Created as a daily update of my time volunteering in Belfast, Northern Ireland with pages from other trips to Ireland and England. Now a journal of my travels through life.
It is a
beautiful day to be off of work. We have today off. I don’t know exactly why.
It is Veteran’s Day, but I don’t think that’s why we have it off. I heard it
has more to do with the Florida school calendar and this being the end of their
quarter (our corporation is based in Florida). I don’t really care why, I’m
just happy to have the day off. I can’t wait until those glorious two weeks of
Christmas vacation. The neighboring school district had two weeks off for fall
break. We had two days. I was inputting all the days off in my calendar and
noticed that in the spring semester there is a LONG stretch of time where there
are no days off at all. I’m trying not to think about that and trying to focus
on the positive. Today I have a day off. Today is a good day.
Thinking back
and remembering what has been the most relaxing day of the school year thus far
was actually the day after I left school in an ambulance. I knew that I had to
take it very, very easy, so I stayed in bed all day and read an entire book. It
made a world of difference reading a book versus being on the computer. Much
more relaxing, the book.
Speaking of
the ambulance; I am still waiting to see the neurologist. I saw my primary care
physician who referred me to that specialist. The PCP thinks it could be spinal
fluid leaking putting pressure in my skull. The neurologist will order an MRI
and that will be able to tell. In the meantime, I have some strong headache
medicine which is controlling the pain, if I take it by a certain time of day.
It has some side effects that aren’t so pleasant, but I’m just trying to grin
and bear it until I get in to see neurology. I am just thankful the pain is
gone.
Seeing the
positive, that’s what I’m trying to do!
Yesterday I left school in an ambulance because I thought I was having a diabetic stroke of some kind. I saw prisms and was slurring my speech and dizzy. Turns out it was a migraine. I stayed home today and did not leave the house. I read an entire book. I would love to stay home again tomorrow but it is the last week of the quarter and I need to make sure my kids get the grades they deserve. Funny how the most stressful week is the one you get the migraine??? Coincidence? I think not. I just can't wait until the summer break and hope to be poolside with a frozen cocktail being served to me.
Was an hour late to my evening class today. Comedy of errors led to this but had to eat and get my rent paid. TGI(A)F. (Thank God it's almost Friday). We had a corporate visit at school today. When one of the leaders said, "There's no tired like first month of teaching tired" I felt validated. Glad to hear I'm not the only one. Moms have it rougher, and maybe one day I'll experience that. But for now, this is as tired as I've ever felt.
Last week, I was sitting in my master's level class with a group of professionals and when the teacher said the name of a diagnostic test was "Woodcock Johnson" some of us just burst into laughter. We are all really 12 year olds inside, I think.
I have never seen so many "Toms" shoes before working at my school. They are worn by the teachers, who are young, not long out of college. I think they are kind of ugly. But now I see them at the university with the other teachers and suddenly they start growing on me. I buy a pair of shoes from the clearance rack that look like Toms because now I suddenly like that style. Totally reminds me of when I was in 6th grade and everyone wore those god awful brown boat shoes. They would twirl the laces on the side to make them stick out instead of tying them. I thought they were hideous. Seriously. I couldn't imagine how anyone could ever wear them. But then they did. Every girl started getting these hideous shoes and doing that ridiculous knot. Suddenly I wanted a pair of these shoes. In one of my 8th grade classrooms today, one of the students let out a very silent but deadly fart. The kids fell over themselves trying to get away from the smell. At first I shook my head at their dramatic exit then I got a whiff and I quickly went to the other side of the room, trying not to inhale while laughing hysterically. The more things change, the more they stay the same.
Someone told me to look up this song and listen...
Same bed, but it feels just a little bit bigger now Our song on the radio, but it don't sound the same When our friends talk about you all that it does is just tear me down Cause my heart breaks a little when I hear your name
Hmmm too young, too dumb to realize That I should have bought you flowers and held your hand Should have gave you all my hours when I had the chance Take you to every party cause all you wanted to do was dance Now my baby is dancing, but she's dancing with another man.
