This past weekend Erik and I went out to dinner at Reef restaurant. I was incredibly excited to try Reef. Bon Appetit magazine named the number one seafood restaurant in the country, an incredibly lofty statement. Bryan Caswell, the chef, has worked for Jean Georges and it shows. Reef uses seasonal ingredients and locally sources his fish. I wish more places would start doing this. Plus, Bryan Caswell, the chef and owner, gets his fish from Airline Seafood on Shepherd. Airline Seafood has beautiful, gleaming, fresh fish mostly from local resources.
Reef is reminiscent of the ocean. Along one wall is relaxing white waves. The candles and light fixtures almost reminded me of coral. Additionally, the tables are made of mother of pearl, mimicking white sand and the wine cellar almost reminded me of being encased in an aquarium. The whole vibe of the place was completely transporting.
Reef has really interesting fish selections, like sea bream, tile fish, and amberjack. There was even something his friend caught in a spearfishing competition that he drove over to the restaurant because he wanted it to be on the menu, how cool!
The bread, which kind of reminded me of the stuff you get at bbq joints, was a white, mini burger roll looking thing that came with jalapeno jelly (so Texas). I loved the idea of the jelly, but I wish the bread was a bit more refined for such an amazing place. The jelly was great though.
We ordered the kanzuri cured yellow tail in cucumber water. The waitress told us that kanzuri is a chili paste from the mountains of Japan where the peppers have been exposed to the snow. I was really excited to try it. When the dish came I immediately dipped my piece of fish in the paste. It was a bit over powering. I liked it better with a smidgeon of the paste and the cucumber water. The dish was light and had really bright flavors. It was a perfect start to a meal.
For our main dishes we ordered redfish on the half shell with fried macaroni and collard greens and asparagus tips dressed with what tasted like asian fish oil as well as the grilled scallops with the truffle polenta and mushroom ragout. We also ordered a side dish of the fries with the Sriracha Remoulade because it was listed on the 100 Southern foods you must have before you die...and let me tell you that list was RIGHT!
The food took about an hour to arrive. I was starting to get cranky and give our server the hairy eyeball towards the end. I like to linger and enjoy my meal, but we felt a bit forgotten about.
The fried macaroni and cheese was divine. It came out in a square surrounded by a crispy bread crust, so each bit had crunch to it. The collard greens were perfectly salty and sweet. The redfish was OK though. It was seasoned well, with traditional Lousianan spices, but it was just a tad overcooked. The fish was moist, but not as much as it should have been considering how fresh it was. It came with the scales in tact, which is why it says its on the half shell. All in all I expected a bit more from the fish. The grilled scallops were also OK. They were excpetionally fresh, bit I wanted more of a nice, grilled crust on the outside. They were a little soft. The polenta was nice, but I did not taste truffle. I enjoyed the meal, but perhaps other dishes may have been better. The fries and Sriracha Remoulade were phenonmenal. I wanted to like the dish (I am not kidding). I am on a mission to replicate the dip which I think was a combination of oil and egg (mayonnaise) combined with sriracha, lime, and salt, heaven.
Overall is was a good dining experience. I want to go back and try the mussels and crab cake. Supposedly one of the soux chefs that created the recipe is from Baltimore, so that crab cakes gotta be good. Erik and I will be back to give it another chance. There were many dishes on the menu that sounded interesting, plus I gotta have that remoulade again. Go.
reefhouston.com
2600 Travis
Sunday, March 22, 2009
Sunday, March 15, 2009
My new food idea and lamb stew with papperdele recipe
I have been trying to figure out how to incorporate food onto the blog...you know since it is called "The Kitchen Table and all. The list with what my family was eating for the week did not work. Since I am technologically inept it just ended up pissing me off. Instead I will experiment with adding a few recipes a week that my family particularly loved. Many friends ask for recipes and have questions about what my wee ones like to eat...so I will post that on the blog as well. Oh, and my agave nectar recipes too, for those that want some yummy, somewhat healthy (sometimes really healthy actually) sweet treats that you will NOT feel guilty about eating. AND to overwelm you just a bit more I thought I may also write about all my great food finds as they occur (just in case you are interested).
