to be in excruciating, agonizing pain." So narcotics it was. I prayed over my medication *sheepish grin*, took it, and the first two doses were great. No problems, no side effects, slight tiredness but that's it. Until I took dose #3.
For a brief moment, I thought I might die. I was standing at the sink and all of a sudden my entire body got VERY very heavy and dizziness set in. I said ".... uhoh." and crawled over to the couch and huddled in a little ball while commanding the room to stop spinning. Fortunately I fell asleep and upon waking up, the room had returned to its normal state. And then I decided that that was the END of the narcotics. So I switched to Motrin and had to deal with some pain, but better that than whatEVER was going through my system earlier. Now I'm chillin... stopped taking Motrin yesterday morning so I've been off painkillers for a day. I am strong *dun dun* I am invincible *dun dun* I am.... tired. Hence the end of my story. Tune in next time to hear what happens when Amy shows up to Brooklyn Tabernacle Choir recording tonight looking like I'm storing nuts in my cheeks.
as probably all of you know, i was NOT looking forward to this surgery. what most of you probably DON'T know is the EXTENT to which i was not looking forward to the surgery. i have this amazing ability to dwell on things and worry about them for extended periods of time. this surgery has been put off four times since last summer, when i was INITIALLY supposed to have it done. i'll tell you this much... when i first looked at the xray of my wisdom teeth, i screamed. yes, out loud. i could not even IMAGINE how the dentist was going to remove those and how i was going to survive it. i got in the car and cried and thus beganeth the panicking.
i spent the year praying about these wisdom teeth. i prayed for everything under the sun... first i prayed that God would just supernaturally remove them so that when i went back the dentist would be totally shocked and God would get the glory. did that until i checked my motives :-\ now, i can tolerate pain. nobody LIKES pain, but i have a pretty high pain tolerance. but what i do not like is medication. why? well, primarily because i don't like ingesting substances that alter the natural processes of my body. aspirin, tynenol, motrin-- whatever. no problem. but when my oral surgeon started talking about "tylenol with codeine" i said ".....excuse me, WHAT?!?!?!?!?!" right. seriousness. testifying. sorry.
see why i could never be a preacher? we'd be at church till midnight waiting for me to finish my 60th tangent.
the point is that i was scared. scared of the anaesthesia (knowing what i feel about medication... imagine what i felt about being injected with a substance that will render me unconscious), scared of the pain, scared of the medication i would have to take FOR the pain, which the doctor comfortingly reassured me that only had a 50% chance of making me throw up. big scared ugly mess = amy. so why do i say that God showed His abundant mercy, besides the fact that His mercies are indeed new every morning? well, to start, He should have struck me dead for being afraid in the FIRST place. how many times does the Bible say "fear not"? how many times in the past had God come through when i was afraid of something just to prove to me "see, Amy? you don't need to be afraid!" but amy doesn't learn lessons very well :-\ i try. but i guess i've just got a long way to go.
when i left to go on the train home, my friends nadia and najja were with me cause we had come from church and naj had helped bring my bags with me to the station. can't TELL you how much i wanted to, like, "accidentally" miss the train and have to postpone the surgery. they left and every fiber of my being wanted to be going with them. it didn't HELP that they kept BANGING ON THE WINDOWS OF THE TRAIN (yes, in public), shrieking "amy!!!!!!! don't leave!!!!!!!!!" but i was still afraid, went home, still afraid, went to bed, trying not to be afraid. i was praying, but i was still afraid. but when i woke up the next morning, i was chill as a cucumber. had two brief moments of panic while at the doctor's office, but both passed quickly. and i remained chill. so God, once again, gave me everything that i didn't deserve and kept me from what i did deserve. and i'm very grateful.
i'll try to keep the humor part brief, cause i'm tired and this email is long enough already. this CERTAINLY isn't good enough to be classified as one of "Amy's Great Adventures," but it's a least a miniature version. i was armed and dangerous with my mp3 player and Christian music mix as i walked into the dentists chair.
can i just take this moment to say that i truly believe that dentists are, as a whole, masochistic? meaning that i am persuaded that they do EVERYTHING POSSIBLE to make you uncomfortable when you're sitting in that armchair waiting for the torture to begin. i can't seem to ever sit still, so i'm swiveling around in the dentist's chair trying to amuse myself before the procedure. *swivel* first i noticed the forbidden xray of my teeth proudly displayed on the back wall. *swivel* then i noticed a series of needles staring ominously at me "hidden" under a TRANSPARENT piece of material. *swivel* then i noticed a big machine with lots of clamps and monitors that was emitting a rhythmic beeping noise over and over that, if properly used, could probably make the hardest of criminals confess to anything. *swivel* then i saw a large drill on the back table. *swivel* then i saw more needles *swivel* machines *swivel* tools *swivel* beeping *swivel* xrays *swivel* I CAN'T TAKE IT ANY MOOOOOOOOOORE!!!