My pride, my ego, my needs and my selfish ways Caused a good strong woman like you to walk out my life Now I never, never get to clean up the mess I made And it haunts me every time I close my eyes
Although it hurts I'll be the first to say that I was wrong Oh, I know I'm probably much too late To try and apologize for my mistakes But I just want you to know I hope he buys you flowers, I hope he holds your hand Give you all his hours when he has the chance Take you to every party cause I remember how much you loved to dance Do all the things I should have done when I was your man!
The head of the special education department (aka special ed, or sped) said we should have a "party" this weekend to enter IEPs into the computer system.
Woohoo.
Okay, if you want me to come in on a weekend, let's just be real about it. It's not a party. It's 10 am on a Sunday morning at school sitting in front of a computer entering data from papers in folders.
Being a special education teacher is so much more than just the work with the children. There is a vast amount of paperwork and law involved. Deadlines are always looming and you are always careful of communicating information to anyone. Not just the usual privacy, but how you do it. Don't send emails. Document not only phone calls, but attempts to call. Always document.
I had a pizza party for one of my classes on Friday. I also comforted two crying kids in two different classes. Middle school: always drama.
Now if you'll excuse me, I have to rest up for my sped party tomorrow. Where's my party hat?
This weekend I went to a fourth birthday party. To avoid having to describe the complex exact relationship, let's just say it was a friend of a friend. There were about thirty people at the party when I arrived, and there had been more who had come and gone before and since. Each of these people brought at least one gift for the birthday child. Including the vast multitude of gifts from the parents and grandparents, there were easily fifty-sixty presents. Fifty presents. For one child. One four year old child. In addition, though, they have two other children, and they both received a few gifts. One more than the other, because this poor child didn't have a birthday party (the horror) and this was kind of sort of their party as well. So what we can deduce from this (and what I actually learned from speaking with the parents) is that they not only have a birthday party every year for this child, but they also have one every year for the other kids as well. That's three birthday parties a year. Fifty presents per child (which is a conservative estimate) comes to 150 presents a year for this household. That's for birthdays. Christmas is a whole other story. I would estimate about twenty gifts per child (again, conservative estimate) for Christmas. So about 200 gifts (mainly toys) in this household per year. But wait, there's more! Do you think they only get toys at birthdays and Christmas? Not likely. I can't even fathom how many that comes to, so I'll just stick with the number 200.
As the child opened the presents, and I glanced at the overflowing present table, all I could think was, "Where are they going to put all of this?" They have a modest home, and with three children it is already bursting at the seams. Then I started to think of the money that went into those gifts. While I got mine for less than $1 thanks to clearance sales and coupons (and already had in the house), most people spent at least $20. The amount of money spent on the gifts could have paid for books for college one year.
The party itself is another expense. It was by no means extravagant. It was a very simple barbecue in a family member's backyard. They even got great discounts on the meat from a friend who works for the company. However, they still had to pay for that, mountains of beverages, side dishes, paper plates, napkins, plastic cutlery, tablecloths, etc. That is all money they paid out of pocket to have this party. One party goer suggested that they have a play date at a local children's place and the parent replied, "I don't know if I'll have the money after this." Clearly, this was an expense that put a marked dent into their budget.
Meanwhile, they get a call from the local police department that one of their dogs has escaped. In this extreme heat, they had accidentally left their animals outside. That, and a roaming dog is enough to get you in trouble with animal control, but the police officer was concerned about the look of the animal. Mind you, this is a police officer, not an animal control officer. Just by looking at the dog, he could tell that it wasn't healthy. He even took pictures of the dog to give to animal control for investigation when the office opened Monday. That was even before the officer knew that neither of the animals have had their shots in at least three years!
So, you mean to tell me that you can't afford rabies shots, but you can afford three birthday parties a year?
(Or this year, two birthday parties.)
You might suggest that the birthday party is a way for them to get gifts, so really it's an investment. They get more than they put in. I can see that theory. However, before the party, this child had more than enough toys and probably even clothes as well. What she got were a lot of dolls that I'm not sure she can tell the difference between. Puzzles too old for her. Many things that will remain unopened for a year to come.
What she is doing is (possibly) starting preschool next month. She could have probably used school supplies. Even then, knowing the mother, she probably would still buy the things she wanted and not used what others bought, though.
