Fat Pants

It took three months, but I have finally got a pair of pants that I will have to put away because they are too big. I wore them today and I knew when I put them on that I should change, but I didn't want to take the time. So I was hitching them up all day, how professional! I didn't care. It feels good to not fit into my fat pants. My weigh and measure day at Curves is the 30th, but I am ambivalent about seeing what the scale has to say. I would rather just go with what the fat pants say.

Dreams

I fought the sugar and the sugar won. Well, the sugar is winning right now. The good news is that even though I haven't been recording my food intake, and I haven't been making very healthy food choices, I have not let go of my exercise program. I still go faithfully to the gym 3 times a week and it feels really good. It isn't boring, and it goes by fast. There are other women there to talk to and every time I do it, I get to be really proud of myself for taking good care of me.
I have been having school dreams every night. Every. Single. Night. I think it might be a good idea to document the dreams. Not sure why I think that. I just do. In real life today, I am meeting a friend from college for lunch. Then I am driving the kids halfway to Phoenix to meet their father, who will take them for the weekend. Then, I will head to Globe, where I will meet my best girlfriend at a bed and breakfast for a sleepover. We planned this months ago. Meanwhile, I am watching my nephew while one of my sisters is in New York. You'll see how all these things come into play in my dream of last night.
Here is the dream, as best as I can remember it - they fade so quickly. I am in school as the teacher. (Sometimes I am the teacher, and other times I am the student.) It is the first week of school, the fourth day, so it is Thursday. I have been doing OK with the kids, getting them used to my routines and such - this is an 8th grade special ed class, about 17 kids. Today, the kids decide to challenge me. Instead of handling it like a professional, of course I am a complete ninny. Screaming and yelling, threatening with empty threats, etc. and the kids are loving it. It is near the end of the school day, and I just keep thinking, another hour. I can do this. Naturally the principal and other teachers are popping in and out, not helping, but taking note of the fact that I obviously can not handle my kids. Then suddenly I remember I am supposed to be taking a trip to New York with my best girlfriend! We are leaving tonight! I am supposed to meet her at the airport in a few hours! And I haven't got a sub for tomorrow, much less lesson plans! (Who gets a sub for the first week of school??!!) So I go to the phone and try to call HR so I can get a sub, and I have to chase 3 of my female students off the phone who were using it without my permission by the way, and then the phone doesn't work! And on the other line, the tech guy is all of a sudden there and telling me he is on his way to my classroom to remove the fiber from the phone line because it needs to be fixed! So I will be without phone and computer. Then I realize I have a computer, and I haven't even tried to use it. Somehow or another I find out that there are no subs available for tomorrow. Meanwhile I am supposed to be teaching this whole time. It is the middle of a social studies lesson, of all things. I'm a math teacher for gosh sake. So in between trying to get the kids to get textbooks and open them up, and get the kids that are hiding behind the kids in the back row, crouched next to the wall smoking cigarettes, I realize that I need to call my best girlfriend and tell her I can't make it. This is bad because I already know that she has paid for the plane tickets. I really don't want her to be mad at me. I keep trying to get her number to come up on my cell phone so I can call her, but I can't call her on my cell phone because the battery is dying. I keep trying to get the number to come up long enough for me to dial it on the classroom phone, which is only working part of the time, and the number keeps disappearing, and the principal keeps coming in, and my eyes are glued shut, and there is a dance after school that I promised to chaperone and forgot about, and I can't get ahold of my girlfriend to tell her I won't be meeting her at the airport.
Then, thank the Goddess, I woke up. This is happening every single night, I am not kidding. Maybe if I write them down they will stop. There is just no need for this kind of anxiety! I'm a good teacher! What the hell??!! Could the sugar and the dreams be connected?!

Who's counting

I overdid my workout yesterday. I only think that because I hurt whenever I move. One of the machines at Curves is definitely getting the better of me. I can do all of them, and most of them are nothing new. But this one, this horrible contraption designed to work the lower trunk, is just beastly. So of course I work harder on that one than any other, instead of taking it easy, and now I am paying for it.
The exercise is messing up my food. On the days I work out, I get hungry a couple of hours before lunchtime. So I eat a snack, and then I'm not hungry at lunchtime, and the whole day gets screwed up. I'm not sure what to do about that. Timing is important on this food plan I am doing.
Mentally, I am doing better than I have in a very long time. I feel stable and clear headed most of the time. I do not feel depressed, which is wonderful. Today I am going to my new classroom and working for a few hours. My goal is to have the lesson plans done for the entire year before school starts. They would be preliminary lesson plans, that I would adjust as needed, but it will be a good base to start with. That should make my workday shorter and allow time for other things, like working out and planning my food.

