New Year's Resolutions....

yet another year has come and gone. this has definitely been a year of eye-opening experiences. of course, as the old year comes to an end, we all look back over what we've done or wish we had done and make big plans to make it all better in the new year. but do we really? every year i say i am going to change so much within myself and blah, blah, blah....yet at the end of the year, i look back and realize i haven't made any real changes at all. i am still sitting in the same place that i was three years ago. no matter how much i want to hope things are going to change and this year is going to be that year, it is often so much easier said than done. so how does one actually make those new year resolutions reality? how do you make yourself go to the gym everyday instead of doing it hard for the first few months of the year before slowly allowing the excuses for not going overpower the reasons for going? how do you allow yourself to take that huge leap of faith that if you do make those changes, everything will work out the way it should? i guess when you have no other choice. i know this year is going to be different...because it has to be. changes can only be made if you really want them. i have had way too many years full of regret and disappointment....and way too many years full of tears and heartache. it's hard to move forward when you are constantly going backwards. i am ready to move forward. i am willing to throw myself completely on faith and know that God alone has a plan for my life...a plan greater than anything i could put in place for myself. i have allowed fear to guide me for way too long. it is time to move forward...for my sake, as well as malachi's.

i am not one for regrets. i made these choices, so i feel like i should live with them. but lately i find myself wondering what would have happened if i had taken the other road...almost wishing i would have. what if i had gone with my initial thought and walked out of the bookstore instead of through it? i would have never met ochea or be sitting here wondering what would have happened if i had gone down the other road. i wouldn't be broke or bitter or hoping for more. i wouldn't have to put my life on hold because i have a partner who is so wrapped up in his own. 

i'm tired. tired of trying to do the right thing. tired of getting the short end of the stick. tired of settling when i know i deserve more. i've spent the majority of my life settling for and putting up with a whole lot of shit i shouldn't have. 

i have become everything i never want to be. i have allowed myself to love too much...give too much...and be too much to people who never deserved any of me. now i am the one left with nothing, while they go on with their new lives and loves. i never was one to want bad things to happen to people. i have always tried to be a good, loving person, which, let's face it, is why i am in the situations i am in. whether i truly was in love with someone or not, i tried to make them feel like they were everything to me. in essence, this made me lose more and more of myself. the piscean in me doesn't allow me to be the person i truly sometimes wish i could be.

Again...

i recently watched "Why Did I Get Married" by tyler perry. now, i have never been a big tyler perry fan, mainly because i am not such a huge fan of his house of paine television show. but i heard the movie was worth watching, so i decided to give it a swirl. i was presently surprised...and intrigued. in the movie, seven married couples go on a retreat to work on their relationships. each marriage was full of lies or cheating or a combination of both. for one couple in particular, the situation really hit home. the man was cheating on his wife because she was no longer physically what he craved. even though he wasn't perfect himself, he chose to step out with someone he found to be more attractive...even though she had absolutely nothing to offer him except sex. his wife was supportive and loving and loyal...did any and everything he wanted, even though he treated her like shit. now, my case isn't quite that severe, but it has some similarity.

the definition of insanity...