I struggle with these issues with my niece, who is also four years old. I want to buy her every cute thing I see, but she already has more than what she could ever use or play with. One friend of my parents buys her savings bonds for each birthday. That is a good idea. We should all consider this for children, especially the children who don't have any immediate needs for necessities. The craptastic toys we buy now will not be around when they are applying to college, or need a new uniform or braces or book rental. It is just so much wiser.
Today I was driving through Indiana, and I was listening to country music. I don't normally listen to country music, but occasionally on my cross-Indiana drives, I like to, because it seems appropriate. Also, because I have my radio on scan and there are a lot of country music stations in Indiana.
My radio is scanning away and I quickly hit seek to go back to that previous station. Something was intriguing about that country song.
He wanted to have a beer with Jesus.
Of course he did.
This made me think of a story my Mom told me the other day of a tiff in a store. Two women were arguing over something their children did and one mother said to the other, "You need to get Jesus in your life!" When the arguing continued, the first mother reiterated the point with blasphemic emphasis, "I'm serious you need to fucking get Jesus in your god damned life!"
~ Scene. ~
And then I came across this gem at Payless Shoe Source (b/c I'm just classy like that).
Nothing says "Turn the other cheek" like cross brass knuckles.
Edited to add this video, which isn't blatantly blasphemous, but definitely hilarious.
*Disclaimer - I am Christian. Doesn't mean I can't appreciate irony.
http://chrisbrecheen.blogspot.com.au/2013/07/changing-creepy-guy-narrative.html?m=1 Okay, this is one of the reasons why I like to stay fat. Seriously. After being raped, I didn't want people to notice me and not in that "I need to bone you right now" kind of way, but even like this. So annoying. (Especially black men in Chicago. Seriously dude. Stop.) Kudos to this dude. So funny.
Ten minutes before my birthday, time to cram in some self reflection.
This year, I was 35 years old.
I was a bit shocked by the number 35 because, well, it's not early thirties anymore. This is bona fide thirties. And it just sounds so... old. In just a few short minutes, I will be 36.
Holy crap.
But before I go on about the age, let me reflect on this last year.
On my birthday last year, I was cat sitting in Chicago, which is what I'm doing this year. I met up with Donna for Starbucks and later, dinner at the Himalayan restaurant. Unfortunately, this year Donna is up at the lake house so I didn't get to see her. I did see my cousins Teresa and Tricia, though, and my college friend, Nikki.
The most significant part of this year actually just happened last month. I completed teacher training. It was hard. It was difficult to get into and even more difficult to complete, but it was amazing. For the first time in a long time, I don't feel lost. I'm not struggling with figuring out what I want to do in life, where I want to live. I know that teaching is a career for me. Whether I end up in Indianapolis or in Northwest Indiana, I will have my own place to live and my own life. That is huge. I moved back in with my parents five years ago, now. That is way too long. That is the longest I've lived with them since moving out for college.
My parents have been a tremendous help, too. Not only with giving me a place to live, but also with helping me secure this position. I needed money to pay off my private loans to get my transcripts and Dad gave it to me. I needed a co-signer for the car loan, and Mom did it. They financially supported me during my training.
I am very fortunate.
I look forward to this next year of my life - this year of being 36. Of being a teacher. Of actually having a life in Indiana instead of waiting for life to happen elsewhere.
And it's midnight. I'm 36. Let's do this, 36 year old, Sabrina! You got this!
So I recently met up with an old sex...er, I mean ex. I was a bit nervous because...I'm not sure how to sufficiently put it into words. Part of it was I afraid I would no longer measure up to his standards. Part of it was I wasn't sure if he would measure up to my standards. And part of it was I wasn't sure if this was going to lead to sex.
Thankfully, there was alcohol. Oh, alcohol! The libation - my salvation. Okay, not really. It's just the lubricant needed for such awkward encounters. Lubricant...
Speaking of which...
As we were lying in bed after the obligatory, "how you doing" bang, apropos of nothing, I said, "Remember when we were a couple?"
"Yeah", he replied.
"That was hilarious", I chuckled. And then we both burst into laughter.
I wish I had some life lesson to share here. Some take away from the experience. But I really don't. I think a little part of me was afraid that if I saw him, hugged him, fucked him, that I would rekindle the feelings I once had. That was not the case, and that is a GOOD THING! Part of me thought I was too old to have sex without a relationship anymore. That was not the case, and I guess that is a GOOD THING, too. I made all sorts of assumptions about myself based on a.) one bad experience in the recent past and b.) based on my new age. I guess I did have some lesson. You know what happens when you assume, right? You make an ASS out of u & me. There you have it, folks. Life lesson. No charge, it's a gift.