Day 4

Today is supposed to be the hardest as far as sugar withdrawal. Yesterday afternoon I was craving beer, wine, anything with sugar. I kept reminding myself that if I had any, I would be priming my brain to want more, and the cravings would be worse, and it would be worse for at least a day. Meanwhile the depression will not lift. I am going to work out today at Curves and maybe that will help.

Day 3 - Truth

I ate everything in sight yesterday that did not contain flour or sugar. I wanted ice cream so bad... I just kept putting myself off. I thought, in another hour, if I still want it, I'll have it. After doing that about three times, the craving finally passed. I don't know if the 16 oz ribeye steak had anything to do with it or not. heh.

Something I am changing about myself right now is the ability to keep meticulous records. I now have a food journal, here on my computer, where I log what and when I ate, and how I was feeling emotionally and physically when I ate it. The point of the journal is not to "get the goods" on myself so that I can start calling me names. I have to work hard to remember that! The point of the journal is recording data, like in a science experiment. I can't look for patterns if I don't have the data. I have tried many times to keep a food journal, but this time may be different... the past few days,when I have felt bad about what I ate, I reminded myself of the purpose of the journal. Then I wrote what I ate and that I felt bad about it. Rather than being something shameful, which I guess is what I was expecting, it has turned out to be liberating. Being honest about my food feels good. Yesterday, it helped me be honest about other things.

We abhor in others what we can't stand about ourselves.

Yesterday I was writing a "Dear John" email to a man I had been seeing. This man is an independent contractor; he works for himself, and he does I.T. When a server crashes, he has to go fix it, no matter the time or day. Saturday, after not hearing from this man for days, I got a call from him saying he was on his way to fix a server and if it went well he would call me when he was done. I had quite the moment of clarity. Seeing me was a matter of convenience. He has a son, so this way he had an excuse to drop his son at the home of a family member. Then, he thought, if he could get the work done quickly, he could come to my house and nobody would be the wiser. Here's the thing - I am wiser. I realized the meaning of what was happening - seeing me was not a good enough reason to get a sitter, but work was; nor am I worthy of spending time around the child. Not only that, he has to make excuses in order to find time for me.

I could have chosen to ignore what I was seeing and feeling, be complacent, and allow him to treat me like "the other woman." I did allow him to come over, and I waited for an explanation. (I can't change everything at once.) When none was forthcoming, I gently excused him from my presence. Then I waited for an explanation (I know, I know) for a few days. Still nothing... that's when I found myself writing the Dear Julio letter.

We teach others how to treat us. I have been working on who and what I am, through the process of finding out who and what I am NOT. I am not a convenience. I am not a booty call. I AM a Goddess. And every time I am honest, truly honest, with myself and those around me, I honor myself and others. Every time I make a step in the direction of honesty, it is a victory for my soul. When my soul wins, so do my children's souls, and my sister's souls, and my mother's soul. Because I cannot have a true relationship with anyone unless I am true to myself.

I am officially letting go of my old idea that "self knowledge" means taking responsibility for things that aren't mine and then beating myself up with them. My new idea is that "self knowledge" means telling myself the truth, and then loving the truth. Loving me for telling the truth. Looking at it straight in the eye and then rejoicing because I can have it.

Day 2

According to Potatoes Not Prozac, I need 88 grams of protein a day right now. That will go down as I lose weight. Yesterday I just divided by 3 and tried to eat the same amount of protein at brakfast, lunch, and dinner. I have never eaten so much protein at breakfast, and a few hours later I had a whopper of a headache! But I didn't get hungry. Today I think I will go a little less at breakfast and a little more at dinner, and see how that works.
Other things I am focused on right now:
Eat 3 meals a day, at 7, 12, and 6.
Eat a good amount of protein at every meal.
No sugar or white flour.
Work out every other day at Curves.
Eat a starch before bed.
The starch before bed is supposed to help my body make and absorb my own serotonin and beta endorphins, which will relieve my withdrawal from the Effexor. We'll see if it works. I feel pretty good mentally today, much better than yesterday morning. I don't want to look at short term results because they seem unimportant, but the bottom line is if there are no short term results, I won't have any reason to find out what the long term results are.

