Saturday, December 22, 2007

It's so much worse

than we could've imagined. read here, if you are so inclined. my brother says he's ok. i don't believe him, because i keep having nightmares.

Monday, December 17, 2007

Ripped from the headlines

Today is surreal. I talked to my brother earlier to find out that a really good childhood friend of his murdered his wife today. murdered. and he is now missing. he's not just suspected of murder. he called his brother after it happened and told him, then said he was going to turn himself in. i've known this guy my whole life. he lived 4 houses away from me. he was the nice one, while his brother scared the crap out of me for years. his brother got his shit together, while choink apparently was losing his. i hope he at least killed himself today. because nothing good can ever come. we don't know if any of the 3 kids were home. and it scares me that this cycle will never end. his childhood was fucked and it apparently came to a head for some reason today.
i'm so worried about my brother, who never really expresses his emotions too well. but, i know that he probably feels more deeply than i do. i don't remember the last time i heard him on the verge of tears. i wish i could go home with him, to be supportive.
we're not supposed to know these people.

Thursday, December 13, 2007

Soundtrack of our young lives

OK, I really do love teaching munchkins, if only because I giggle all day long. Today, in an attempt to rival the Dee Schneider wannabe in 1st grade, one of my Kinders was humming while doing his math worksheet. It took about a half second before I recognized the tune as the Imperial Death March
Oh dear god, they kill me. And I pretty much feel the same way when it comes to numbers.

Monday, December 10, 2007

My Precious

I remember feeling privilege and shame when I was complimented on the first ring. I was 16 and I thought my life was worth ending. But, I remember sitting in a salon, feeling unjustified because I had this expensive gift of filial love on my finger. I cried later because 3rd world country children smiled as I hoarded prescription drugs while wearing expensive antiques on my hand. In 19 years, I've only lost sight of it twice. And even then, it was recovered within 24 hours. The second ring, purchased to commemorate failure or survival, I forget which, gets the most compliments. I'm ashamed to remember that it was on sale when I bought it with my discount. $11.98 was all my life was worth in 1994, apparently. The third ring is always changing. The "new" ring has been here throughout the whole Portland life, if not before. 6 years and counting?
I am never awake long without my rings. They are reminders. Of me, my life, where I have been. They are constants. Mostly. The third one needs to be changed soon. Because I am always evolving. I've been in a slump. I've actually been longing for depressive me. But only because that me was always ENGAGED in the world. I'm longing for that feeling.
WOW! suddenly this post has taken on this totally unplanned Freudian thing about rings and engagement. I'm going to let it stand, because maybe it is what I mean. And I've had some wine. Or maybe I just meant I want the third ring not to turn my finger green anymore...

Saturday, December 08, 2007

What do you want to do with your life?

Sorry kids. I think I've been busy or something. It's been good. I'm substituting a lot. And working part time at the store that enabled me to come in off the ledge this summer. My hair, which I was pulling out in stress clumps, even appears to be growing back in. Back in July, I (unknowingly) realistically answered someone by saying things would be better in November. And they were. Financially, I'm not scraping quarters from old coats quite as much. And, I'm really excited about teaching. I actually think I am good at it. I've been in one school pretty consistently, so I know a lot of the kids and many of them call out to me or hug me in the halls. It feels good when even the naughty ones ask me when I'm going to be their teacher again.

And of course, I like the naughty ones most of all. One afternoon, I was walking down the hall while my class was in Library. A wee 1st grader comes out of the bathroom bobbing his head and quietly singing to himself. He is a cute little kid, but boy does he live in his own universe. As he gets closer, I can hear that he is singing "We're not gonna take it, no we ain't gonna take it." He stops, looks at me, "Hey Ms. D." Then, immediately back to his quiet rock. It was all I had not to cry with laughter. He looked so intent! The following day, in the teacher's lounge, an aide walks in and asks, "Did anyone else see some little blonde kid singing Twisted Sister?" And several chimed in, with reports of him singing it apparently all day. I love my job.