I haven't been able to post because I've been extremely busy. But to sum up:
1.) I'm in a new city
2.) I have a new car
3.) I have a new career
4.) I started a new school
I am teaching 12th grade English at a high school in Indianapolis, about three hours away from where I was living. I am also gaining credit for my master's degree. This is through a program developed for people who have degrees in something other than teaching. They teach you to be a highly effective teacher, to try and close the achievement gap in high needs schools. The program is very intensive, and I am working about 60-70 hours a week right now. After a particularly challenging end to the week Friday, I went out for drinks both Friday and Saturday. Friday, my colleague drove my car home for me. Two Cheeseburger in Paradise cocktails made me a little tingly (I literally felt tingly).
It is now just past 1:00 am and I finished one of my lesson plans for tomorrow. I have to be at school at 7:30 a.m. so for now, I bid you adieu.
I had an amazing time Monday night with Jenn at a concert in Chicago. Even though it was a 'school night' for her, she met me there and we had a blast. It's so nice to actually do something fun for a change! It's like I don't even know what I actually enjoy doing anymore. I know I like doing things with my niece. The kid's stuff like going to the park or whatever. But what do I personally like to do? No idea. I don't even know what brings me joy.
Well, I can say that Monday was fricking awesome! At the end, I just looked at Jenn, and said, "Holy shit! That was awesome!" That is a feeling I haven't had in a looooooong time.
I was a little scared to go because I had to drive my hooptie thirty miles or so to the venue. I also barely had enough money to pay for the night. But once Jenn agreed to go, it was on like Donkey Kong.
It was an intimate setting. A small club. Everyone was so enthusiastic and into the music. It was great. Beforehand, I was up front waiting for Jenn and I asked the bartender a few questions and I thought for sure he could tell I was homebody from a mile away. But it dawned on me that perhaps the only person who thought that was me. When Jenn came in, she had no more knowledge into anything than I did. Why did I think I was so ignorant? It is all in my head. I am in my head. Too much. Too often. Too negatively.
Later in the night, though, "I don't want to think about it, I just want to get down!"
I was just tidying up the kitchen, thinking the random thoughts that run through my head and I had a total revelation. Okay, maybe not SO random thoughts. Since everyone now has a Facebook someone that you haven't spoken with in say, twenty years, pops up and you may be intrigued. In this case, I was terrified. I quickly blocked the person, all of their family, changed my screen name and went into full on ninja mode. This is the person who raped me all those years ago. I haven't had any contact with him since the actual attack. Now, this wasn't just a random stranger whose history I didn't know. This was a friend. An ex-boyfriend to be precise. He was a bad boy and I was his angel.
Instead of starting at where we met, I'll fast forward to the day of the attack. I had been volunteering for the Humane Society (angel) and then started cataloging the songs on my radio recorded cassette tapes (nerd), when my friend from across the alley called me to see if I wanted to hang out. I asked who all would be there and she said her stepbrother, Cliff and his friend, bad boy. I declined, because I didn't want to be in close proximity with bad boy. Since our relationship had ended, he had taken the bad boy-ness up a notch or two. All the way to the big house. If I recall correctly, we hung up, I went back to cataloging my cassettes and she called again later. She was going bowling. I believe there may have been a guilt trip involved somehow. Maybe she didn't want to be with bad boy alone? Maybe she said I was overreacting about avoiding bad boy (more likely). I don't know. Either way, I give in and go to the bowling alley. Bad boy is there on a pay phone (archaic). I decide to get this shit out of the way ASAP and walk right up to him. I stop short and he is surprised to see me. I've got walls up as high and as strong as Fort Knox and he senses it.
Fast forward again, because frankly, I don't remember a lot, or actually anything else about the bowling alley. Somehow we are alone on a walk and I am asking him point blank about jail and his court case and what he did and if he did drugs and I think I am just so hard core because I'm showing him I know what he's about and I'm not falling for his shit. He seems beguiled, maybe. He tells me about it and then things start to turn. I should note here, that since this time, I've checked the court records and it was only two days prior (as in what would have been, "the day before yesterday") that he was in court. Here's where the angel part comes in again.
