Monday, February 23, 2009

Oh my.

Soooo yeah. My life? Quite boring. Played ffxi. new blog over there. Did science lab project thingy. I got to make liiiiitle molecular models out of toothpicks and spice drops. It was actually kinda fun.
Aaaaaand I had to drive tonight for driver's ed. Im pretty sure Im going to become a hobo so I dont have to get a driver's lisense. Yes. That is my plan. ('cept not really) But! I didn't hit anyone or anything. But I had to drive a Ford Taurus. Which is grosstastic. haha I like driving my dad's huge Dodge truck. Much easier to drive. Aaaaand it's fun to be bigger than everyone else so people move out of my way hehe.
And I finished my short story! Ok, so I finished the rough draft. Close enough right? Well, here's a little bit of it. If I get some response Ill post more of it up here. Alright?
Ugh, I havent posted in like a week and I still have nothing to say. But I have an excuse! Im talking to Kristine on the phone so she's distracting me. Yes, that's it. So blame her. She's one of my stalkers (followers) so check her out. I believe her picture is black and white. But I forget her url and Im too lazy to go get it.
That's about it.

The sound of glass breaking. It's never a good sound. But for a kindergarten teacher, occasionally, it's expected. Faye turned to face her class of 30 five-year-olds. All eyes almost comically wide with innocence. Veronica, the student teacher, looked to Faye for know what to do. It was, after all, her first week of interning and she was still learning how to deal with 30 devils with angel faces.

“Mr. Taylor, would you care to explain to me how the flower pot is all over the floor?” Faye asked calmly. A lanky red headed boy looked up at his teacher.

“I dunno what happened Mrs. Kirpatz. Wasn't me.” He replied innocently.

“Yes, well then perhaps staying in during recess to clean the mess up will help jog your memories.” Faye got up to help the rest of the class into their raincoats while Veronica got the red-headed boy a broom and dustpan. When all the children where either outside jumping in rain puddles or cleaning up broken flower pots, Faye sat down at her desk with a sigh.

“How... how did you know?” Veronica asked. “It could've been any of them.”

“Hun, when you've been a kindergarten teacher for 20 years you just know.” Faye replied with a smile.

“Some days” Veronica said with a sigh, “I feel like I'll never understand them.” She glanced and Faye. “When did you know you were going to teach? How did you know?”

Faye smiled. She'd seen many interns come and go. Some made it, some didn't. But she has a good feeling about this one. “It just takes experience... and a whole lot of patience let me tell you.” Faye added with a laugh.

“Well, it couldn't have been hard for you, you're an amazing teacher!” Veronica smiled shyly.
Faye grinned, “It's not all a walk in the park; but it's worth it.” She looked around Veronica to an expectant little boy. “All done then? You can go. Don't let it happen again, mind you.” As the boy raced out, completely forgetting his raincoat in his haste, Veronica asked, “If you don't mind, I'd love to hear your story.” She sat on a miniature desk, her toes barely grazing the carpet.

“If you don't mind, I'd love to tell it.” Faye responded with a teasing smile. Veronica blushed. “Let's see,” Faye began, starring off into space. “It began in my 2nd year of college....”

“Reine!” I know you're in there. Open up!” I continue to pound on the door relentlessly till I heard the lock click and the door open to reveal a tall, lanky boy with electric blue, spikey hair.
“Yes, m'dear? What has called you to my room at this indecently early hour?” He opened the door invitingly and I stepped inside Reine's usually cluttered room. But at the moment it was spotless. Old pizza boxes that usually littered the floor were gone, his mattress for a bed was made, and all his half naked male model clippings were taken off the wall.

“Parents visiting?” I asked as Reine dropped himself onto his bed with a soft “oof!”.

“Yep. Have to look good, have to look clean. Haven't told them the current state of my hair though.” He added with a wink. He picks up a discarded Vogue magazine and skims through it as I head to his closet and begin riffling through it.

“So when are you going to tell them you're gay?” I asked casually, still going through his things.

“And break their lil' old hearts? I think not.” He sat up in bed and looked at me quizzically. “What on earth are you doing?”

“Looking for my black heels. I know you have them. Why you have them, I can only guess. Where did you put them? Aha!” I hold up a black heel, followed by another, triumphantly. “Gotcha.”

“What's the occasion?” Reine asked, flipping through yet another issue of Vogue.