*nurse enters*
Nurse (brightly): Hi Amy!
Amy: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!Nurse (brightly): Can I take your coat?
Things got better from there because I realized that half of those instruments were not for me. Ha ha! Fun for all. The procedure finally got underway and the doctor told me he was going to give me some laughing gas before giving me the anaesthesia. This was a very exciting concept, being that I enjoy laughing. He stuck a mask over my face and I continue to breathe as he hooked all these machines up to me that would monitor my heart rate and other such things while I was asleep. Slightly nerve-wracking, but I was okay. Right before he was about to put the IV in, I inquired of the doctor "should I be laughing yet?" The doctor tried to explain that it wasn't actually supposed to make you laugh... just to relax you... but he was already putting in the IV and that's when it just got cool.
Now, I am very strongly against all kinds of illegal drugs. I would never, ever in my life touch or try such things. But I say with all seriousness that I now COMPLETELY understand why people do. If anyone knows what kind of substances are actually IN anaesthesia, I beg you never to tell me. Because if I knew, I would probably spend the rest of my life on my knees in repentence. All I knew was that the minute the IV came in, I felt a vague spinning sensation and I said (yes, out loud), "Whooo!" The doctor chuckled and said "Yup, that's the anaesthesia." I remember feeling like I was going through this bizarro maze of colors (I am so serious) and I remembered hearing the voices of the doctors every once in a while... I FELT like I was "still awake" but I was just having my own personal lazer light show. The next thing I know, the colors start to go away and I was VERY disappointed. I believe I said something to the effect of "Hey, come back!" as was told to me later by my mother, who impishly decided to write down everything that I said while under the effects of the anaesthesia. Then I heard the doctors say "How are you doing, Amy?" and I gave them a thumbs up. Then I began to speak. Mistake #1. Here is a sampling of some of the things that I said:
1. THAT.... was.... SO...... COOL.
2. Are you there? (to no one)
3. Stuff is heavy!
4. Wow.... that was cool.
5. Don't move.... shhhh.... shhhh.... *silence for two minutes*
6. Take a picture! (editor's note: i refuse to believe that I said this. not until i actually see the developed film)
7. *rolls up sleeve and discovers that there was a bandaid over the spot where the IV went in* *loudly* HEY, COOOOL!!!!
There were probably more, but I don't have the official list that my mom wrote-- I'm just going from what she told me last night. So I got home and in the car I began to tell my mom about recording with the BT choir. I finished talking. Five minutes later I began to tell her the EXACT SAME STORY. My mother patiently listened and then said "Do you realize that you just told me the exact same story twice in ten minutes?" The effects of the anesthesia wore off real quick-- apparently it's supposed to make you tired. But the minute I got home I was wide awake and anxious to begin taking the painkillers. The narcotics, excuse me. I asked the dentist about 17 times "are you SURE I have to take these??? can't I just take a million motrin?" And the dentist replied "not unless you want to be in excruciating, agonizing pain." So narcotics it was. I prayed over my medication *sheepish grin*, took it, and the first two doses were great. No problems, no side effects, slight tiredness but that's it. Until I took dose #3.
For a brief moment, I thought I might die. I was standing at the sink and all of a sudden my entire body got VERY very heavy and dizziness set in. I said ".... uhoh." and crawled over to the couch and huddled in a little ball while commanding the room to stop spinning. Fortunately I fell asleep and upon waking up, the room had returned to its normal state. And then I decided that that was the END of the narcotics. So I switched to Motrin and had to deal with some pain, but better that than whatEVER was going through my system earlier. Now I'm chillin... stopped taking Motrin yesterday morning so I've been off painkillers for a day. I am strong *dun dun* I am invincible *dun dun* I am.... tired. Hence the end of my story. Tune in next time to hear what happens when Amy shows up to Brooklyn Tabernacle Choir recording tonight looking like I'm storing nuts in my cheeks.