He says he has changed his ways. This experience (jail) has shown him the error of his ways. He no longer does drugs. He doesn't live a life of crime anymore. He is good now. He is worthy of me now, his angel.
My saviour mode goes into overdrive and now I want to help make him an angel, too. And not in the way I had tried before by ripping up his cigarettes. In a much, much bigger way. This wasn't about stopping smoking, this was about a changed soul.
I got the teaching job! Now my brothers are calling me "teach" and asking if it is going to be like the movie, Dangerous Minds.
I will be teaching at a high need school in the inner city. Training starts in June. There is still a ton more I need to do before training, like testing and what not. I will also be taking classes at night for my master's degree, which is part of the program. I am super excited, overwhelmed and a little nervous.
If I received a certain score on my high school SATs, I would be exempt from certain tests. Considering it has been seventeen years since then, I went and got a copy of the results and I am just shy of the score needed. D'oh. The tests cost over $100, which is not an amount of money I have handy right now. You could apply for waivers, but you had to apply before February. I didn't get accepted into the program until March. D'oh.
Amazing some times how seemingly little things can just throw a wrench in your plans. Just have to keep moving forward. And in the mean time, be excited about getting into this fellowship program, woo!
This weekend was the 19th anniversary of my becoming a vegetarian. As I mentioned before, I have now been a vegetarian longer than I was a meat eater. The short story of why I became a vegetarian is this:
I couldn't disassociate the animal from the food. I wasn't fifteen, despite my posting the Taylor Swift song, but not far off - sixteen.
As I watched the Taylor Swift video, she talks about being fifteen when starting high school. I was fourteen then. And it occurred to me that there were a lot of things I did earlier than most. Not just because of where my birthday landed, but because I was just an old soul, I think. I grew up very fast. I was helping my mom with my brothers before I was even in kindergarten. So I try and give myself slack about my life now, thinking that I was an early bloomer in childhood and adolescence, so maybe I'm a late bloomer in adulthood. Marriage, children and career will come my way one day. I hope.
I also just uploaded some images to my elementary school facebook group from what would have been my 8th grade yearbook. I had already moved by then and no longer attended that school, but I got the yearbook from the school this summer, along with all the years I attended. As I looked at the teased hair and old computers, I thought about how my life would have been different had we stayed in Chicago. My mom always talked about how I would have had to take two CTA buses to high school instead of the short walk I had here, but I never really thought about what else might be different. I guess if it crossed my mind, I always thought about crime and somehow getting involved in the crime in Chicago. Interestingly, it was in the suburbs that I was raped. Since it was someone I knew, that could have happened anywhere. It can happen anywhere, regardless, really.
Aside from the rape, though, I think of Mike. I think of meeting him the summer before eighth grade. I was thinking how at the time my former classmates were smiling in those yearbook photos, I was neck deep in a romantic relationship way beyond my years. Though they seemed "older" to me because they were 'graduating' (it was a K-8 school), and I was merely in the 'middle' of a 6-12 school, my life belied my grade. Or maybe reflected it since the person I was dating did attend the same school, though that's not where we met. However, it did seem to make it more acceptable, despite the age difference. The next year when I was a freshman, he was a senior. I guess that's part of the reason this Taylor Swift song appealed to me (she mentions senior guys).
So, my freshman year was the only year we were actually like classmates. Before that, I was on the other side of the building, and my class times were all different, so I never saw him during school hours, though I did leave him notes in his locker. So freshman year, we saw each other between classes, he kept some stuff in my locker (which is like the high school equivalent of moving in, lol) and even kissed before class. My grades that year were horrible. Like failing. Clearly I had a bad, bad case of love brain. Nothing else seemed important to my freshman self. He graduated and the next year I started without him there. My grades did a complete 180. My counselor even wrote me a note to compliment me on the turnaround and encourage me to keep it up (our school counselors never did things like that). I was on cheerleading, performance choir and the school musical. After school, I had cheerleading practice and then went straight to rehearsal. I didn't get home until after 9:00 pm. Most nights he was at my house waiting for me. I still had to do my chores and homework. I still managed to do it all. Then he started complaining about my appearance, since I was in my cheerleading practice clothes and my hair and make-up for the day was long destroyed. I was indignant and knew he was wrong, which is why this Hinder video reminds me of that.