This week I made a really great, warming lamb stew. For the past few weeks in Houston it has been HOT, at about 80 degrees. This past week it was COLD at about 48 degrees (I have become such a wimp!), especially after we started to get used to the warm weather. The lamb stew was perfect for a cold, rainy Friday night. It was one of those stick to your ribs meals. Yum. Oh, and I got the recipe from Everyday Pasta by Giada (one of my favorite chefs).
Lamb Stew with Papperdele (this recipe fed 3 people). We drank a nice, hunky malbec with this. It went well.
Papperdele is a thick, wide pasta. I sops up juices very nicely. Giada says fresh pasta is best, but my market did not have any and the dry was still delicious. Also, cipploini onions are sooo yummy. They are super sweet. Maya ate them plain. If I had a restaurant cippolini would be a name I'd contemplate for it. It is such a cool word, cippolini.
tablespoon or so of olive or grapeseed oil
1 pound of lamb sirloin (ask your butcher to cut it into 1 and half to 2 inch pieces. Also you can use boneless leg of lamb. I found sirloin easier because it was already trimmed of the fat and cheaper too).
2 tablespoons of flour (white or whole wheat...you just need enough to coat the lamb).
2 pieces of garlic minced
1/4 cup of dry red wine wine
1 3/4 cup of beef broth
1/2 14 ounce can of diced tomato with the juice
1/2 tablespoon of tomato paste
1 carrot cut into one inch pieces
9 cippolini onions
salt and pepper to taste
1/2 package of papperdele
two tablespoons of parsley
1 1/2 tablespoon of butter
1/8 (or more) cup of parmesean cheese (freshly grated)
Leave the lamb out to rest for about 15 minutes while you prep everything. I usually prep, by the way, when my daughters are sleeping. If your kids are awake give them some mixing bowls and spatulas to play with. If you do not kids, open up that bottle of wine your are going to use and pour yourself a hefty glass. Shit, if you do have kids pour yourself an even heftier glass!
Salt and pepper the lamb. Add the oil to a heavy sauce pan. Coat the lamb in a bowl with the flour. Brown the meat, about 5 minutes or less a side. Take the meat out and add the garlic, stirring until fragrant, about a minute. Add the wine and get those nice brown bits off the bottom of the pan. Let the wine reduce to half then add the broth. Add the lamb back into the pan. Let lamb cook with lid slightly open for an hour. Meanwhile boil some water and add the cippolini onions. Cook for about 2 minutes. Take the onions out with a slotted spoon. When they cool peel off the outer layer and cut off the stringy parts. After the lamb cooks for an hour add the onions and carrots and cook for 25 minutes more with the lid off. Meanwhile boil a pot of slated water. Boil the pasta, if dry, for about 9 minutes. When the pasta is done toss it with the parm and the butter. When plating use bowls. Add the pasta, pour a little stew over the papperdele, and sprinkle some pasta on top. Enjoy!!!!
This week I made a really great, warming lamb stew. For the past few weeks in Houston it has been HOT, at about 80 degrees. This past week it was COLD at about 48 degrees (I have become such a wimp!), especially after we started to get used to the warm weather. The lamb stew was perfect for a cold, rainy Friday night. It was one of those stick to your ribs meals. Yum. Oh, and I got the recipe from Everyday Pasta by Giada (one of my favorite chefs).
Lamb Stew with Papperdele (this recipe fed 3 people). We drank a nice, hunky malbec with this. It went well.
Papperdele is a thick, wide pasta. I sops up juices very nicely. Giada says fresh pasta is best, but my market did not have any and the dry was still delicious. Also, cipploini onions are sooo yummy. They are super sweet. Maya ate them plain. If I had a restaurant cippolini would be a name I'd contemplate for it. It is such a cool word, cippolini.
tablespoon or so of olive or grapeseed oil
1 pound of lamb sirloin (ask your butcher to cut it into 1 and half to 2 inch pieces. Also you can use boneless leg of lamb. I found sirloin easier because it was already trimmed of the fat and cheaper too).
2 tablespoons of flour (white or whole wheat...you just need enough to coat the lamb).