Thursday, May 01, 2003
(Un)Noticed (May 2003)
ever have a day when you really just wanted to be unnoticed? to just invisibly maneuver through your necessary activities and return as quickly as possible to the comforts of your home? today was one of those days. no particular reason... just was feeling contemplative, pondering things... and it was rainy... you know how it is.
i've learned something about having those days. i've learned that if i wake up and suddenly sense an urge to glide covertly through my day, i should not leave my room. because if i DO leave my room, i am bound to become the center of attention in EVERY SINGLE WAY POSSIBLE. this has happened before. oh yes. last time i awoke with this vague desire for anonymity, i found myself later that day being SO MUCH the center of random strangers' attention that, medically speaking, i should have had a stroke and died. because ALL the blood in my body was making a beeline for my face. there are eyewitnesses that could testify to this, but i made them promise under penalty of excruciating torture to never speak of this occasion again.
but i digress. today was a NEW day, a NEW opportunity for embarrassment! MANY opportunities, in fact! i should have known, really, when my first activity of the day was to do a teaching observation at PS 181 in crown heights. for those of you who are not familiar with brooklyn, allow me to briefly show you the ropes. brooklyn is a wonderful borough that i am proud to call home, ripe with beauty and diversity, and i encourage all of you to visit. however, you really need to know your neighborhoods if you intend to leave again with all your body parts. allow me to make an analogy...
if you are familiar with skiing, you'll recall that different ski slopes have different symbols to designate which areas are for beginner skiers and which are for those with more experience. "green circles" indicate beginner slopes, "blue squares" indicate intermediates, and "black diamonds" indicate expert slopes. recently, ski areas have upgraded some slopes to "double black diamonds," designated for "most advanced skiers only." i've heard that there are triple black diamond slopes in the works. being a skier myself, and also being an individual who eminates some kind of aura that Trouble and Mishaps find irresistible... i found myself once atop a double black diamond slope with noooo way to get back to the lodge except down. i tentatively placed one of my skis on the hill and, almost instantaneously, found myself face down in the snow approximately 100 feet from the top. both skis had dislodged- one had found refuge in a small ditch on the side of the slope while the other was happily and freely sailing all the way down to the bottom of the mountain. i also somehow managed to lose both of my poles, with one ending up atop a small tree. i later declared that if hell were a ski lodge, all slopes would be double blacks. in fact, i proposed that those constructing the triple black slopes might as well just change the name to "Dismemberment Slopes" and modify the symbol appropriately, perhaps having an organ donation table conveniently located at the top of the mountain. "just in case."
getting back to brooklyn, there are various "degrees of difficulty" in terms of surviving in its neighborhoods. and, to briefly allude to golf, some people also have handicaps (which, for those who are unaware, is a number that you use when playing golf that is proportionate to your skill level and is figured into your score, so that if you're horrible you don't always lose embarrassingly. the worse you are, the higher your handicap.) people who have grown up in the brooklyn their whole life wouldn't even NEED a handicap. they would be perfectly fine strolling into any old place and not have to fear for their life. someone like me, however, probably has a handicap that stretches into the billions. people tell me that it's a wonder i survived poughkeepsie, let alone brooklyn. so, of course, rather than placing me in a nice "green circle" brooklyn neighborhood like park slope or brooklyn heights... i was placed in "Dismemberment." actually that's not true. there are neighborhoods worse than crown heights. but it's at LEAST a double black.
so i walked up to the school, surrounded by fences and padlocks and barred windows, and i'm feeling veeeery much like i did at the top of that ski slope. i brightly and innocently bound into this school and direct myself to the classroom, and i suddenly sense that everyone is staring at me. remember that goal to be unnoticed? sloooooowly fading out of reach. and because i'm just that naive sometimes, i found myself wondering "why are they all looking at me? is my zipper undone? do i have something in my teeth? toilet paper stuck to my shoe?" and then i realized that most of these kindergarteners and 1st graders, most of whom are from the west indies, are probably thinking "somebody forgot to color her in!"
so all through the observation (which happened to be in 3rd grade), i was getting stared at. i tried my best to just fade into the woodwork and take notes, but children are obnoxious sometimes and these kids would just stroll up to me and stare. or yell "teacher, who's that girl??" i escaped unscathed... perhaps a ski pole of pride was dangling somewhere amidst the barred windows, but all limbs and vital organs still intact. after a quick stop at home, i had to go into manhattan to get a PPD test at my doctor's office (that's the one where they stick you with a needle and make a little bubble on your arm- way cool). this was literally a two-minute procedure and i was outta there. hardly time to make a scene, you say.