Ch-ch-changes

The winds of change are in the air! Today I am going to join a gym. This is not something I was willing to even consider until now. What has changed? Well, quite simply, I am desperate. I can't stand the way I look or feel. I have never felt so fat, which is logical since I've never been so fat either. I am trying to wean myself off of my anti-anxiety medication. Now don't freak everyone, I am under my doctor's supervision. My psychiatrist said that if I wanted to try it, the summer after my first year teaching would be the first time she would be OK with it. Here's the thing... the medication changes my brain chemistry in order to allow serotonin and endorphins to be absorbed. That's why it works. When I take less of it, my levels of serotonin and endorphins go down and I feel yucky. Other ways to raise those levels include eating sugar and exercising. Guess which one I have been doing? Yup. Inhaling Krispy Kremes like they're going out of style. I simply cannot seem to motivate myself to exercise. The winds of change (this time around) have come in the form of a book called Potatoes Not Prozac. I can identify with a great many of the things this author says, and she has backed up her statements with research. Her numbers get a little fuzzy when it comes to the percentage of her clients who have sustained long term recovery, but at this point even some short term recovery would do me a world of good, I think. She places a lot of focus on keeping a mentality of "one choice at a time," saying that even one day at a time is much too long term for this kind of problem. I really hope that if I work out, I will be able to resist eating sugar. If I don't start to do better, I will have to give up the idea of going off the medication. And I really don't want to give that idea up just yet.

Yesterday I thought that I would relax. No kids, no work, no lesson plans to do. Instead I was stir crazy all day. I talked to another teacher and he says it's the end of the year let down. Makes sense when I think about it... anytime one invests a lot of time and energy looking forward to something, when that something actually happens, there is no way it can measure up. Kind of like Christmas. So today I'm just going to clean the house.

hey hey hey, goodbye

Well, I have survived my first year of teaching. I'm still sane, and I am still upright. The biggest deal is that I plan on teaching again next year. Saying goodbye to my principal yesterday was the best part of my day, without a doubt. He scheduled a staff meeting, on the last day of work, and kept us for an HOUR. He has such an inflated sense of his own importance, he thinks whatever he has to say is great enough that the rest of us want to hear it too. So, we sat in groups and wrote a list on chart-size post it notes about the successes of the school year. Then we had to listen to him make a speech to each person who was leaving the school. Seven people are leaving, and five of them are from the 6th grade. What is wrong with this picture?? Anyway, I got to leave after the schmooze fest and I never have to go back there again.
Hooray!!

Good Choices

Yesterday two of my students were in trouble for something or other, and were called up to the office. During my plan, I saw them up there and asked what was happening. They were both honest with me and it turns out to be a pretty serious thing, especially for sixth graders. I patted their shoulders, went back to my room, and promptly sat down for a cry. I didn't cry because of anything having to do with me or my teaching. I cried because these kids are worth so much more that what they are choosing to do. I cried because I can see them making the wrong choices, going headlong down the wrong path, and because it's their choice and I have to let them make it.
Sometimes I think, wait! I can't be in charge here, I am hardly a good decision maker! I was making those choices not too long ago. Maybe that's why I have finally found my place in life. I made it through in one piece, in spite of all my bad decisions, and maybe I have something to say to these kids that will make a difference. I struggle every day to do the right things. The difference in the past few years is that the right thing has been winning. My life has changed. I have changed.
If I can figure out a way to warn these kids in a way they will understand, in a way that will make a difference, it will all have been worth it.

Open mouth, insert foot

I did something horrible today at work and I feel shitty about it. I was at a yet another math teacher meeting in an endless chain of them during which we decide nothing but pretend we're doing something important. We say meaningful things like "When you look at the data..." and "Using formatives for that purpose is..." and "Are there any more bagels?..."
A big shot from the district office was there, and we were talking about whether or not to change the sequence in which we teach math. Test scores came up, and one of the test scores that was being discussed was from a test my youngest daughter took a few weeks ago. I had looked at her results, and they were poor. Since she is normally one of the highest scorers, I asked her about the test. She said there were things on there that she didn't recognize from anywhere, and that had never been taught. Her math teacher was also at the meeting, by the way. Someone brought up that the reason for the low test scores might be that the items they used to teach those concepts must not have matched the test. So I piped up with my little tidbit of information, not realizing until later what a huge asshole I must have sounded like! She probably thought I was saying she was doing a crappy job. So I sent her an email apologizing, to which she has not responded. I wish I could keep my goddamn mouth shut.