2 pieces of garlic minced
1/4 cup of dry red wine wine
1 3/4 cup of beef broth
1/2 14 ounce can of diced tomato with the juice
1/2 tablespoon of tomato paste
1 carrot cut into one inch pieces
9 cippolini onions
salt and pepper to taste
1/2 package of papperdele
two tablespoons of parsley
1 1/2 tablespoon of butter
1/8 (or more) cup of parmesean cheese (freshly grated)
Leave the lamb out to rest for about 15 minutes while you prep everything. I usually prep, by the way, when my daughters are sleeping. If your kids are awake give them some mixing bowls and spatulas to play with. If you do not kids, open up that bottle of wine your are going to use and pour yourself a hefty glass. Shit, if you do have kids pour yourself an even heftier glass!
Salt and pepper the lamb. Add the oil to a heavy sauce pan. Coat the lamb in a bowl with the flour. Brown the meat, about 5 minutes or less a side. Take the meat out and add the garlic, stirring until fragrant, about a minute. Add the wine and get those nice brown bits off the bottom of the pan. Let the wine reduce to half then add the broth. Add the lamb back into the pan. Let lamb cook with lid slightly open for an hour. Meanwhile boil some water and add the cippolini onions. Cook for about 2 minutes. Take the onions out with a slotted spoon. When they cool peel off the outer layer and cut off the stringy parts. After the lamb cooks for an hour add the onions and carrots and cook for 25 minutes more with the lid off. Meanwhile boil a pot of slated water. Boil the pasta, if dry, for about 9 minutes. When the pasta is done toss it with the parm and the butter. When plating use bowls. Add the pasta, pour a little stew over the papperdele, and sprinkle some pasta on top. Enjoy!!!!
Sunday, March 8, 2009
Boob feeding
Four days ago I finished breast feeding Maya and Amara. I thought when I'd be done it would be a relief, but I am actually kind of sad. Breast feeding was beautiful. It gave me a whole new perspective on life. Being a woman and being able to provide for one's children on that level...there is nothing else like it. Literally, I gave the girls my self. Woman who do it are rock stars.
Initially breast feeding was not easy. In fact, breast feeding the girls was one of the hardest things I have ever done (aside from birthing them). Women do not usually talk about how hard breast feeding is at first. Many women cannot handle it. Breast feeding, plus new babies mixed with a huge jolt of hormones is just too much. I was determined to feed them. Nothing was going to stop me, not burning nipples, blisters, leakage ALL over the house, or the occasional clogged duct.
The first few months were incredibly difficult. In the middle of the night my breasts would start burning horribly. The only thing that would help relieve the pain was hot water. I showered twice a day with the hottest water my body would allow pounding on my poor, sore boobies. It felt like they were almost frost-bitten, but instead of fingers and toes it was mammary glands. Before I fed the girls I would put my boobs in a measuring cup of hot water and stand by the kitchen window into my neighbors horribly ugly backyard. I did this 6 or more times in a 24 hour period. Around this time the blisters on my nipples started. I had to make twice the amount of milk, so my boobs were incredibly full (I mean bigger than Dolly Parton...not sexy at all REALLY, plus Erik could not touch them because of the PAIN, so fellas get that idea out of your head...it was not AWESOME). There was no relief to the blisters because the girls were constantly sucking on where they were. As I fed them I would scream out in pain and cry. It felt like torture. Most people would have stopped feeding their children at this point. I kept on going. We bought heating pads. I used those heat packets and walked around with them in my bra all day (because the burning thing started to occur during the day too). When my boob would get clogged I learned another type of pain. Clogged boob is when the milk cannot come out, it gets stuck, and it is not comfortable. I would have to vigourously massage the boob as the girls would suck the milk out. When my boob unclogged milk would spew out of me like a gyser.
At about 4 months it got better, but it took that long. The girls became better feeders. It got to the point where I could just lay down. They would crawl up, nuzzle in to me and feed. All that crap I went through was totally worth those moments when the three of us would cuddle together as they fed. It was heaven. The most natural thing in the world happening since humankind began. It got so much easier. I am so glad that I trudged through all that bad stuff because in the end it was wonderful, that connection...unexplainable. I am proud to. Pretty cool. I will miss it.