looking back on my life these past few years, there are definitely things i am totally ecstatic about, as well as some i actually regret. i never thought i would be a mother. i was with ryan for ten years and it never even "accidentally" happened. so of course, i figured i was just one of those women who would never be able to experience the joys and aches of being a parent. but here i am at thirty with the most precious son in the world. not to sound cliche, but i honestly can't remember what my life was like before he arrived. i look at him and know my life has purpose. he is my joy. my happiness. after having him, i realized i had been searching for happiness in all the wrong things. getting higher degrees have only left me with a lot of debt. friendships come and go. men...well, men have proven to be more of heartache than they are worth. but my son, he is what i look forward to seeing every morning when i wake up. when my life feels lonely and full of despair, he is the one i think of to make my heart fill with joy. he makes me want to be a better me, so i can see him learn and grow. he truly completes me. i used to think it was ryan or ochea...but they were just people who contributed to my life. after being with ochea for two years, he cheated on me with someone he only knew for three days. after the whole thing went down, he told me that he was in love with her. in love with someone he only knew for a minute and he couldn't live without either of us. of course being the first class snoop i am, i found out who this chick was and what she looked like. i guess in my head, i wanted her to be this grand and wonderful looking being. someone who was prettier and smarter and had more to offer than i. but all i found was disappointment. she wasn't prettier or smarter or anything more than i. she was just some girl who was just like him...nothing. my sister made the point of reminding me that when ochea and i first met, he thought he was in love with me after talking to me for only a month. of course, i knew this was bullshit, but because of how it happened, i thought that maybe it was possible. maybe this was the man i was actually supposed to be with for the rest of my life. but nothing is ever what it seems. he wants someone who is more physical compatible and makes him forget about his responsibilities and accepts his flaws effortlessly. that is easy to do when you don't know someone. it doesn't matter who has stood by you through all the shit. who has stood by you when you have gotten fired from every job you have had. who has stood by you every time you went to jail over something you could have settled a long time ago. who has stood by you when you were so depressed that you tried to end it all...over and over again. who has tried to show you your potential even when she should have let you find it on your own. who stands by waiting for you to be the man i hope...no, knows....my son will grow to become, with or without you. but because you had fun with her and she lets you deal with stuff in your own way, she is your soulmate? just like me before her and tracy before me and e'lisha before her and denise before her....i do know what i have to do. life is too short for me to worry about things i cannot change (GRANT ME THE WISDOM TO KNOW THE DIFFERENCE). i can only have the COURAGE to change what i can, which is me. the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again expecting different results. i gave and gave to ryan, thinking he would one day grow up and change. he didn't...(and now he has a whole lot of stuff i did for him to use with someone else). i see myself doing the same thing with ochea with the same result. in the words of susan powter, it is time to "stop the insanity!" life is way too short for me to waste it on someone who can't appreciate what he has. if he thinks he can find happiness with someone else, then by all means he should go right ahead. God has more planned for me and my son. for me, the insanity stops here....

how much are you worth?

if i could point out one definite problem i have with myself, it would be that i have never quite realized my worth. i have always had the tendency to put others' feelings and needs above my own...whether they ultimately deserved it or not. i was with my ex-boyfriend on and off for ten years. i can't honestly say that i ever felt i was in love with ryan, but there were definitely things i loved about him. at least that is what i would tell myself every time i would put my feelings aside in order to make our relationship work. when we ended, i promised myself i would never, ever, EVER lose myself for the sake of someone again. in fact, i was pretty gung-ho about just avoiding the whole relationship thing all together. hell, if it doesn't exist then it can't hurt you, right? but here i am, in the same situation all over again. i admit that when i met ochea, i wasn't looking for nor wanting a relationship. he was different, though (or at least i thought). we always talked about how there just seemed to be something greater than ourselves that brought us together. i still feel that way. i'm not completely sure as to why we were brought together, but we were. i don't want to say that i regret allowing myself to be with ochea, but i wish i had done things differently.

for as long as i can remember, i have questioned myself as a person. no matter how much i do or how hard i try, i never feel i am quite as good a person as i could be. those close to me think i am foolish for thinking these thoughts about myself, but honest and truly, what makes you a great person? how do you know that the choices you make throughout your lifetime are enough to earn you that gold star? i think about all that i have done, especaiily for those i cared about, never because i wanted anything in return, just becasue i wanted to make them happy. that is the whole point of trying to be a good person, right? to get that warm and fuzzy feeling when you are able to make someone elses' life worth while? now i wonder, is it all worth it? because, let's face it, being a good person doesn't always pay off big in the end. hell, when it is my turn? for once, i want to be the person on the other side of the fence. i want someone to do for me as much as i do for them. i want to be selfish and not feel guilty about it. i want my pot of gold that is waiting underneath the rainbow.

Oh blah dee, oh blah dah...

Lately, I have been thinking a lot about regrets. There was a time in my life when I felt everything I did I had control over, so there was nothing I could honestly say I regretted doing. Now, at thirty, I know I was completely full of shit. Looking back over the course of my life, I realize there is a lot I regret doing...or not doing for that matter...and that frightens me. Like so many great thinkers before me, I am constantly pondering the decisions that have led me to this point in my life. If I had chosen to go to a school up North instead of one down South, would I have enjoyed myself more? If I had followed my heart and tried out for the orchestra, would I be happier? If I had chosen to go to the Caribou instead of Borders, would I be sitting here writing a blog about regrets?

Are you crazy? Or just plain stupid?

