Sunday, September 30, 2007

twenty something

My apartment is one of my favorite places to be. For most of my life I’ve been trying to be some other place then where I actually am.
But where I am right now….. I love it.

I love being in my twenties! I love, love finally feeling comfortable with who I am and who I am becoming. I love that my family and friends are the most incredible people in the world and I am lucky enough to have them in MY life.
I love that it’s okay to pretend like I’m still a kid and dance till five in the morning and also pretend like I’m a grown-up and teach teenagers all day in an incredible school that I absolutely adore.

I love that life is what you make it. Some things are handed to you, the things you never planned on…..and maybe hate, but it’s still up to you as to what you do with what you’re given.

Life is one sweet gift and I want to enjoy it. Well I’ll at least enjoy it for the next 16 days….. until I have PMS again and hate you all and hate my life and write an entry on how nothing matters. Kidding, it’s not that bad. I’ll reread this entry and try to balance myself out!

For now….. I love watching football and getting pedicures. I love hiking and silence. I love loud music and parties. I don’t like most babies but I would die for my baby nephew, he’s a little gem. I don’t like Chinese food unless my Dad makes it. I love riding my bike, but that 75 miles last summer was a bit much. I wish I could sing. I love laughing, making others laugh, and remembering how funny my brother was. I love pretending like I have time for writing when I have so much work to do. I love pools and the sun!
It’s so fun to be able to just be myself! It’s liberating.

Sunday, September 23, 2007

I didn't go to school


When your home schooled one of many things you never learn is what is or isn’t socially acceptable. Apparently being in a home school band is not something you should be proud of doing in middle school AND high school. I was very proud of my long term commitment and my bands success.

No one makes fun of you when your home schooled. Come on….. who is going to make fun of you, your mom, well that’s just sad on a whole different level if that happens.

So this home school band was pretty serious. We were very confident kids, all very proud of our flutes, trombones, French horns, and baritones. For some reason being in the band was ‘cool’ in our home school circles. (The definition of cool is completely different when you’re taught at home.) Now that I look back I see that if our parents told us it was great, I guess we just believed them. We didn’t exactly have much to compare it to.
As a home schooled kid you are free to define what is socially acceptable because you’re only competing with your siblings and chances are they are just as socially challenged as you are.
So the band….. my brother, Darin, and I were in the band. The band was full of kids who stayed at home with thier moms all day and everyone was equally awesome. I must say that is one good thing about not going to school…… you do get an incredible sense of self-confidence.
My self-confidence was built partly from being in the band. I later met people who lost all self confidence because they were in band. Too bad.

We wore matching blue golf shirts that said ‘Tri-state home school and community band’ and we were proud of that. Band concerts were a huge deal. I wonder if it was just because we got to hang out with other human beings that didn’t have our same last name. Whatever the reason, concerts brought those home school vans and buses together. There is some kind of agreement that if your home schooled you have to have a minimum of four children. That’s right, most of us learned how to drive in a mini van or if a twelve man van was all your family had, well that’s what you learned on.
During the concerts all the fans would rock out in the front row. My older sister knew most of the songs because she was a huge fan and had to listen to the band songs being practiced daily by a flute and a trombone.
Parents must have invented ear plugs.
After each concert we had a little social hour. This might have been created to assist in social exposure.
Honestly I didn’t learn what society and Allure magazine thought was a “YES” or a ‘NO” until I was about sixteen or seventeen. I had all those years to decide for myself what was cool. Apparently matching your clothes is important…….I’m kidding I did learn that at some point before I was sixteen, maybe I was fifteen when I mastered that. Well mastering is probably not the word I should use, thats too strong.
One of the reasons I think my parents wanted to home school the four of us is to allow us to become who we really were meant to be without outside sources telling us what we should or shouldn’t become or like or do. I would say that goal was accomplished. Yes, accomplished by sacrificing many other things, but accomplished.

I wonder who I would have become had I been sent to school. I had a rock shining kit so I can’t imagine I’d be the home coming queen. Maybe I would have joined the science club and at that point would have learned I shouldn’t have done that, for social reasons of course.
I wore a bathing suit I homemade so I might not have been the trend setter for the school and I would have probably learned it is best of buy bathing suits and that sort of thing. It’s really not any home school kids’ faults for wearing bonnets. Laura Ingles Wilder did and if you’re studying about her in your living room, why not try and dress like her. Generally in the twenty-first century bonnets are worn only by babies, not ten and eleven year olds. Again, no one tells you if its not okay. Your friends are studying Davy Crocket and probably just homemade their fur hats and you all wear them to the home school band concert. It just makes sense in the home school world.
Being whoever you want to be and having the freedom to figure it out without anyone telling you how they think you should be is probably the very best thing a person can get out of home school life. The list of things a kid “misses” out on is really endless but I do think that missing out on getting made fun of is great. I am now in my twenties and if someone doesn’t like me or thinks I’m annoying or just doesn’t want to be my friend my life is not shattered.
I remember the first time someone told me that someone didn’t like me. I’m sure people in the past someone didn’t like me but somehow I never actually knew someone to not like me until I was twenty-four and one of my very best friends, also a home schooled kid, told me her husband’s cousin didn’t like me. It shook my world a little bit because I didn’t know why you just choose to not like someone.
If there was one thing I could change about school, being a teacher now and all and seeing what kids do to each other, I would want to change the respect level. I don’t know when kids learn that it’s ok to make fun of someone just because they aren’t like you. Or they make fun of each other for being like them, a poser.
It is such a sad sad thing.