Initially breast feeding was not easy. In fact, breast feeding the girls was one of the hardest things I have ever done (aside from birthing them). Women do not usually talk about how hard breast feeding is at first. Many women cannot handle it. Breast feeding, plus new babies mixed with a huge jolt of hormones is just too much. I was determined to feed them. Nothing was going to stop me, not burning nipples, blisters, leakage ALL over the house, or the occasional clogged duct.
The first few months were incredibly difficult. In the middle of the night my breasts would start burning horribly. The only thing that would help relieve the pain was hot water. I showered twice a day with the hottest water my body would allow pounding on my poor, sore boobies. It felt like they were almost frost-bitten, but instead of fingers and toes it was mammary glands. Before I fed the girls I would put my boobs in a measuring cup of hot water and stand by the kitchen window into my neighbors horribly ugly backyard. I did this 6 or more times in a 24 hour period. Around this time the blisters on my nipples started. I had to make twice the amount of milk, so my boobs were incredibly full (I mean bigger than Dolly Parton...not sexy at all REALLY, plus Erik could not touch them because of the PAIN, so fellas get that idea out of your head...it was not AWESOME). There was no relief to the blisters because the girls were constantly sucking on where they were. As I fed them I would scream out in pain and cry. It felt like torture. Most people would have stopped feeding their children at this point. I kept on going. We bought heating pads. I used those heat packets and walked around with them in my bra all day (because the burning thing started to occur during the day too). When my boob would get clogged I learned another type of pain. Clogged boob is when the milk cannot come out, it gets stuck, and it is not comfortable. I would have to vigourously massage the boob as the girls would suck the milk out. When my boob unclogged milk would spew out of me like a gyser.
At about 4 months it got better, but it took that long. The girls became better feeders. It got to the point where I could just lay down. They would crawl up, nuzzle in to me and feed. All that crap I went through was totally worth those moments when the three of us would cuddle together as they fed. It was heaven. The most natural thing in the world happening since humankind began. It got so much easier. I am so glad that I trudged through all that bad stuff because in the end it was wonderful, that connection...unexplainable. I am proud to. Pretty cool. I will miss it.
Monday, March 2, 2009
My intention (or there lack of)
I am trying to figure out what the intention of my blog is. What do I want to get out of it? Where are my posts going. Lately I have been really hesitant to write. I even skipped a week. It felt more...public. I wrote the post about my whole "smelling" experience and someone got offended. It made me feel...like I had to be careful. Edited. It is really hard for me to feel edited. It is just not in my nature, but I also do not want to hurt people. Plus, at the time it was the only, "comment" to speak of...that just seemed like bad mojo. I even made one of my best friends and husband write a comment to make the one really bad one seem better. Sad huh? I had no idea the woman I wrote about even found me. I am not even sure how.
My writing is just beginning, again, and I am really new at the whole blog thing. I know I have to be mindful of my subject matter and who reads what I write. I know one day when I may be looking for a job my coworker or potential boss may see this, but I have never been the kind of person who "thinks" about what I write or say for that matter...this has gotten me in to trouble numerous times. Erik thinks I should shut this blog down or just write about food on this blog and start another "shadow" blog anonymously, so I may write FUCK as much as I want.
I want this blog to be my truth, whatever that may be in the moment. Sometimes I will write about food or a great restaurant (or not so great) or an awesome meal I made or ate, but sometimes I will write about my fears, issues, memories, or whatever is in my heart at that moment. So, the subject of the blog, for the moment, will be "my truth". It is my special place where I get to explore the different aspects of who I am. It is public for all to see. Sometimes I tell people I have a blog and blush...I am not sure if what I have to say has any relevance to others, but I am also not sure that really matters. I have to be OK with that.
My writing is just beginning, again, and I am really new at the whole blog thing. I know I have to be mindful of my subject matter and who reads what I write. I know one day when I may be looking for a job my coworker or potential boss may see this, but I have never been the kind of person who "thinks" about what I write or say for that matter...this has gotten me in to trouble numerous times. Erik thinks I should shut this blog down or just write about food on this blog and start another "shadow" blog anonymously, so I may write FUCK as much as I want.