I'm not changing the world.

My 10th period class is an elective, meaning I can pretty much teach whatever I want as long as there is some educational value in there. The students rotate electives every nine weeks, so once the first quarter was over, I just recycled the lesson plans. I chose to teach a cooking class. We take a recipe for cookies, brownies, or some other treat. We multiply the recipe so we make enough for everybody, and then we divide the recipe so that we can have each group mix up a bowl of whatever it is. They get a lot of conceptual fractions, and then when it's time to measure and mix, they get that experience too. I send out a letter at the beginning of each quarter, asking the parents if they would like to donate ingredients. I tell them it's OK if they don't want to. We'll just do fractions when we run out of stuff. They usually bring more than enough. I have the student mix and measure and make the dough or batter, and then I pack it up, take it home, and bake it on my own time. It's a lot of my own time and energy and sometimes money, but the students really enjoy it.
This quarter has been a little bit different. We had AIMS testing, my grandma died, I have been out of the classroom quite a bit for this meeting or that one. When we made chocolate chip cookies, I didn't have time to bake them... I stuck the dough in the freezer and told the kids they would get them when they got them. When I am going to be gone from the classroom, it throws a wrench into things because it takes 2 days to mix and measure the ingredients, and it has to be done 2 days in a row. Otherwise the ingredients are left sitting out, it goes bad and the stuff has to be thrown away.
Somebody complained about not getting the cookies. They didn't complain to me. They complained to the assistant principal, who then decided it would be a good idea to put a comment in my FORMAL EVALUATION saying that I wasn't following the curriculum for my 10th period class. Curriculum? Excuse me? I invented the curriculum. Nobody even wanted to see it. Neither administrator at my school, nor any other official, has bothered to come in and observe that class to see what we do. Nobody gave a rat's ass about that class until a parent complained. So the assistant principal wrote in my FORMAL EVALUATION that for nearly three weeks this quarter, I have not followed the curriculum. I am stunned. What actually happened is that I didn't get the cookies baked in a timely manner. Which is something I do on my own time, at night, outside of the school. How does that translate into not following the curriculum?
It's a good thing I joined the union.

An hour at a time

I am afraid to weigh myself. I think this is the fattest I have ever been! I have simply got to do something... I am desperate! I am thinking about getting over the counter appetite supressant. If that isn't desperate, tell me what is! This sugar addiction is insane. Every morning I think to myself, Ok, today is the day! I am not going to eat any sugar or flour today. Then I see something, like a cookie or piece of candy, and in spite of the fact that I really, REALLY don't want to do it, I grab it and shove it in my pie hole. My head starts aching and I feel really crappy when I haven't had any sugar. I'm not sure what to do about that. I think today I will try keeping fruit with me and eating some when I feel like I am about to go over the edge. And instead of thinking in terms of the entire day, I'll go an hour at a time and see how it goes.

Impeach him!

I haven't posted in quite some time. My grandmother died on Monday morning, and the week simply flew by. I had to redo my lesson plans so that a sub could take over for me on Thursday and Friday. I was terribly worried about my mom, although it turns out she did ok. My extended family came in from all over the place and there was just so much to be done. I have a lot of mixed feelings about all of it, but the only part that really matters is that it's over. My mom can have her life back, and my grandma is gone, and I don't have to feel one way or the other about any of it.
I have been thinking a lot about how much I love teaching and whether or not I will be able to do it for very long because of the parents and administrators. I hope that part of the job becomes less and less important, as I work to train myself to get my priorities straight. I have been trying to just take a deep breath whenever something happens that irritates me, like an email from a snotty parent or an unannounced visit from administration. Do those things have to affect my teaching? Of course not! But they will, unless I get a grip. So I am practicing letting the stuff go. Making a conscious decision to say, Self, you have no business getting upset about this piddly little thing. Just take care of it in a calm and professional matter, and then refuse to think about it further.
I just know I can get better at that! And then my job will be so much more enjoyable.
I really like most of my life now. I live in a house, a nice one, with enough money to pay for groceries and a decent car. It's still somewhat a meager existence, but like I tell my kids, this is the poorest we will be from now on. Every year from now on I will make a little more. And spend it. And so on. It's just nice to pay the bills without getting a stomachache. I love my house. I have been working on my parenting skills, and it shows in my children's behavior. Life is good! Now, I can focus my energy on being a good teacher and trying to get the president impeached.