*chuckle*
first the nurse gets out her materials and begins prepping the needle. i have a sick fascination with needles, so i'm sitting there watching... and the nurse seems to be having some trouble. she keeps muttering under her breath and reinserting the needle into the little jar of liquid that the needle needs to suck up. my heart gives a little flutter but i'm cool... just a pesky needle. she finally gets the needle prepped and then, nurse-like, flicks the end of the needle to get rid of excess liquid or any gas bubbles. my confidence returns in her. until she somehow manages to flick ALL OF THE LIQUID out of the needle. *expletive!*, she says and i'm suddenly paralyzed with an urge to run screaming out of the room. this circus continues with the nurse alternating between sucking up the liquid and flicking all the liquid out of the needle until i was ready to grab the needle, jam it in my arm and hightail it. she finally managed to obtain the right amount of liquid and the procedure was about to begin... when another nurse enters the room and says "i need to borrow some gloves." the nurse kindly obliges and gets set to inject the needle... when another nurse comes in and says "i need to borrow some gloves." and then a third nurse and a fourth, all asking for gloves. i was already convinced that i was in the twilight zone, so i just started laughing. my nurse said "why do you need gloves?" and another calmly replied, "there was a urine incident."
now, in my finite mind, i do not even dare to speculate. but as the company of nurses exited the room, they announced rather loudly "make sure you get that girl cleaned up!" i'm assuming that they were referring to the "urine incident." what i failed to notice was that the bathroom was located DIRECTLY across from the room i was in, and there were no other rooms between us, the bathroom, and the waiting area. so when i left after getting my shot, all the patients in the waiting room were looking curiously at me. it wasn't until i was in the elevator that i realized in horror that they thought i was the girl involved in the urine incident. strike two.
strike three was even more amusing because of its prophetic nature... i had a brief interlude back home before heading to BT choir rehearsal- we were pre-recording for our new album called "This Is Your House"- and i was talking to stacy online for a minute. she gleefully and impishly remarked that i was now a "recording artist," and i chuckled, quipping that i was actually a "let-me-not-be-the-one-to-mess-up-and-make-us-have-to-do-another-take-artist." ha ha. jokes. mirth.
until we were on our fifth song of the night, trying to prerecord "i'm going with Jesus" for the third time, and amy's mind wanders. not far, just a brief meandering, but it managed to slip away for one crucial second. and, instead of finishing the chorus and waiting for the music to play through the soloist's verse, amy steamrolls right into into the next chorus. she only got as far as "I'M...." before she realized that she had unwittingly began her first solo at the brooklyn tabernacle. she was absolutely MORTIFIED and she saw kareem (the asst. director who was directing us that evening) glance up into the alto section, looking for the perpetrator. the take was already shot, so people started to talk to each other. and some well-meaning but idiotic soul called out "it's okay, amy!" great. wonderful. i'm now BLACKLISTED. as well as mortified. moved up in the ranks from one classroom of children to a filled waiting room of adults to approximately 300 choir members who i see on a very regular basis.
i had already thrown in the towel in terms of getting through the day unnoticed-- by this point i was aiming to just get through alive. so i ran out of the church after rehearsal and joy! the #2 subway is waiting for me as i enter the station. i ran through the turnstile and leaped onto the train in one fluid motion as the doors shut. pretty slick, i thought to myself. the train's rumbling along and suddenly the conductor emerges from her cell, looks straight at me and bellows "ARE YOU GETTING OFF AT THE NEXT STOP???" stricken, i said "um... no, bergen street." all heads swivel. she continues "CAUSE YOUR COAT'S STUCK IN THE DOOR. AND THOSE DOORS DON'T OPEN UNTIL ATLANTIC AVENUE." passengers begin to chuckle. i reach down and, lo and behold, my graceful leap in front of the closing doors was not quite as slick or as effective as i had imagined it to be. desperatly grasping for some modicum of pride, i attempted to laugh it off and said "oops! well, no problem, i'll just get myself unstuck at atlantic." but, of course, when we arrived at atlantic avenue, there were kajillions of people waiting to get on the train. and, of COURSE, the train doors didn't open right away. so i was able to peer out through the windows and watch the people snickering outside at the piece of black coat stuck between the subway doors. it was all over.