I want this blog to be my truth, whatever that may be in the moment. Sometimes I will write about food or a great restaurant (or not so great) or an awesome meal I made or ate, but sometimes I will write about my fears, issues, memories, or whatever is in my heart at that moment. So, the subject of the blog, for the moment, will be "my truth". It is my special place where I get to explore the different aspects of who I am. It is public for all to see. Sometimes I tell people I have a blog and blush...I am not sure if what I have to say has any relevance to others, but I am also not sure that really matters. I have to be OK with that.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Yet another crazy dream...
Last night I had a nightmare. I was on a city street, walking when all of the sudden a bus driver went completely rogue. The bus was trying to slam in to people and going on the sidewalks. It seems almost cartoonlike. The bus would sway over, hit people. The bus seemed as if it was aiming for me. Each time it would aim for people it would just miss me by a hair. I would jump back and press myself against a store window or hide in an alley to get away from it. It seemed never-ending, as if I had no where to go. Is there a huge bus coming to run me over? Is this a signifier of the fear I feel sometimes in life, as if something huge is about to come and wipe all this beauty away. On some level am I the crazy bus driver trying to run myself over? It sure feels like that sometimes.
I get in the way of myself. I am what stops “me” most of the time. I can blame it on time, a hangover, my husband or kids, but really that is a bunch of horseshit. When they say you are your worst enemy it is completely true. Shit is always going to be in the way, my shit. Usually, the crap that is in the way is inside though, lurking and sneaky. Sometimes (well most of the time) it comes out when I am driving…though now when I curse I have to spell out, “F-U-C-K”. When you have to spell out your curse words they loose their luster. Trust me, not as much fun. At the gym I’d kick and punch at it, sweating and grimacing it out of my body. Most of the time I do not even realize all that crap is there, unless I breathe and FEEL it. It is that stuff that compresses my spine. “It” catches up to me when I am dreaming in the form of crazy drivers; how incredibly ironic.
Oh, and I got a ticket on the day that I write this...it must be a sign. Argh.
I get in the way of myself. I am what stops “me” most of the time. I can blame it on time, a hangover, my husband or kids, but really that is a bunch of horseshit. When they say you are your worst enemy it is completely true. Shit is always going to be in the way, my shit. Usually, the crap that is in the way is inside though, lurking and sneaky. Sometimes (well most of the time) it comes out when I am driving…though now when I curse I have to spell out, “F-U-C-K”. When you have to spell out your curse words they loose their luster. Trust me, not as much fun. At the gym I’d kick and punch at it, sweating and grimacing it out of my body. Most of the time I do not even realize all that crap is there, unless I breathe and FEEL it. It is that stuff that compresses my spine. “It” catches up to me when I am dreaming in the form of crazy drivers; how incredibly ironic.
Oh, and I got a ticket on the day that I write this...it must be a sign. Argh.
Thursday, February 12, 2009
What I carry
I keep thinking about burdens. The stuff we carry on our backs and in our hearts. How we pass the burden on to the next generation for them to hold onto.
My shoulders hurt way too much these days. I carry my burden there. The load keeps me up at night. At 3 in the morning I am inspired my brain ticking along with the clock, twisting and turning.
This week I found myself yelling at the girls, "No". Maya stiffens her body, bangs her head into me, crys out. How do I let her know she should not throw her food on the ground? It is not safe to go into the computer area with all those wires, "no".
All she hears is yelling, my tone of voice, and she sees the look on my face and thinks...bad (or so I imagine). I do not want to give yelling to my daughters. In front of them I yell when I am mad. Mad means anger. I have had enough with anger. Anger stews and festers. Anger is in my blood. It is exhausting.
What I must do is talk. Tell Maya it is dangerous to go in the computer area. I love her and do not want her to get hurt. One day she will get it.
Yesterday the girls were in their fort. I joined them. It is safe in there. The light reflects through the holes on the roof. The fort protects. It is private. I like it and understand the need to hide, but I do not want them to have that need. I do not want them to understand, go inside.
What it comes down to is pain. The need to protect. I must protect them from me. I must let the burdens go. They will not be passed on. All of it ends here, with me.