Once again I find myself pondering about why I allow myself to be put in certain situations. Here it is 3 a.m., and I should laying comfortably in my bed, dreaming of my love affair with Idris Elba. Instead, I am up wondering why I do the things I do. My tale is like that of so many others: Girl meets boy. Boy charms girl. Girl and boy start a torrid affair (well..maybe not torrid, but we'll pretend for dramatic affect). Girl gets knocked up by boy. Girl and boy (but mainly girl) decide to keep baby and be a family. Boy feels neglected and seeks out attention from others who are not girl. Girl busts boy in several lies. Girl decides to dump boy. Boy vows to be faithful and honest to girl. Girl realizes she does love boy and takes boy back for the sake of unborn child. Girl gets hit with the reality that boy is still a boy. . .

I have never quite understood why people do the things they do. Here I am, studying to get my Ph.D in Psychology, and yet I still have no flippin' clue about the human mind. I grew up in a house where my parents loved us, but not so much each other. It was very obvious to my siblings and me from a very early age that some people are just not meant to be together. After my parents divorced when I was 14, I became fixated on the idea of marriage and relationships...ultimately wondering why the hell anyone would want to be a part of either. I get the whole companionship thing, but really, you can get just as much satisfaction from owning dogs and a vibrator (believe me, you will always have a loyal, non-judgmental ear, and a guarantee you'll always be satisfied). I found myself watching how couples interacted with each other, but never quite understood the big sha-bang. Why not? Because people are out for themselves. Being in a relationship doesn't change that. You get tired of dealing with the person you are with, you go out and find someone else. You get tired of living the married life, you get a divorce. You don't want to deal with your partner's nagging, you lie to shut them up. You are incapable of taking care of yourself, you find someone who is willing to do it for you. Any way you look at it, someone is definitely going to get screwed. So, again I'm left asking, what's the point? As momma always says, "You can do bad by yourself." Of course, if I truly believed this and wasn't actually a secret relationship wanter at heart, then I wouldn't be up at the butt crack of dawn, worrying about mine, right? I admit I'm a dreamer. Deep down past the wall of cynicism and doubt, there's a girl who wants to find the boy she can be with forever. She has faith that the person she's with will be her other half forever and will do everything in his power to make her feel loved and wanted and cared for. Unfortunately for me, she's the voice in my heart telling my head to stay even when I don't think I should. She's the one reminding me of how important it is for my son to grow up with his father, so I need to try to work on our family. I know, however, that eventually her voice will be softened by the festering ball of doubt building up inside of me. I, after all, am also a person who is concerned about myself. No matter how much she tells me to believe him, I can't see past all he has already done or stop thinking about all that he may do. I can't help but feel the betrayal and hurt each and every time the incident is replayed in my head. I can't help but question if I'm crazy or just plain stupid every time I look at him and know what he did. I can't help but wonder how many times he has said these same words to somebody else or thought about touching someone else the way he touches me. I can't help but ask myself if we will ever be able to move forward, if we continue to keep walking backwards. . .

disappointments and regrets

the older i get, the more i realize just how disappointing life can be. i have always thought of myself as a good person. there's no denying that i am nothing more than a dreamer. at 29, i still hope to wake up and be surrounded by love and the world full of peace. i still believe that if i try hard enough, i can be one of those people who can change the world...and am still disappointed when i can't. i try to find the good in everyone i meet, deep down hoping that even the most unworthy person will somehow surprise me. that is where i get myself in trouble. too often i am willing to overlook the things that i shouldn't. a year ago i decided it was time to move on from the ten-year relationship that i somehow convinced myself that i couldn't live without. even though i knew i didn't want to be there anymore, fear and comfortability kept me there, constantly fighting for something that was no longer there. once i had decided that i deserved more than what i was being given, i promised myself that i would never again forget MY worth. but here i am, repeating the same destructive cycle. i have been with my current boyfriend for six months. at first, he seemed like everything i always wanted. he made me laugh and smile and feel like i was the most beautiful woman in the world. not that he still doesn't do those things, but it seems the longer i am with him, the more i find out about who he really is. he's not the person i hoped he was. in every relationship you have to ask yourself how much you are willing to invest and ultimately, how much are you willing to live with. i found a note that he wrote about his ex-girlfriends...how they wanted to hook up soon and he needed to get a car soon and how he couldn't go wrong with either one of them...which lead me to the conclusion that he is utterly and totally full of shit. i'm not a doormat and i am not a pushover. after i found it, the struggle inside my head once again began. "am i overreacting?" "maybe is not what i think..." "he's an asshole and i don't need him. let someone else deal with this shit, i have my own life to live." even though i know what i need to do, i keep talking myself out of it. i don't want to start that again. i don't want to be with someone ten years from now who wasn't worth my time or energy or love. i've been down that road before. now i am filled with disappointment for all that could have been and regret for all that there was. **the search continues...**