It's a cabaret, old chum

Life is no picnic right now. It may be a cabaret, but it is certainly NOT a picnic. I know we all have ups and downs, roller coaster of life, yada yada and etc. My roller coaster goes any lower, and I will just refuse to get out of bed one of these days. The day can't start if I don't get up, right?
I just dread going to the closet to find something to wear. I quit drinking a few months ago, which took some doing, let me tell you. Something had to take the place of all those hops, and it turns out chocolate donuts are a pretty good replacement. Which is all fine and good, except that now none of my pants will go over my huge ass! My AA sponsor keeps saying ONE THING AT A TIME, and I agree, except that pretty soon I'll have to either buy new clothes or go to work naked, and believe me, none of us deserves that.
I've made two horrible discoveries over the weekend, the first being dulce de leche syrup from those wicked harpies at Hershey's. The second is karamel sutra from my two best friends, Ben and Jerry. How can I NOT eat a pint of this and wash it down with a quart of dulce de leche syrup? *sigh* I don't tend to wish misfortune on anyone, but I think I have a resentment building against whomever came up with those two things.
Which brings me to step four, another reason it sucks to be me right now. I take a fearless and thorough personal inventory, and actually write down everything that I am scared of, ashamed of, angry at, or is in my way of being a rational and productive human being. By the time I am finished, I will need to compile it alphabetically, like a volume of encyclopedia. I don't see how I will ever finish, as I do things daily that have to be added in, like telling one of my students that eventually somebody was going to kick his ass, and actually using those words. Then trying to apologize to the child's mother but coming off sounding more like she deserves a good ass kicking as well. Which she does. Where's my pen? I better add that.

Laugh of the Week

This letter of resignation is by far the best I have seen. You've simply got to read it.

What's on your IPod?

I like how my ipod mix is so eclectic, but this morning I was thinking how nice it would be to have a different ipod for every mood. I could color code them, so that when I wake up pissed off, like this morning, I could pick the red one and listen to music from Green Day and Alice in Chains. Then, when I felt like calming down, I could pick the blue one and listen to Ruth Brown and Mindy Smith. Or, if Apple was really cool, they would let me push a button on my ipod and tell it what kind of mood I was in. I could have a green button to say, "Hey, get the lead out, I'm going for a run" or pink for "I want girl voices and nothing else." I would need purple for "Don't even think about playing anything but Neil Diamond. I need a good cry." Wouldn't that be the shit?

But I'm changing the world, right?

Yesterday a couple of my 10th period students were passing around a picture, pointing at me and then the picture, and giggling. I was helping four students measure out flour for chocolate chip cookies (my 10th period is a cooking class) and dropped what I was doing to investigate. I confiscated the picture, and might have even thought it was funny if these particular students weren't making my life COMPLETELY MISERABLE! One of these students in particular is making me think I really don't want to be a teacher. In between rolling his eyes, calling me stupid, retarded, and whatever else comes to mind, and bullying the rest of the class, he manages to squeeze in calling me racist because he happens to be the only black kid in the class. I am a teacher, for christ sake, not a whipping post... his mother, of course, maintains that the problem must be me since I'm the one that keeps writing all the referrals.
I don't get paid enough to put up with this.