“Interview for internship,” I bit my lip, “for kindergarten teacher.” I added in a rush. Reine just stares at me. We're thinking the same thing. Me? Teacher? I explain to him how my counselor told me it's a good career idea. And since I don't know what I'm going to do anyway, it sounds as good as anything else.

“Well good luck. Knock 'um dead my chocolate giantess.” Reine said with a grin. He's called me a chocolate giantess ever since Jr. High. See, when you're 6'0” and your skin always has a dark brown shade to it, people often get the wrong impression. Some think I'm scary and won't talk to me. So to get through those tough years of school, Reine came up with the silly name and it seemed to help.

“Wait!” He calls to me. I peek my head back in the room, eyebrow raised. “When is your interview over? I want you to meet someone.” He smiled his lopsided smile he knows I cant resist.

“Noon. I'll meet you by the fountain at one, alright?” I turn to leave before I remember to ask: “Who is he?”

Reine smiled, almost nervously. “You'll find out.” He knows I hate surprises and I would've interrogated him more if I didn't have to get back to my dorm, get dressed, and take out my nose and eyebrow jewelry. As Reine so fondly put it: Have to look good, have to look clean.
I walked into the local elementary nervous. Not quite sure what I was suppose to do, I asked the secretary in the main office. She was so used to talking to children all under the size of 5'0” that she began her “Hel--” staring at my stomach. Her eyes traveled all the way up to my face and smiled wearily. It was one of those days. She informed me that the principal was busy and I should take a seat for the moment. I thanked her and turned around to find that the only seat available was between a chubby little girl with a nasty cut on her knee, and a boy who just couldn't sit still. Joy.

I sat down and the fidgety boy looked up at me, blue eyes round, and exclaimed, “You're so big, you must be a 6th grader!”

“You're so tiny, you must be a 1st grader!” I replied, trying to keep a serious face. The little boy puffed out his chest proudly and informed me he was in kindergarten. (But he got that a lot.) He chatted for some time at me. I say “at” because I couldn't really respond to him. He talked too fast and I didn't understand a word that came out of his mouth. Finally, the principal peeked her head out her office door and waved me in. The office was everything an elementary principals office should be. A wooden apple sat precariously on the edge of her desk and drawings given to her by either her own children or students cluttered the walls. A few items showed quite a large amount of college pride and I pointed at a flag that said “PORTLAND UNIVERSITY” on it with bright yellow letters and said “I go there”. The principal positively just glowed with happiness and bombarded me with questions of who still taught there and if the old tech building was still standing.

“Disaster waiting to happen, that building. But, down to business.” She said with a tiny smile, as if it was a joke I somehow missed. “Tell me about yourself. Do you want to teach? Any schooling? No criminal record I should hope. We check that out, you know. So,” She waved her arm in my direction, “go ahead.”

I cleared my throat nervously. “Erm. I'm Faye.. Faye Moon. I'm a student at Portland University. As of yet, I don't know what I'm majoring in. Teaching, for all I know.” I added with a smile. The principal just nodded and wrote things down on a piece of paper. “I have never taught before. Unless, teaching your siblings counts for anything. I graduated high school quite well off.” I hand her my transcript and resume, unsure if I should keep talking while she looked it over. I decided to continue on. “Erm, no criminal record. Nothing of that sort.” I talked on and on about things I had done and the woman just nodded a lot and occasionally asked a question. Apparently I passed inspection because I would start by being a student teacher in Mrs. Burrow's kindergarten class Monday morning.


“Wait, you didn't even know you wanted to teach till right before?” Veronica asked in amazement.

“Yep, had no idea; and look at me now!” Faye added with a laugh. Recess has ended and the soggy children (one little red head was particularly wet) filed in one by one. Both women helped the little boys and girls out of their jackets and sat them down for a nap. None of the children really gave much of an argument. All the running around they did must have exhausted them. When the last stubborn child was down Veronica turned expectantly to Faye.


After the interview I sauntered back to campus, having plenty of time before one o'clock. I had a lot on my mind. College work was slowly piling up, the new internship, and my work at Powells.
The one great beauty of living in Portland: Powells. I love books and I love working there. It's not that I needed the money. My parents sent me a reasonable amount for allowance each month. I just enjoyed working there. But with everything else going on, I didn't know how I'd fit the hours in.