My shoulders hurt way too much these days. I carry my burden there. The load keeps me up at night. At 3 in the morning I am inspired my brain ticking along with the clock, twisting and turning.
This week I found myself yelling at the girls, "No". Maya stiffens her body, bangs her head into me, crys out. How do I let her know she should not throw her food on the ground? It is not safe to go into the computer area with all those wires, "no".
All she hears is yelling, my tone of voice, and she sees the look on my face and thinks...bad (or so I imagine). I do not want to give yelling to my daughters. In front of them I yell when I am mad. Mad means anger. I have had enough with anger. Anger stews and festers. Anger is in my blood. It is exhausting.
What I must do is talk. Tell Maya it is dangerous to go in the computer area. I love her and do not want her to get hurt. One day she will get it.
Yesterday the girls were in their fort. I joined them. It is safe in there. The light reflects through the holes on the roof. The fort protects. It is private. I like it and understand the need to hide, but I do not want them to have that need. I do not want them to understand, go inside.
What it comes down to is pain. The need to protect. I must protect them from me. I must let the burdens go. They will not be passed on. All of it ends here, with me.
Monday, February 2, 2009
How I fell out of teaching: Part II
There was the incident, then there was the aftermath. Going to work every day became a living hell for me. I did not know who was saying all this crap about me. After I really thought about it (oh and I did) none of it really made any sense. Was I detoxing because I quit smoking? Did I eat tuna one day and smell afterwards? Should I take garlic out of my diet? These thoughts were absolutely ridiculous, and why should I even have had to worry about such utter nonsense. Looking back on all of it now, the situation almost seems unreal, like some kind of freakish nightmare, but it was real.
People were talking. My class was observed by one of the Assistant Principal's. He actually had the nerve to say to me during a professional review of my work that he walked passed me every day to see if maybe it was my breath that smelled, but he could never smell anything. He actually said this to me. I am not making this shit up. I had to get to the bottom of things. I had a feeling the "smell rumour" had something to do with the other woman I shared a room with, Jody. Jody did not like me, that was already apparent. The two of us were around the same age. She was tenure, so I think she thought perhaps she was entitled to things. For instance, she only "allowed" me to use a quarter of the chalkboard. Also, I had a small piece of a desk to place my handouts. She'd write me strange notes about cleaning issues in the classroom instead of actually speaking to me as an adult. I let her have her board and the desk because it did not really matter to me, yet seemed incredibly important to her.
I had two classrooms. Having two classrooms and no desk of any sort can take its toll on a frazzled person such as myself. Every day I'd forget a hand out and every day I'd have the same sweet, trustworthy student go get whatever it was that I needed. One day, my student told me she would not go get my stuff. I asked why. She seemed uncomfortable and said, "The teacher in your other room does not like you, and she is not a nice person". Hmmmm...It turned out that Jody was talking to the students about me. I am not sure if she brought it up to them or vice versa, but I found out that she told students to go to the principal to tell them I smelled. She also told them to tell their parents as well. Wow.
I went to my department chair and the principal. This woman helped create a horrible rumour about me. What she did was horrible and downright mean. Because of her I had to regain the respect of my students. Teachers were talking about me. I cannot believe I had to deal with this kind of crap where I worked. We had a meeting. She said the students were complaining, "what was she to do?" Poor thing. After the meeting she actually hugged me in front of the office. I let her. Ugh!
School starting to make me nauseous. It was around this time that I began having sleep issues. I started taking sick days, so I could sleep. Going to work became really hard. I actually started going to a healer to resolve all the issues I was having. Every day I had to force myself to go to teach with my head held high.
The next year I would have had tenure. I could have done what I wanted to. All that hard work, all that bol shit that I had to deal with through out the year because of that rumour with students would not have mattered anymore. I do not think that Jody should have gotten off so easy. Teachers are supposed to be role models and act like professionals. At the end of the year we got our placements for the following school year. I never went to my department chair to tell him what grade or level I wanted to teach. He gave me the worst possible schedule. I actually would have had to teach in both buildings (it takes 15 minutes to get from one side to the other). In my mind my schedule was just another nail in the coffin. I knew at that point that Erik and I were moving to Houston. I could not stay at that school. At the time I felt like I rather start somewhere new, learn a new curriculum. My last year in Philadelphia I took another job at a new school. Now, I realize that the whole smelling thing was really the beginning of the end. I was done with teaching then, even though I taught at another school for a year. My heart was just not in it anymore.