AIMS

Our state standardized test is coming up next week. Yesterday we had a staff meeting to prepare for administration of the test, which must be done according to a very specific set of rules. We had an entire packet of information to go over, which of course we only got halfway through because my principal is very cool in that he has staff meetings before school. That way they must end at a certain time. No group of people will sit there and waste time asking stupid questions that have already been answered ten times like teachers. Believe me. I have lived it.
One of the pieces of paper we had was a list of questions one may ask oneself to make sure ethical testing procedures are being followed. The list included questions like, "Am I using sample test questions because they cover the topic we are currently addressing, or is it only to prepare students for the test?" The list went on and on, and I got the impression that we weren't really supposed to be using all of the sample test questions, practice questions provided by the state, and all the other junk I was given, unless it was part of the lesson I had already planned.
Here is my problem: I have devoted several entire lessons to preparation for the test. I have a huge beef with people who complain about teachers who spend time preparing students for this test. If the state insists on using high stakes testing as a measure of student growth AND teacher competency, then nobody has any business telling me I cannot do everything in my power to make sure my students do well on that test.
The state looks at only one thing to decide whether or not I am doing my job as a math teacher: Test scores. The outcome of this one test determines what the state will think of me as a professional. The hours, blood, sweat, and tears I have spent teaching these little creatures to be human beings DO NOT COUNT. The only thing that counts is how they score on this test.
Does that mean I give up and teach them only things that will be on the test? Hell, no. For most of the year, I go about my days teaching them the things I think they need to know, based on my knowledge of their curriculum going forward in school. Basically, I prepare them to be 7th graders. But for about two weeks before the AIMS test, we do nothing but prepare for AIMS. I use everything I have been given. I use everything more than once. I drill the students. I make them repeat chants after me so that they will remember what to do when they get stuck.
I will give them gum and hard candy and juice and fruit during their breaks. I will have them write encouraging messages to each other in chalk on butcher paper covering the walls before the test. I will mother them and coddle them and believe in them. Because if the powers that be want to judge me on how my students perform on this one test, then what they really want is an assessment of how my students test. And that is what they shall have.

I so hate it when they fart...

I have a student who thinks he is a genius. His mother thinks he is not only a genius, but a faultless genius. He is so clever that he stole the teacher's manual and got his mother to believe it was an accident. He just cannot fathom why I insisted on punishing him. It happened a while back...
A few months ago, I was engaging in a friendly rivalry with another sixth grade teacher. Our classes were in competition to raise the most cans for the food drive before the holidays. Well, the other class won. Not to be outdone, I waited until his class was somewhere else, and then I took my class in his room and we stole the trophy. We left a note cut out of magazine letters that said, "Bring 27 chocolate bars to Ms. P's room if you want to see your trophy alive." Their response was to come in while we were gone and trash my room. They took the legs off of the desks, hid things, etc. We came back, and one of the things they had done was take all the math books out of the desks and put them in the cabinet. It was time for math, so I told the students to get a math book, once they had put their desk back together. In that same cabinet was an extra set of teacher's manuals. The teacher's manual comes in two volumes. This student siezed the opportunity, took one of the volumes and put it in his backpack. An accident, you say? No. The teacher's manual is at least 25% bigger than the student volume. Impossible to mistake for a regular book.
Fast forward a few months... This very clever student's mother found the teacher's manual in said student's room. She "threw the book into the garage," (?! the nut doesn't fall far from the tree) where according to her it remained for another month or so. Of course, the student wasn't using it or anything. One day last week, the student brought the book to the office after school. He told the office manager that he had been issued the book in the beginning of the year. Said office manager called me to tell me she had the book, and ask where he might have got it. She told the student to go home. I went to see if I had all of my copies, and sure enough, one of the books from the cabinet was missing. Things started to click into place... I have been arguing with this kid for months about not showing his work on his homework. I have been taking points away, begging, pleading for him to show his work. It all of a sudden makes sense!
The next day I talked to the assistant principal about how to handle the situation. He immediately called the student up and questioned him. The student eventually admitted to taking the book and said he used it for one homework assignment. Remember, he is a genius. Student ends up suspended for two and a half days, and mother writes me an email asking me to call her.
I called her, explained how and when he got the book, told her it could not have been an accident, and then told her about how I have been asking her kid to show his work. She was upset about the punishment, thought it was too severe, and said she thought going to the office and being interrogated was enough punishment. I said something along the lines of, "He stole that book out of my room. It isn't really about what he did with it. He took something that did not belong to him."
She said, and I quote, "I guess I just don't understand how him having that book translates into stealing school property."
I was literally stunned into silence for several moments. I told her that was where we disagreed, and I was not going to ask for the punishment to be reduced, which was what she wanted.
So, long story long, Friday was the kid's first day back to school, and I swear he must have been farting on purpose. I know it was him because of the look on his face. About the third time it happened, I took my "Lovespell" body spray that I keep in my desk for just such occasions, and sprayed it liberally around him and his desk. He stopped after that.
Using farts as revenge is just horribly fascinating to me.... the mentality that goes along with that is frightening. I mean, what does he think to himself? "I'll get her... I'll just fart in class and she won't know who did it, and she'll have to smell my farts and I won't get in trouble.'
Genius.