I arrived at the fountain outside the library and sat along the edge, letting my fingers dip in the cool water. I sat there for a bit, spacing out and letting my mind wander, waiting for Reine to show up. I didn't really have to wait long. He waved to get my attention and started my way, dragging along a very unhappy looking guy. When they got close I recognized Reine's new boy-toy: Evan McClenn. He's one of those guys where if you see in the hallway or on street, you turn right around and walk the other direction. I'm pretty sure I have never seen this guy happy. Not one smile. I'm pretty sure this guy could look bored in the middle of Disneyland. What Reine saw in him, I can't say.

“Hey Reine. Hey.. Evan.” I nod to both boys. The lean, bored looking blonde cocked his head and looked at me intently.

“Faye.. Faye Moon, right? Last year Woman's Studies?” I nod again, examining my Crayola purple fingernails. “I knew it” Evan whispers to Reine, who already knew we were acquainted. I had often talked on and on about Evan when he irritated me in class. Oh yes, Reine knew I didn't like Evan. He knew very well. Lucky for Reine, Evan was completely oblivious to the frost that was I was probably emitting at that moment, and he cleared his throat nervously.

“So... want to get some coffee. With, y'know, us?” Reine lifted his hand, which was entwined with Evan's, as an explanation of sorts. Evan just stood there squinting in the sunlight.

“I'd, erm, love to,” I lied, “but I've got this horrendous term paper to write and with this new gig, who knows when I'll get time.” Evan nodding, understanding. Reine, on the other hand, saw right through my lie. He leaned forward and bent so we were face-to-face.

“Nice try” He whispered, “but I will hang out with you eventually. Just give him a shot. For me, please?” Reine smiled his lopsided smile. Then, with unexpected energy, he bound up and waved goodbye over his shoulder, dragging Evan behind him.

With the rest of my afternoon open, I swung into the library and checked-out a few books on teaching little kids. A few of them were how-to books for starting parents. I figured hey, same thing right? My hope was that I would impress by knowing a few things first day. But I found the first few months were just sitting there. Observing, they called it. Sure, occasionally I would interact with the kids. Teach a lesson or two. But that was much less exciting than I thought it was going to be. The real excitement? The first day I was fully in charge of an entire class. For an entire day.

Wednesday, February 18, 2009

Growing old is manditory, growing up is optional.

I'm tired of growing up. I'm tired of “Acting like a big girl”. Im sixteen. Turning seventeen in April. But holy hell, you'd think I was turning twenty by the way my parents are acting. Last time I checked sixteen ended with the term “teen”. Which would make me a.... teenager. Shocking, I know. When you're a teenager you screw up. Hell, when you're human you screw up. It's what we do. In fact, it's our prerogative to screw up. We just let it roll right off our shoulders and learn from it. I.e. - don't do it again. Though, as we all know, there are a few people out there where it takes a few times of hitting your forehead on the keyboard to figure out their eyebrows aren't going to type Shakespeare. But for most, once is enough to get the idea. But when you're grown up everything changes. When you do something that really messed things up.. you reflect on it again and again. You feel guilty. You are aware how you affect other people.

To hell with people.

Shall I give an example? I shall.

So yesterday my step mom was ranting on to my younger step brother about how he's messing up and it's stressing her out. This is about the time I pop into the kitchen for a snack. I inform my step mom that our lives are plenty stressful too, y'know. And she goes on this self-righteous rant about how her problems are more important and my crap is insignificant.

Alright, I will admit right here right now that my life is a hell of a lot easier than some. But does that make my feelings insignificant? School is hella frikkin stressful. And im taking driver's ed at the moment so double the homework and minimize the amount of time to do it. And friends. Love 'um... but they're stressful. It's all stress that we share. But does that mean your stress is more important than the next person's?

Anyway, where was I? Oh yes. Kid's screwing up = makes parents have stress. Yes. Understandable. Not that that's any extra stress on the kids. Oh no. 'Course not. I'm going to let you in on a little secret. Lean in close. Ready?

I hate disappointing my parents. I must be the most straight edge teenager ever. I swear. But I really do hate that face that they make. You all know the one. So I made a little dedication to myself to do everything just a little bit better.

Alright, Im a terrible example of a teenager. Sue me. So Im standing there while my brother's getting ripped a new one and my dad gets in on this too. And he's all “you better not fail one test in driver's ed” to me (Note: I have a “Test” every class day. They're really more like quizzes.) because my brother failed a ton or something. *We go to different schools btw. Normal & driving) In my school you just come in early the next class day and retake the test. No big deal right? To my parents? Unacceptable.