new beginnings

after ten years of off and on dating and three years of living together, i finally packed up and moved on. it was honestly one of the hardest things i have ever had to do. i never realized how much i depended on ryan to be there for me...even though he never really was. the thing about moving is that no matter how many times you have done it in your life, it never gets any easier. it is so final. you can never go back. while you think you are only packing up stuff to take from your old place to your new place, you are actually packing up your memories, hopes, and dreams. every day i wake up in MY new apartment, with MY pictures on the wall, and MY dishes in the sink. . . and though i am loving every minute of it, i can't help but be haunted by the times when MY stuff was just one part that belonged to an US. i kind of miss that feeling. or maybe i miss the IDEA of what the feeling would be if i actually allowed myself to feel. it's easy to fool yourself into being someone you are not when you never allow yourself to be who you are. but are you ever able to remove the masks after wearing them for so long? will the face you choose to show be the one you are willing to live with? before i even knew what happened, i had allowed my soul to crawl up into a ball and hide. i became someone i didn't even recognize. **NUMB** now, i am allowing my own fears and insecurities to swallow me whole. the disappointing part isn't that i'm allowing my fear to take over, but what i'm actually afraid of. not of being alone...or not living up to my life potential--i had overcome those concerns years ago. i'm afraid of allowing the true me be seen. the crier. the dreamer. the poet. the artist. the writer. the pretender. the bulimic. the cutter. the obsessive. the compulsive. the lover. the giver. the nurturer. the misunderstood. the scaredy-cat. the naive. the girl who loves to stand outside and be one with the wind...secretly praying to be carried away with every breeze. the nightly counter of the stars because i wish i were among them. the constant self-analyzer. the person i have always hoped to become...and the person i know i will never be able to be. the one person i'll never completely forgive. now is my time for new beginnings. i am now ready to present my unmasked face, free for the world to see, accept, and embrace. it is finally time to allow my soul to feel at ease...

Relationships...

i was talking to my mom one night...as i do every night...about the pressures of wanting and finding that one person who totally completes you. being that neither one of us actually has much knowledge in the area of love and happiness, we really couldn't come up with why some people seem to find their perfect match...or what they would consider to be there perfect match...while so many others tend to settle for relationships because the thought of being alone is extremely terrifying. "keesha," she said to me, as i had officially decided love just wasn't in the books for me, "some times you meet the person you're meant to be with when and where you least expect it...like a gas station or something. just have FAITH." FAITH. for such a small word, it provides a powerful punch. being me, i am no stranger to having FAITH. i leap on it constantly and know i will be held and guided to where i need to be. in all areas, that is, except my love life. no matter how hard i tried or wanted or needed to allow my FAITH to help me let go of the baggage...hell, who am i kidding?...matching suitcase, carry-on, and wardrobe bag worth of issues that i have held on to forever... in order find the person who would help me experience true HAPPINESS. i thought i had found him...but ten years later, i woke up and realized in order to experience HAPPINESS you actually have to be...well, HAPPY. that i wasn't. not until now... if i shared with you the story of how we met, you would think i was lying. i never was one for the whole "i knew he/she was the one from the moment i saw him/her" bullshit so many throw out to the oprahs and dr. phils of the world. that stuff never actually happens to us common folk any more than some poor, homeless working mother of five winning the lottery. but, still, the hope is always there. the moment i met him, i knew we would be connected for life. he is my mary poppins...the list i made, sang about, tore, and threw in the fireplace was recreated in the form of him. in his eyes i see my past, present, and future...and i am okay with that. more than okay...excited, even. every love song was written for him. i no longer hope to find my true soulmate...i know i already have. for the first time in 28...dare i say it, almost 29 years... i am convinced fairy tales weren't written just to peak the sense of hope in their readers, but to help us realize that having FAITH ultimately will lead to a happily ever after...

sooo that's what with "breaks"