i'm back in my room now and my roommate's not here, so if i embarrass myself now, it'll only be me who sees it. tune in next time for further adventures....
i've learned something about having those days. i've learned that if i wake up and suddenly sense an urge to glide covertly through my day, i should not leave my room. because if i DO leave my room, i am bound to become the center of attention in EVERY SINGLE WAY POSSIBLE. this has happened before. oh yes. last time i awoke with this vague desire for anonymity, i found myself later that day being SO MUCH the center of random strangers' attention that, medically speaking, i should have had a stroke and died. because ALL the blood in my body was making a beeline for my face. there are eyewitnesses that could testify to this, but i made them promise under penalty of excruciating torture to never speak of this occasion again.
but i digress. today was a NEW day, a NEW opportunity for embarrassment! MANY opportunities, in fact! i should have known, really, when my first activity of the day was to do a teaching observation at PS 181 in crown heights. for those of you who are not familiar with brooklyn, allow me to briefly show you the ropes. brooklyn is a wonderful borough that i am proud to call home, ripe with beauty and diversity, and i encourage all of you to visit. however, you really need to know your neighborhoods if you intend to leave again with all your body parts. allow me to make an analogy...
if you are familiar with skiing, you'll recall that different ski slopes have different symbols to designate which areas are for beginner skiers and which are for those with more experience. "green circles" indicate beginner slopes, "blue squares" indicate intermediates, and "black diamonds" indicate expert slopes. recently, ski areas have upgraded some slopes to "double black diamonds," designated for "most advanced skiers only." i've heard that there are triple black diamond slopes in the works. being a skier myself, and also being an individual who eminates some kind of aura that Trouble and Mishaps find irresistible... i found myself once atop a double black diamond slope with noooo way to get back to the lodge except down. i tentatively placed one of my skis on the hill and, almost instantaneously, found myself face down in the snow approximately 100 feet from the top. both skis had dislodged- one had found refuge in a small ditch on the side of the slope while the other was happily and freely sailing all the way down to the bottom of the mountain. i also somehow managed to lose both of my poles, with one ending up atop a small tree. i later declared that if hell were a ski lodge, all slopes would be double blacks. in fact, i proposed that those constructing the triple black slopes might as well just change the name to "Dismemberment Slopes" and modify the symbol appropriately, perhaps having an organ donation table conveniently located at the top of the mountain. "just in case."
getting back to brooklyn, there are various "degrees of difficulty" in terms of surviving in its neighborhoods. and, to briefly allude to golf, some people also have handicaps (which, for those who are unaware, is a number that you use when playing golf that is proportionate to your skill level and is figured into your score, so that if you're horrible you don't always lose embarrassingly. the worse you are, the higher your handicap.) people who have grown up in the brooklyn their whole life wouldn't even NEED a handicap. they would be perfectly fine strolling into any old place and not have to fear for their life. someone like me, however, probably has a handicap that stretches into the billions. people tell me that it's a wonder i survived poughkeepsie, let alone brooklyn. so, of course, rather than placing me in a nice "green circle" brooklyn neighborhood like park slope or brooklyn heights... i was placed in "Dismemberment." actually that's not true. there are neighborhoods worse than crown heights. but it's at LEAST a double black.
so i walked up to the school, surrounded by fences and padlocks and barred windows, and i'm feeling veeeery much like i did at the top of that ski slope. i brightly and innocently bound into this school and direct myself to the classroom, and i suddenly sense that everyone is staring at me. remember that goal to be unnoticed? sloooooowly fading out of reach. and because i'm just that naive sometimes, i found myself wondering "why are they all looking at me? is my zipper undone? do i have something in my teeth? toilet paper stuck to my shoe?" and then i realized that most of these kindergarteners and 1st graders, most of whom are from the west indies, are probably thinking "somebody forgot to color her in!"
so all through the observation (which happened to be in 3rd grade), i was getting stared at. i tried my best to just fade into the woodwork and take notes, but children are obnoxious sometimes and these kids would just stroll up to me and stare. or yell "teacher, who's that girl??" i escaped unscathed... perhaps a ski pole of pride was dangling somewhere amidst the barred windows, but all limbs and vital organs still intact. after a quick stop at home, i had to go into manhattan to get a PPD test at my doctor's office (that's the one where they stick you with a needle and make a little bubble on your arm- way cool). this was literally a two-minute procedure and i was outta there. hardly time to make a scene, you say.