Well it just so happens that I had driver's ed that night.

You see where this train wreak is going yet?

Yep, that's right. Failed my test. First I ever failed there. But it's cool, y'know. Just retaking it tomorrow.

So class ends and I get in the car and my dad does his usual “how was class?” and I tell him that I failed and he gets the “im disappointed in you silence” thing going on. And I just start crying.

Right there.

Over a dumb test.

(Note: For those who dont personally know me.. I rarely cry. When I do it's out of frustration or tiredness.)

So the moral of this long and confusing story is I'm fucking tired of being grown-up. I dont want to care about how I relate to people. To hell with people.

Sunday, February 15, 2009

Winning the lottery would be pretty spectacular right about.... now.

Gah. So right now my choir, band, and orchestra are all planning to go to Disneyland in May for the music festival. Cost? $700. I made about $500 (Christmas was a big help) & my mom's playing $200 that I have to work off in the summer. So, it's all paid for. That's great. Talk about a whole load of stress gone.

But now we got Stateside. My youth group is going to Colorado in July to do something cool. We've helped build stuff, we've put on VBS's. that type of thing. Cost? $400. I dont have the money, & I realllly want to go. My best friend is moving to Japan this June & her parents are letting her come to Colorado. In fact, she's coming because of a bet I made her. & now I cant even go. I feel like I lied to her. So, hopefully God just provides and I work my butt off for whatever he throws at me & it will all work. I just gotta pray about it. That's all. Easy, right? I sure hope so.

Just got over a cold too. Missed a whole week of school. Yikes. Talk about the homework pile up. Well, the pile would be a tad tinier if, oh I dunno, I was doing it instead of this. hehe. And I got driver's ed. Anyone been through that nightmare? Ugh. No fun at all. But, I gotta drive, whethere I want to or not. Got to get job, got to do running start. Fun all around.

So that's about it. Oh, atm Im taking a College Writing class and my first assignment? Write a short story. So, I might put clips here & there on here if I have nothing better to go on and on about. It's going along alright at the moment. So we'll see.

Saturday, February 14, 2009

Me! Now with lots more random!

Erm. As you can see. I like to write. Randomly. Sometimes well.. sometimes not so well. Well here yah go.


"You're a jerk!"

She glares up at me, trying to decide if her insult struck home or not. I shrug. I suppose I owe that. She huffs out her chest and tries to make her lanky 4'4" body even taller.

"I said that yo--" This is pulls a raised eyebrow out of me. She stumbles over her words and just ends up spewing sounds like "rrrryagh!" but im not quite sure on my spelling. I calmly put down my papers and turn to the little girl.

"Yes, Mandie?"

"You're a jerk!"

"I got that part, yes. Anything else I should be informed of?"

"Sammy got more goldfishes than me!" I stare at her. I admit, the first week, this stuff really did baffle me. Who cares about how many goldfish the person sitting next to you got? Apparently, that's a seven-year-old's job. After a few months working at the daycare, I still really didnt understand. But you dont have to understand why someone's dying of thirst to give them water. I sigh and look down at the girled named Mandie, who's now on the verge of tears. As a guy, Im not really qualified to handle crying. Not part of my wiring system. I get up from the picnic table I was sitting in and go evenly distribute the goldfish, so everyone is happy. I sit back down and Amanda, the other daycare employee, laughs.

"You're not made to be here hun. She walked all over you." She grins and I just cant help grinning back like a fool. I dont care if I had to have a whole elementary school walk all over me; if it got me a smile from Amanda, well, that'd just be okay. I become acutely aware that Im still smiling and she's not. The smile disappears in a flash and I cough nervously. I feel like a fool. It must be obvious that Ive been head over heals for this woman since I started here. But what was I going to do? She's already out of college and got a nice job along with the summer babysitting. What do I have? A cramped dorm back on campus and a dorm hall full of literature nerds and guys who havent seen the light of day since they decided to connect the library to our dorm to make space for the new tech building. I cough again.

"I didnt let her walk all over me. I just made her happy. Did you see her face? She was about to come unglued." I throw my arms above my head, "I dont know about you but I sure dont want a bunch of screaming kids right before their parents come to pick them up." And sure enough, as I the words left my mouth a car pulled down the grassy drive and Amanda waved to the parents of a little tan boy who hopped into the car and was jabbering his parents' ears off as they drove back down the road. She turned to me with a smug look.