I finally get it. A little over a year ago, the person I have been with for almost ten years informed me he wanted to take a "break" from our relationship. Of course, I was taken aback..."A what?...From whom?..." I didn't understand what it meant. But now I get it. It's not always about having your cake and eating it, too (yet another phrase I don't quite get...I mean, isn't having cake and eating it a good thing??). Sometimes it's about the need to know if what you have is all you are going to get. I'm not one to settle for things that don't make me happy...at least I thought I wasn't. Yet here I am, with my heart fighting with my head over a situation I should have let end years ago. So what is keeping me here? Maybe I'm just a dreamer, hoping one day he'll look at me and see himself through my eyes. Or maybe something less Dr. Philesque. Perhaps...Stability?... Stupidity?...Fear? Possibly a combo of all three? I mean, honestly, what girl doesn't want some type of stability in her life and life truly couldn't be experienced without some amount of stupidity being involved. Ah...and fear...the yin to my yang. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't afraid from time to time. Spiders, as small and squishable as they may be, invoke levels of fear I never knew existed. I'm not, however, afraid of being alone. The fear I am talking about is much more than that. It's the fear of how my heart will take it if my head wins. It's the fear of never being able to trust or love or want again. Hearts are very delicate, you know. They just don't take defeat well at all. Perhaps it is my turn to ask for a much needed break...

Needa hug? So do I...

I'm feeling incredibly touchy feely today. Not that rubbin' lovin' type of touchy feely, but more of a "child out of the womb" touchy feely. Maybe it's because the only physical touch I have encountered in the last couple of weeks has been from my dog. She has cuddling down to an art. Of course, I take full credit for teaching her the skills she has acquired over the past year and a half, which is also why I am quick to give her the props for being so excellent at them. I usually enjoy her wake up kisses on the nose and the way she tests to see if I am still alive by resting her head under my chin...but lately, it just has not been enough. Truth be told, I need a good, old fashioned hug between adults. I used to rely on my sister to come over once or twice a week to fulfill this pathetic need of mine, but she's grown now and has a life of her own. She doesn't have the kind of time to worry about dropping by and giving her older, cuter sister a hug to help me through the week. I considered going all Dave Matthews Everybody and getting my fix hugging strangers on the street. It's a beautiful concept...hug a person here...spread the love there...but let's keep it real, shall we? The people wanting the hugs aren't necessarily the people you want to be hugging. I watch Law and Order...pervs are everywhere...I know the deal. Hmmm...does that mean I am one of them for wanting to hug a bunch of strangers in the first place?. . .Definite possibility, I suppose. I mean, I never heard about anyone going psycho-crazy due to hug withdrawal, but hell, I know people have gone nuts for less. Whoda thunk a little thing like a hug could be worth so much...?

Cheaters has to be one of the funniest shows on late night television. I first stumbled upon the show about 3 years ago. I was having one of my many nights of insomnia, putting a disney puzzle together, and watching the tube...and there it was. from moment one, I was pretty hooked. The seriousness of the host...the dramatic responses from the detectives...it doesn't get better than this, people! You can't help but wonder how these people do not know that their other halves are screwing around on them. Take the lady on here tonight. First, she has a nose ring...but it isn't one of those cute little studs that are hardly noticeable. It's a massive piece of metal, boaring a hole in this chick's nostril. It just ain't cute. Second, she is like 40 years old. She's trying to be all hard core...talkin' that ghetto talk. She's saying things like "cold busted"...yeah, that's attractive. Third, she's dating a dude named Grammy Lane (pornstar, stripper name, no doubt), who's a bouncer at a club...if that doesn't scream street thug, I don't know what does. Finally, she totally set herself up. Everyone knows you never make threats to kill someone while cameras are taping. Does she not watch Law and Order?? I especially love when the "victim" forces himself/herself to cry...but no tears ever actually appear. And when the "cheater" acts all surprised and starts denying that he/she is even there with this "unidentified" person..."what...who is this? I was just walking to my car and this naked woman jumped out the bushes and started humping my leg! I tried to get her off, but I'm a man and I gots needs, honey...." Fights break out...more fake tears are shed...the "cheater" now becomes the "victim" and Joey Greco is all up in the mess..."How do you feel now? Do you not have feelings for this person who gave you their time and energy? You don't love her, you only love yourself. We have you on tape, sir, and the tapes don't lie." Now that's quality television..

What are the odd's of winning the lottery?

