Fire on the mountain - run, boy, run!

Ok, so not on the mountain, but definitely in school today. Yeah, there was a fire in the girls' bathroom directly across the hall from my room during 3rd block today. We were at lunch, so the two halls that are joined by my corner of the school were completely empty. I was down the English hall lunching with friends, when we smelled smoke. We started sniffing around the room, thinking it was an electrical fire that started from all the computer terminals around. Nope. So I went out in the hall, only to be greeted with clouds of hazy, white smoke. I looked further down the hall and saw our principal, assistant principals, and security officer on the phone with the fire department.

After about 5-10 minutes, they finally pulled the fire alarm to evacuate the building. This was an interesting move, considering our monthly fire drills have never been conducted during the middle of lunch. The kids didn't know what to do, and the teachers didn't either. Surprisingly, everyone was calm, until students starting calling home with gossip, and parents came charging on the school (like that would help). So, nobody was allowed in the building while the firemen were there taking care of business. We waited outside for about half an hour, then went back to class.

Keep in mind, this was during lunch, and our school has a crazy lunch schedule. My class has 3rd lunch, which means an hour of class, then 25 minutes for lunch, then another half hour of class. Insane, I know. When we got back to the room, we had to proceed with the lunch schedule, meaning 4th lunch people had to go. Heaven forbid we throw in the towel and call it a day with the utter chaos of being thrown off schedule. It's illegal to send kids home without lunch, so off they went. In the mean time, my students were bitching and moaning that they had been in the lunch line when the alarm went off, meaning they weren't allowed to eat. So I'm trying to communicate with the administration, until they finally sent an assistant principal down to my room long enough to tell them, "I was in the cafeteria when the bell went off, and there was nobody in line. Either you ate, and you're lying, or you were in he cafeteria but not there to eat. I don't want to hear it." And he left, giving me the pleasure of clean up detail with the whiners.

Anyway, we finally made it to 4th block, starting about 20-25 minutes late. When I finally got my seniors situated, the fire inspector pulled me out of class for questioning, since my classroom is the closest to the crime scene. He asked if I knew any students or teachers who had been in the bathroom, and I said that I had been down the hall for lunch. I had students who had been in the bathroom earlier in the period, but they did not smell of smoke when they returned to class, leaving me to believe they had not been smoking cigarettes. Our students may be pretty stupid, but they usually flush their cigarettes, leaving only the stale stench of smoke lingering in the bathroom. This has built up for 30 years. It's a lovely aroma. Anyway, he gave me his card and asked me to call him if any students started talking. I asked if there were usually tattlers, and he replied that almost always happens. Incidentally, the school in our county that burned to the ground (while school was in session) this past fall still has no confessors or even suspects. I also asked if he was sure the job was arson, to which he replied, "Someone took a newspaper in the bathroom and lit it on fire. It's definitely arson." Lovely.

This afternoon, I took a look at the bathroom windows from the outside of the building, and one was definitely melted from the heat. I haven't been able to look at the bathroom from the inside yet, but apparently, it's mostly smoke damage. The entire school received a phone call this evening from our automated system explaining that the fire was contained with a fire extinguisher, but we had to evacuate to be completely safe, etc. So it wasn't as big as I thought, but it must've been somewhat sizeable if the smoke flooded two hallways. Needless to say, it's been a rather exciting day. I'll be interested to see if there will be any special announcements tomorrow morning. We have a faculty meeting tomorrow afteroon, so I'm sure this will be addressed.

The end.

A Review and Random Events

Last night I went to one of Greensboro's favorite hole-in-the-wall Italian joints, Giovanni's. The ladies and I waltzed in after a baseball game at school, in which one of my students hit one out of the park, and another hit a double, followed by stealing home (this is par for the course for these boys). Needless to say, we were leading 12-1 when we left in the 4th inning. Anyway, so Giovanni's. I have heard a lot about this place as a good singles' kind of hang out. The atmosphere is nice, and mirrors along the back wall make the restaurant look freakin' huge. We took one look at the menu and nearly walked out because the price was outrageously expensive. We're talking like $30 for an ordinary Italian entre. So we found the $12 basic pasta dishes and found something palatable on there. However, the Penne Rustica listed traditional and not-so-traditional ingredients, namely placenta. Yes, placenta. I couldn't let this go and asked the waitress if my eyes were deceiving me. Somehow, it was supposed to be "piccata." Not sure how the typo got that out of control.

Anyway, the service at this place was terrible. Our waitress never came by to refill our glasses or ask if we wanted bread while we were waiting; meanwhile, a group of people who got seated 20 minutes after us got bread. Not sure how that works. The dipping sauce for the bread (when we finally got it) was a hodgepodge - all on one plate. They had oil, balsamic vinegar, garlic, herbs, and parmesan cheese all globbed together. It was neither pretty nor conducive to dipping. We got our meals a few minutes after we got our bread. And they were just ok - nothing special or unique at all. And my salad and antipasta came out with the meal. The waitress said, "I brought them out with the meal because I figured you didn't want to eat while the others didn't have anything." I wanted to say, "Why don't you let me be the judge of that?" One of my friends was charged $2 extra than what the menu said her meal should cost, and another friend paid $8 for an ordinary piece of chocolate cake. We were all nonplussed by the entire experience. As we were leaving, one of the managers asked us if we enjoyed the food, to which I replied, "It was alright." "Just alright?" "Yes, just alright." And we left.

In other news, I spent a rather productive afternoon grading at Holly's in Bur-vegas. On the way home, I had a little flirting game with a car-full of rather good-looking guys (who started it, by the way). They waved at me, and I waved back. Then they smiled and stared, and I laughed. The next time they passed me, the guys on the right side of the car flexed their muscles for me. I was rolling. I love it when people make asses out of themselves for a little flirtation.

When I got home, I heard fire truck sirens behind me as I pulled into a parking space. The fire truck zoomed around the corner and promptly hooked up to a hydrant, while another truck pulled up from a different direction. There are no buildings aflame, to the best of my curious-bystander knowledge, but I saw some smoke coming from the woods, which completely surround us. I don't think it should be too hard to handle, especially since we've had so much rain lately. Will let you know if my place burns down.

Feels Like Home

Look what I found while driving home this evening! Seriously, this is about 10 minutes around the corner from me. It's a cute little quiet spot in the middle of a nice neighborhood in Greensboro. Had no idea there were places like this around.

I'm really getting settled around here. Greensboro is a rather poorly planned city like Starkville, only on a Jackson-size level. Ok, it's not as big as Jackson, but it's much, much bigger than the Star-patch. Anyway, I've been learning a few of the backroads and how to avoid traffic in certain areas, and I'm really starting to feel more like a local. And I like that. I'm even addicted to the local news (only I prefer the Winston-Salem station to the Greensboro one) and watch it every morning at 6:30 and just about every evening at 10.

Life is pretty good. I painted my apartment (Glidden's purple foxglove - don't go by the online version because it's a lot more purple than blue), and I'm pondering a career change. Me? Fickle? Noooo. But yeah, I'm really, really, really considering culinary school. There's a pretty good program at the local community college. I've wanted to go to culinary school for a long time, and I love nothing better than throwing a party and feeding people. Still in the pondering stages, though.