"No she wasnt. Did you see how fast her eyes got dry when she got her fish? She's pulling your chain. Admit it, you're weak when it comes to water works."

"Am not! I just-- well you see-- yeah okay, I'm weak." I throw my arms up in mock defeat and she laughs. " But im fine with everything else. Give me a little boy and no problem. But little girls? They bawl over everything!" I add with a hint of defeat in my voice. Amanda reaches over the table and pats my hand. When our skin contacted everything seemed all of a sudden more vibrant. Though, as soon as it started she drew her hand away and went to help a tiny red-headed boy carry his art projects to his mom's car. She waved them off and returned to the table. I started, alarmed, when she began to put her things away.

"What, already?" I look around with a start. No kids in sight. I was so busy centering on Amanda I didnt notice all the kids going home. Im a great babysitter I thought bitterly. Like Amanda had said, I was made for here. Honestly, I didnt know why I was here. I know I needed the money. But working retail or even some fast foods paid better than this. Alright, Amanda was one of the reasons I was still there. Another because I had applied to everywhere else and no one really seemed to be hiring. I pull myself out of my thoughts to wave Amanda goodnight and watch her little red honda accord drive away. All by myself, in the back field of the local church, on a bench. Having no idea where I was going. I sat there for a while, thinking of just about everything. When my cell phone vibrates across the table. I pull it across the table to look at the caller id and drop it when I read "Amanda Yinski". We exchanged numbers for work and work only. I had never had the guts to call. I pick it up and answer.

"hel--Hello?" My voice cracks in the middle and I feel like dying.

"Hey! Nathan! God, I totally forgot, with getting all the kids with the right parents and all. Did you want to come get a drink with a few of my friends tomorrow night? It's my.. um.. birthday" She says it as a whisper and I get the hint to not ask how old she is. "So you want to? I mean, you dont have to, if you dont want to... hello?" My mouth hung open in shock. I quickly start my heart back up.

"I-I'd love to. Where?" I pull everything out of my pockets, trying to find paper and a pen.

"The Runner. Only good place in town right?" She laughs and I give a half hearted laugh. The Runner served alchol. Of course it did. She's an adult. In fact, I was to. But I was only 20. Would be for the next 4 months.

"Of course. Hey, um, I could be the designated dri--"

"No no! We got one. Wont drink. Religious thing, I dont know. Great guy. So you coming?" I had no, I cant. Im not old enough on the tip of my tongue, but what came out was entirely different:

"Of course! Wouldnt miss it for the world."

"Perfect! So the details are..." I only listened enough to mechanically write it all down and say goodnight. I sat there, dubmfounded. I tipped from the emotions delighted and horrified. It was great, superb, unimaginable that I was going out with Amanda. But Ill look like a complete idiot in front of her and her friends when I show up and dont drink with them because I cant. Not because I decide not to. Because im not old enough. How baby was that? I slide out of my seat and walk to my little beat up volvo bug and slip in, unsure what to do after that.

Erm. Yes.

You want to know something really interesting? No one will be reading this. Funny how that works isnt it? You get all nervous about throwing your life into the internet. "Oh no! Who will see it?" When in total truth... no one will be reading. Because, lets be honest now, no one cares about what you write. Oh yes, people care about you. Dont be going all emo and such on me now. Seriously, step away from the letter opener. For if they really cared about what you did today.. they'd ask you. Simple as that. So why is blogging so popular? What's the appeal? Im not quite sure. Perhaps, like some people like the sound of their own voice, some people prefer the sound of typing. Soothing. Or maybe you just have to get it out somewhere. And, lets be honest, writing a diary? So third grade. Whatever the reason, uncountable amounts of blogging is happening all over the place. Im pretty sure if you mashed your forehead against the keyboard as a url, you'd get to someone's blog. (Please, do not attempt.)

So yes. Here it is. Im not sure what's going to be in it. Im just a girl. Reads too much. Gets good grades. Doesnt do drugs. Has a somewhat unhealthy addiction to FFxi. I often go off topic and go on and on about nothing in particular. I mean, hey look, I just wrote a whole blog about... blogging. How good am I? Not sure when I update. Whenever I have spare time I suppose.

Which is often.