In ten days (and counting), I will be out of a job. Being a certified Special Education teacher with three years experience and a Masters (well...almost...) you would think job offers would be falling in my lap. Unfortunately, this is so not the case. I'm totally struggling here. I go to the job fairs and go on interviews and still, nada. What the hell?? It's not like I am some kind of psycho killer for crying out loud and for pete's sake. Hell, I'm the one who wants to work WITH them. So, why is it so hard for me to find a freakin' job? And why stress about it? I mean, seriously, if worse comes to worse I can totally live off the government. I watch Maury, I know the scoop. You know, come to think about it, that would be the ideal situation. I am, after all, in thousands of dollars worth of debt due to trying to get a quality education and making something out of my life. If I were really as smart as I once thought I was, I would have went to DeVry for two years. I know I would have a job right now and definitely would be making a ton more moulah. Instead, I listened to my guidance counselor and took the responsible route. I wonder where that counselor is now...probably sitting back, laughing her ass off at all the students she told to go to college. She knew what the deal was. She was once in my same position...staring helplessly at an adult who claimed to have all the answers to life's little mysteries. That person told her to go to college or live life as a social delinquent and as pay back she told the same line to all the confused high schoolers coming to her for guidance. I want that job. The things I could come up with...for my own enjoyment, of course. Oh the possibilities...

Free at last...well, sort of...

So, it's almost official. The letter is all typed up and ready to be turned in. I feel great. I mean, sas great as one can feel when they are putting in a letter of resignation but still have to technically "work" for two more months. Especially these last two months. For those of you unfamilar with the special education situation, these last months of school are dedicated to the art of doing massive amounts of paperwork. Once the massive amount of paperwork is completed, we have to provide the packs to other special education teachers to read and then we have to hold meetings with the parents of the kids of which the paperwork is written. It's a wonderfully excellent way to spend the day on top of trying to teach the scrawny bastards how to read and write or act appropriately in society. This week is by far the best. The kids are taking one of those standardized test things, like the ones we used to take in school. You know, the ones that you spend a whole week having to do and mean absolutely nothing to your academic future? As a special education teacher, I get the honor of reading that whole bloody test to a handful...10 to be exact...students who really could care less if I were reading the test to them or not. I am really just reading it to myself. By the end of the period, I am tired...they are tired...absolutely nothing is going to get done...and it doesn't. I absolutely do not give one monkey's crack what they do. If they want to do crossword puzzles all day...I'm cool with that. Want to play games...No problemo. The general education have time to teach extravagent lessons on the life cycle of a tree or what war happened in 1812. They have had two hours to do nothing. They are well-rested...I am not. And still they have complaints about this, that, or the other. The gifted teacher came to me yesterday to tell me she heard that I was not returning. Of course, I inquired as to how she found out this information since I have never said more than two words to this lady the whole three years I have been working here. She asked me if I was just that unhappy here...blah, blah, blah. I just looked at her with the same expression I look at most of my kids with....that blank "what the hell are you talking to me for because I honestly do not give a crap" look. Of course, she would stay here until they school burned down because she is the gifted teacher. Her kids are the future doctors and lawyers and such. She gets the nice big room and all the resources she needs. I have to beg, borrow, steal, and often threaten to get anything for my kids. So, hells nah, I am not happy here. I guess what they say is true...the longer you work with a certain population, the more you become one of them.

Blood is thicker than water...

So, I just got off the phone with my mom, who I call nightly...between 8:30 and 9:00, depending on whether or not the man she married, but is now divorcing, is on the computer or not. Little did my mom know, my younger sister had already called me...a few hours earlier...to give me the lastest family drama. It seems that my mom's soon to be ex has been screwing around on her on and off for the last 12 years. Being the calm and rational person that I am, of course I was ready to call the scummy bastard and show him the side that has rendered me a bitch in the eyes of so many who know me. But, my sister made me promise not to be my rational self until my mom had a chance to talk to me herself. This, of course, was very difficult for me. The whole time I am waiting for 8:30 to roll around, I am simmering like a fresh pot of coffee. Most people become calmer after a couple of hours...and even forget after a few days. Notice I said "most people." If there is one thing that I have prided myself on for the past 26 years is not being like "most people." In fact, I often go out of my way to do the exact opposite of what I think "most people" would do. It may sound strange to some, but for me, it's oddly exciting. But, i digress. Instead of calming down, I tend to simmer...and I definitely hold grudges. I keep replaying the scenario over and over again in my head, which tends to cause me to become more and more pissed off. This is never good for anyone involved, and especially isn't good if you are supposed to be acting like you have absolutely no idea about the whooping news your mom is going to drop on you during your nightly call...between 8:30 and 9:00. By the time I actually had to make the call, I was pretty past simmering point. I had to tap deep into the acting skills I use while pretending to teach my precious children with exceptional needs (a story for another day). I called my mom at my usual time...she answered promptly on the first ring...I acted surprised when she told me she had some news to tell me...she proceeded in providing me with the gory details...I felt the boiling point coming on....before she even had time to finish I was overflowing. I couldn't help myself. I feel like I am a person that can deal with a lot. Shady people and adults with no bloody sense...not so much. Ryan often tells me that I am abrasive to a scary degree when I become upset. I don't deny these things...hell, i know these things about myself and have learned to accept them. Every so often, however, I feel that being abrasive is the only way to get your point across...especially when you a) have no respect for who you are dealing with, b) are dealing with a shady person, c) you are dealing with an adult with no bloody sense, or d) all of the above. I am definitely circling *d* in this case, so any rationality that may have existed (and a big MAY that would be) is completely and utterly flushed down the crapper. I informed my mother that she needed to be strong, and since I am my mother's child, I would be informing her bastard of an ex...in a polite and loving way, of course...that blood is a hell of a lot thicker than water. I won't call him today, that's too soon. Maybe tomorrow, when the simmering has again begun and the fresh brew of poetry that is only stirred up by a women scorned...or even worse by a women of a mother scorned...is ready to be poured...