Still, somehow that year was our best year. Or maybe it was just the most emotional. For Christmas he bought me the diamond and sapphire ring that I still have. It was the pinnacle of my romantic life. Within a year, two weeks after turning sixteen, I was attacked. Our relationship was soon over. I was not the strong person depicted in the Hinder video. I was a complete mess. My grades or school activities didn't show it, but my heart and head definitely did. Like the video, though, I ended up with a completely new set of friends who were much more positive influences.
Amazing the things you go through in your teens. And the emotions you feel. The sensitivity. Sometimes you look back and think of how good it was, but don't remember the distress in your head.
I even wonder about how things might have been had my parents chose a different house. My mom will often point to a house down the street and say they almost bought that one. Or that they should've bought that one. Even though it's a block away, for a kid, that can mean a whole different set of friends. I met Mike because of our mutual friends who lived on the same block. My friend lived behind the alley from me. She knew his friend, who lived on the same street. She then met Mike, who also lived on the same street. Had I been on a different block, there would have been a different alley, a different house behind it and a different friend who lived there. How would my life have been different? I don't know. It's one of those things you wish you could see, but without changing anything. Just like watch it on a movie screen.
Which brings me back to the movie, Sliding Doors. I finally watched it. It is interesting. Without giving out too much of a spoiler, while watching it, you think that one life is better, but then you see that it's clearly not. The outcome is far worse.
So, I don't wish things were different. Not about my past. I can't. Remember, the past doesn't exist anymore. But mostly because I am still here! I still have the opportunity to make choices and live my life. There's no guarantee that any of the alternative realities would have allowed that to happen. I need to be thankful for that. Who knows, maybe this is the one I would have enthusiastically chosen if given the choice of all the different options. I can choose my next step, now. I guess I should choose wisely.
One of my fb friends posted something tonight that reminded me of this 'classic' video from 2007. (NSFW/Children/Homophobes)
Recently, I showed this video to my brother, who amazingly hadn't yet seen it. He was super annoyed by it and couldn't believe how long it was (that's what she said). It's about three and a half minutes long. He said it shouldn't be longer than thirty seconds. Now that I think about it, I don't think this video would have gotten as many hits had it come out now versus 2007. I mean, it's still getting tons of hits, but now the internet has much shorter attention spans. I was watching a funny cat/dog video today that was 30 seconds long and I fast forwarded to the end when I watched it again. Twitter limits posts to 140 characters. Not words - characters. I don't even know if that includes hash tags or links. If so, then that really limits the actual message. Anything longer on any type of social media, internet, etc. get a TLDR (too long; didn't read)
I actually had that reaction from some people back in 2009 with the lamebook post, "Jason's Monster Fail". The image itself is long for some attention spans, but when the comments (now removed, since the post was removed from lamebook) reached in the hundreds, and became part of the drama, even Ronan said he got bored reading it. Others wrote they had spent hours reading it! When one my former high school classmates saw it and I asked him what he thought, he said, "There's too many words." (More about the lamebook fiasco). And here.
And it wasn't just me trying to show them something, "funny". It was about MY LIFE! On display in a viral way. But it was TL;DR. (Mind you, Ronan found it on his own and emailed me about it. He thought it was about Belfast Jason (his 'nemesis') but still got bored!)
But there was show on Comedy Central called, Short Attention Span Theater, that I loved! It showed comedy clips instead of a comedian's whole set, or instead of whole episode of something. That was long before youtube or twitter! I guess I had the Short Attention Span before it was cool? And now that I'm old, I'm shaking my old lady stick at it. Maybe.
Fuming mad/sad right now. Just got a notice my health insurance will discontinue because I didn't verify income. I faxed my tax return (which I did a month early for this) before the deadline, printed a confirmation and called to confirm it was received. I just called to find out what the deal was and apparently they didn't just need the 1040, the needed all the worksheets and schedules to go with it. Instead of asking me for it, they discontinued my benefits. I am appealing, but I don't know if it will do any good. Still haven't heard anything about either job I interviewed for and getting VERY discouraged. As long as I had my health insurance, I was okay, but now...Now I am scared.