It has been about 6 years since I taught in New Jersey. I still wonder if I really did smell. Maybe I did for about a week when I quit smoking, maybe not. I will never know, but nor do I really care. People can be incredibly cruel. Mostly, cruelty stems from something else. Usually, its their own shit that they need to deal with. The whole thing was very strange.
I know I always say that the universe gives us signs. I felt like the whole mess was a huge, blaring billboard telling me that there was something else out there for me, something more. Oh, and I was right. I am not sure what the hell that is yet, but it will come.
People were talking. My class was observed by one of the Assistant Principal's. He actually had the nerve to say to me during a professional review of my work that he walked passed me every day to see if maybe it was my breath that smelled, but he could never smell anything. He actually said this to me. I am not making this shit up. I had to get to the bottom of things. I had a feeling the "smell rumour" had something to do with the other woman I shared a room with, Jody. Jody did not like me, that was already apparent. The two of us were around the same age. She was tenure, so I think she thought perhaps she was entitled to things. For instance, she only "allowed" me to use a quarter of the chalkboard. Also, I had a small piece of a desk to place my handouts. She'd write me strange notes about cleaning issues in the classroom instead of actually speaking to me as an adult. I let her have her board and the desk because it did not really matter to me, yet seemed incredibly important to her.
I had two classrooms. Having two classrooms and no desk of any sort can take its toll on a frazzled person such as myself. Every day I'd forget a hand out and every day I'd have the same sweet, trustworthy student go get whatever it was that I needed. One day, my student told me she would not go get my stuff. I asked why. She seemed uncomfortable and said, "The teacher in your other room does not like you, and she is not a nice person". Hmmmm...It turned out that Jody was talking to the students about me. I am not sure if she brought it up to them or vice versa, but I found out that she told students to go to the principal to tell them I smelled. She also told them to tell their parents as well. Wow.
I went to my department chair and the principal. This woman helped create a horrible rumour about me. What she did was horrible and downright mean. Because of her I had to regain the respect of my students. Teachers were talking about me. I cannot believe I had to deal with this kind of crap where I worked. We had a meeting. She said the students were complaining, "what was she to do?" Poor thing. After the meeting she actually hugged me in front of the office. I let her. Ugh!
School starting to make me nauseous. It was around this time that I began having sleep issues. I started taking sick days, so I could sleep. Going to work became really hard. I actually started going to a healer to resolve all the issues I was having. Every day I had to force myself to go to teach with my head held high.
The next year I would have had tenure. I could have done what I wanted to. All that hard work, all that bol shit that I had to deal with through out the year because of that rumour with students would not have mattered anymore. I do not think that Jody should have gotten off so easy. Teachers are supposed to be role models and act like professionals. At the end of the year we got our placements for the following school year. I never went to my department chair to tell him what grade or level I wanted to teach. He gave me the worst possible schedule. I actually would have had to teach in both buildings (it takes 15 minutes to get from one side to the other). In my mind my schedule was just another nail in the coffin. I knew at that point that Erik and I were moving to Houston. I could not stay at that school. At the time I felt like I rather start somewhere new, learn a new curriculum. My last year in Philadelphia I took another job at a new school. Now, I realize that the whole smelling thing was really the beginning of the end. I was done with teaching then, even though I taught at another school for a year. My heart was just not in it anymore.
It has been about 6 years since I taught in New Jersey. I still wonder if I really did smell. Maybe I did for about a week when I quit smoking, maybe not. I will never know, but nor do I really care. People can be incredibly cruel. Mostly, cruelty stems from something else. Usually, its their own shit that they need to deal with. The whole thing was very strange.
I know I always say that the universe gives us signs. I felt like the whole mess was a huge, blaring billboard telling me that there was something else out there for me, something more. Oh, and I was right. I am not sure what the hell that is yet, but it will come.
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