I tried to cook


My friend Rebecca was in town the other night and so a few of us went out to eat at one of our favorite restaurants, Life Café. We ate outside and drank and laughed and caught up about life. It was fun.
We all went back to my apartment. Rebecca asked Bekah if she would give her a haircut. Of course Bekah would, she loves cutting hair and we are all so very grateful cause she’s so so good at it!
Since I’m not a hair dresser I thought it would be fun to put an apple strudel in the oven to cook while Bekah and Rebecca did the hair thing. When I say “put an apple strudel in the oven” that is all I mean. It was frozen. All we did was pre-heat the oven, put it on a cookie sheet, and bake it for the appropriate time. Easy.
The apple situation was in the oven for about 10 minute when it started creating smoke, a lot of smoke. We decided to open the two windows in my apartment to let the smoke out and maybe cool the place down since we turned the oven to 450 degrees when it already felt like 200 degrees naturally.
The smoke increased and our fire alarm went off. We opened my front door. The alarm in the hallway of my apartment went off. We took the apple treat out of the oven and rearranged it so the syrupy stuff in the apple strudel would quit dripping and making so much noise from the hallway and living room alarms.
We got the fire alarms to quiet down and finished cooking our dessert. The hair cut was done. We had a lot less smoke in the apartment and were ready to enjoy the dessert.
We hear a really loud knock on our door. The three of us just start laughing; it’s a natural defense mechanism. Laughter doesn’t get enough credit. It’s such a great thing. I answered the door to find four big firefighters, the one facing me was holding an ax, yes, an ax.....without any az cover.
“Have you been cooking?” said the firefighter with ax.
Unfortunately we had been “cooking” (if that’s what you call putting a frozen dessert in the oven) I had to answer “yes”. “It smells like Chinese food” one of the men without an ax but with a tank of oxygen stated. “That must have been from the people who lived here before us cause we obviously don’t know how to cook” Bekah said. The firemen, in all there gear and more sweat then I would like to remember, just smiled and gave a little chuckle.
“Do you want some apple dessert guys. We are really, really sorry about making you come out here.” I said, while I was still kind of laughing.
“Just wait for your bill from the Mayor”. The one with the ax said. I would have said that too, it looked heavy and he carried it all for no reason AND it was like 200 degrees out that Aug night. They didn’t want any of the dessert I offered them and I don’t blame them, it smelled like a chard apple.
We closed the door and burst into laughter. The front window in my apartment faces the street and we saw the fire truck lights and looked out to see the truck and the fire ladder up and extended real close to our window.
Oops.
Well at least we know we've got great NYC fire fighters!!!!
This just goes to prove that we are all becoming better New Yorkers cause we didn’t even notice the fire truck or sirens outside the window.

Being off track might be the best place to be


Plans are to show how unpredictable life really is. I teach in Brooklyn. I’m supposed to be teaching in an orphanage in India. I decided that when I was seven. I solidified my plans when I was fourteen and raised four thousands dollars to “work” in India for a month. If you can call doing dramas that don’t make sense for people that have never seen white people any sort of “work”. Then yes, I worked in India. Anyone who was raised in a charismatic church and went on a mission trip might understand what I went through, what I experienced.
After high school I went to college to get my degree in ESL so I could actually help the people in India, instead of doing dramas and confusing them about the western culture and Christianity in general. Along with looking stupid. I didn’t care about looking stupid when I was fourteen. I of course didn’t think I was stupid at the time. I thought I was the shit for visiting India and doing dramas in villages.
So after college, I had my ESL/Linguistic degree in hand, I bought a ticket to Europe to backpack and sleep outside. This was not part of my plan. It’s not the plan I had mounted on my wall and laminated. Kidding, I’m not that socially inapt. I love plans. But I love canceling my plans even more then making them. Anyway it wasn’t the plan to hike around Europe. But I did it and am so glad I did.
A childhood friend, who also dressed up and did dramas to confuse third world natives, moved to New York City and told me she loved it. I applied for a job in NYC after getting back from backpacking and only having three weeks before school started. So with two weeks to spare I got this city teaching job and moved to NYC.
This is not part of the plan.
I started teaching in Brooklyn in the Fall. My life was now really getting off track.
New York broke me. It has played a huge part in who I am today. How grateful I am that I am so far off track from my plan.