Take this job and shove it!

I don't want to sound like one of those bitter individuals who dread going to work everyday, but why lie? I am one. I am a special education teacher...or to be politically correct, I am a teacher of children with exceptional needs. Usually when I tell people this little tidbit of my life, they automatically assume that I work with those beautiful kids that you root for at the special olympics, you know, the ones that you see with their big eyes and crooked smiles and want to hug and kiss and care for forever. Nope. Not that lucky. I get the honor and privilege of working with the kids that the other teachers can't deal with. I get the behavior problems...oh yes, those precious little angels you see showing out in the grocery store and make you want to smack their parents for not smacking them. Indeed, that is my job. From 8 to 2, I get to educate these darlin's on the way of the world...or at least my version of it, anyways. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy dealing with the crazy kids...i'm a psych major...it's what I went to school for...it's what I do. But this whole teaching gig is getting to me. I despise teaching. I only got into the whole field because my job at the adolescent psychiatric hospital was getting stale. I also ASSUMED, prior to actually thinking about what they say about making assumptions, that teachers were ultra professional and actually cared about the betterment of the kids. I mean, why else would you choose to deal with all the craziness of the chill'rens, right? Well, now I know why they say the saying they say about one who makes assumptions. I can somewhat deal with hormone raging middle schoolers...for the most part. Don't get me wrong, the kids can be very annoying...especially since most of them lack discpline. But I must admit, there is something endearing about kids who have been deemed trouble makers and criminals, like you. Those are the ones you want to like you, honestly. Who knows when you may need a discount cd player or a bootleg dvd to add to your collection. The trouble makers are the ones with substance and make for interesting stories at your uppity middle-class tea parties. For this antisocial educator, however, it's more about entertainment value. The fact that I can spew out my sarcastic wit, without recourse on a daily basis, to corrupt the minds of so many young ones makes dealing with the bullshit of my over controlling co-workers almost worth it. Of course, my teaching strategies may not appear ideal under the "No Child Left Behind" mumbo jumbo. Let's be honest, most of the students I see every day were left behind a long time ago or else they wouldn't be with me in the first place. So, I say screw the bloody curriculum! I prefer my own "Keeping It Real" study, anyways. Who needs to know verbs and nouns? By the time you graduate high school you don't remember what they are. I teach the stuff and I still couldn't tell ya what a freakin' adverb is. The only phrases my students need to know are "Do you want fries with that?" and "Paper or plastic?" Hell, I would be satisfied if they would write "Will work for food" like that instead of like "Wil wurk 4 fud." You want social skills? "Don't drop the soap" is a skill my kids need to be taught at an early age. Make it a family skill to be used by Uncle Tito and Auntie Charmaine. Math...the only math skill my students need to know is how to count the endless amount of change placed in their highly blinged out tin cup at the end of each work day or better yet, how many gold plated teeth they will need to blend in with the one real one they could afford. Ok, so this may sound harsh and even a little heartless, but it is said out of love. We all get a good laugh about it and I go on to proudly provide them with the quality Georgia education that has made us 48th in the country and they anxiously come to me to get. Those who can do...those who can't....