*chuckle*
first the nurse gets out her materials and begins prepping the needle. i have a sick fascination with needles, so i'm sitting there watching... and the nurse seems to be having some trouble. she keeps muttering under her breath and reinserting the needle into the little jar of liquid that the needle needs to suck up. my heart gives a little flutter but i'm cool... just a pesky needle. she finally gets the needle prepped and then, nurse-like, flicks the end of the needle to get rid of excess liquid or any gas bubbles. my confidence returns in her. until she somehow manages to flick ALL OF THE LIQUID out of the needle. *expletive!*, she says and i'm suddenly paralyzed with an urge to run screaming out of the room. this circus continues with the nurse alternating between sucking up the liquid and flicking all the liquid out of the needle until i was ready to grab the needle, jam it in my arm and hightail it. she finally managed to obtain the right amount of liquid and the procedure was about to begin... when another nurse enters the room and says "i need to borrow some gloves." the nurse kindly obliges and gets set to inject the needle... when another nurse comes in and says "i need to borrow some gloves." and then a third nurse and a fourth, all asking for gloves. i was already convinced that i was in the twilight zone, so i just started laughing. my nurse said "why do you need gloves?" and another calmly replied, "there was a urine incident."
now, in my finite mind, i do not even dare to speculate. but as the company of nurses exited the room, they announced rather loudly "make sure you get that girl cleaned up!" i'm assuming that they were referring to the "urine incident." what i failed to notice was that the bathroom was located DIRECTLY across from the room i was in, and there were no other rooms between us, the bathroom, and the waiting area. so when i left after getting my shot, all the patients in the waiting room were looking curiously at me. it wasn't until i was in the elevator that i realized in horror that they thought i was the girl involved in the urine incident. strike two.
strike three was even more amusing because of its prophetic nature... i had a brief interlude back home before heading to BT choir rehearsal- we were pre-recording for our new album called "This Is Your House"- and i was talking to stacy online for a minute. she gleefully and impishly remarked that i was now a "recording artist," and i chuckled, quipping that i was actually a "let-me-not-be-the-one-to-mess-up-and-make-us-have-to-do-another-take-artist." ha ha. jokes. mirth.
until we were on our fifth song of the night, trying to prerecord "i'm going with Jesus" for the third time, and amy's mind wanders. not far, just a brief meandering, but it managed to slip away for one crucial second. and, instead of finishing the chorus and waiting for the music to play through the soloist's verse, amy steamrolls right into into the next chorus. she only got as far as "I'M...." before she realized that she had unwittingly began her first solo at the brooklyn tabernacle. she was absolutely MORTIFIED and she saw kareem (the asst. director who was directing us that evening) glance up into the alto section, looking for the perpetrator. the take was already shot, so people started to talk to each other. and some well-meaning but idiotic soul called out "it's okay, amy!" great. wonderful. i'm now BLACKLISTED. as well as mortified. moved up in the ranks from one classroom of children to a filled waiting room of adults to approximately 300 choir members who i see on a very regular basis.
i had already thrown in the towel in terms of getting through the day unnoticed-- by this point i was aiming to just get through alive. so i ran out of the church after rehearsal and joy! the #2 subway is waiting for me as i enter the station. i ran through the turnstile and leaped onto the train in one fluid motion as the doors shut. pretty slick, i thought to myself. the train's rumbling along and suddenly the conductor emerges from her cell, looks straight at me and bellows "ARE YOU GETTING OFF AT THE NEXT STOP???" stricken, i said "um... no, bergen street." all heads swivel. she continues "CAUSE YOUR COAT'S STUCK IN THE DOOR. AND THOSE DOORS DON'T OPEN UNTIL ATLANTIC AVENUE." passengers begin to chuckle. i reach down and, lo and behold, my graceful leap in front of the closing doors was not quite as slick or as effective as i had imagined it to be. desperatly grasping for some modicum of pride, i attempted to laugh it off and said "oops! well, no problem, i'll just get myself unstuck at atlantic." but, of course, when we arrived at atlantic avenue, there were kajillions of people waiting to get on the train. and, of COURSE, the train doors didn't open right away. so i was able to peer out through the windows and watch the people snickering outside at the piece of black coat stuck between the subway doors. it was all over.
i'm back in my room now and my roommate's not here, so if i embarrass myself now, it'll only be me who sees it. tune in next time for further adventures....
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