Rules and Choices

"The choices that we make dictate the person that we become." My Mother used to say that and since it is so very somber, I'm sure she stole it from someone else. My Aubelita used to say, "Show me your friends and I will show you who you are." Originally it was said in Spanish but for the benefit of my reading audience I didn't try to spout out my bad Spanish memory. There are certain laws that all people must live by, and that no amount of persuasion will ever allow them to cease. These laws would include the law of gravity, the law of sobriety, and the mortal man's curse. You see where I am going with this.
This weekend one of my dearest friends was in a car accident involving a drunken driver. Everyone of the five people in the car survived and they are relatively uninjured (a black eye, one damaged spinal cord, and one broken arm), but they are survive. I won't examine what they were thinking but will instead examine my choices following my knowledge of the event.
At first I was shocked- my family will attest that I sat there, holding whatever small child would allow me to squeeze them, picturing the events over and over again in my head. Every single time they all ended up dead. Then I moved into fear. "They should all be dead now" continuously played over in my mind followed by, "I could've lost you forever." Then I got angry. I won't replay what I thought at this point because I'm sure anyone's imagination should have sufficient explatives to understand what I was feeling. Then I got stuck, I spent the larger portion of yesterday being angry, and steadily getting angrier and angrier. Finally God intervened and sent me Sasha, who managed to get me past that (still not sure how) and now I've moved into acceptance and, dare I say it, gratefulness.

Choices- at least one person in that car did not make a good decision that night and forgiveness will be a long time coming for me.
Rules- death is forever.
Choices- I have issues with losing people suddenly.
Rules- if any one of those people had died that morning, everyone at the university would be beyond comfort and in many case, scarred for life.
Choices- I will have a hard time forgiving any one who drives drunk in the future.
Rules- gravity is a real downer.
Choices- drunkeness is a real downer too.

Tali if you're reading this, I want you to know that I love you and I am very grateful that I get the opportunity to tell you this. I am very grateful that God gave me the chance to tell you this and I pray that He will always protect you. I am forever in the debt of your guardian Angel and I am so very happy that I didn't lose you. I know I speak for everyone who has ever met you when I say this.

The Continued Adventures of My Continued Education

This past week and half has been very exciting for me so in order to set hte record straight I thought it best to clear it up here. As some of you may have heard, last Thursday I got a call from my school, Texas Teachers for Alternate Teaching Certificates for the State of Texas, asking me to call them back. On Friday the greater Austin area was closed because of snow warning. On Monday I finally reached them where I was informed that I was no longer a student at their fine insitution because they believed that the university where I had gotten my BA was unaccredited at the time of my graduation. Me being the quiet, passive girl that I am, immediately called my university and they (fortunately) immediately started calling people and fixed the problem by Tuesday. Unfortunately for me the lady handling the whole issue never got to work on time and took extra long lunches. Consequently, it took many, many days to get in contact with her. Finally Friday I got everything sorted and was accepted back into the program with two minor issues- 1, I missed an important week of class, 2, I hadn't done anything but play phone tag all week. Answer to problems, scream. It seemed like a good idea at the time. Stay tuned for the continued adventures of my continued adventure. Monday, I get to call them and try and schedule a time for me to make up this class time, because the makeup date is in two months sandwiched between my family reunion and my college buddies wedding.

Lost in Neverland

I make no secret that my favorite book ever written, from Crime and Punishment to Persuasion, from Blue Castle to Dracula, my favorite favorite book is Peter Pan. James Barrie was known for his outlandish ideas that captured children in his spell. I've read the book at least three dozen times, not to mention all the sequels and fan fiction on it. I've even taken to reading the Tinkerbell books. I admit as a child I had a huh-uge crush on Peter and it will be no surprise to anyone who knew me then that I constantly dreamed of flying off to Never Neverland. If I ever have a son (and an understanding, unjealous husband) I intend to name him Peter.



This past week I watched the Disney classic with the kids and for the first time I began to understand why I was so drawn to the story. It wasn't because Peter could fly or that he battled pirates or that he made friends with mermaids (although all of those reasons might've been), but for the first time in my life I realized how much my life paralled Wendy's.



Let me point out that I never liked Wendy. Or maybe I was just extremely jealous of her- she had the chance to never grow up and instead she chose to (for the record, I'm not sure what I would choose if given the choice), but I digress. Wendy was the leader of her many brothers. Though she loved them, she often felt surrounded by them and didn't necessarily enjoy behaving like a girl. She was very fond of her dog and she often told stories. She loved her parents more than anything, even when her father didn't understand her and didn't know how to understand. She adopted the lost boys without question and enjoyed playing their mother. The culmination of her dreams coming true resulted in Peter whisking her away to Neverland but when she finally had everything she wanted- Peter, Neverland, unceasing childhood, and the adventure of a life time- she realized she had to go back and grow up. Are we noticing some similiarities here? I hope you do.



Wendy's brothers are her best friends whom she confides the most important thing in her life- Peter Pan. Her Mother is her biggest fan and though she doesn't always understand she is always supportive. Her Father sometimes masquerades as the villain in Neverland, but he's also her hero. Tinker Belle represents that feminine prankster that I find innate in all women, and in some ways I think that though Tinker Belle is jealous of Wendy, Wendy is also jealous of Tinker Belle. Peter is the delusion that holds my attention the most. He is the youthful, innocent love- of boys, of childhood, of the impossible happening. Peter is the first boy she ever loved and will always be there, somewhere in her dreams and imagination, but he will never be the man that she needs.

Maybe Peter Pan is everyones story- we all have to be grown ups some time, but the few lucky among us, never have to grow up.

Just when do you sleep?

So another month has flown by and despite my lengthy list of google calendar emails set up to remind me to actually do my life, I somehow forgot to add "write in blog" to the list. However, "clean out Bennie", "work out", and "Call your Mother" did manage to make it onto the email reminders list (note to self: add "schedule social life" to calendar.)
It seems that every month that passes brings about another big change in my life. Last month was "begin school again." NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!! Seven months of freedom I have enjoyed only to be blighted out by the return of *gasp* SCHOOL to learn how to TEACH!!!! Which means MORE SCHOOL!!!!!
As a side note, last night my class seemed to be centered around "think positive, be positive, and be organized." The more they grilled this into my head the more I kept thinking, "Gee, I wonder if Dr. Barr EVER taught that way." His non-sentimental, cynicism in the classroom seems to have been ingrained into my skull as the BEST way to teach because I don't think I worked harder for any of my teachers than for him, largely because he was un-impressable, but I digress.
Today I broke my all time record at the Early Learning Center and took care of seven different classes, ranging in age from ten months to ten years. For the last few hours of my work day I was put in a classroom with mainly four-year-olds. Consequently, I got to finally talk to some of the teachers from that corner of the building. They are more my age and seem to be more my style of people so I was very, very, very excited for this move.
One of the teachers and I got to talking and after a while it came out that I have three jobs, am going to school part time, along with various other time consuming activities in my life. Now this is a working mother of two, wife to one, very busy red head so it surprised me when she stopped me to say, "So just when exactly do you sleep?" My response: "Oh I sleep a lot... I just don't have much of a social life." Mwahahahaa! I lied. Your guess is as good as mine as to which one it was.

What It Actually Said

Few people understand why I am usually in a good mood, and even fewer know why. The simple truth is that I am dyslexic (joy). Consequently I read things wrong all the time. This usually makes me laugh as I recheck what I read and compare the two. Thus I create "WHAT IT ACTUALLY SAID"

It said "PSM Pantry"
I read "PMS Pantry"

(It made way more sense to donate to that one.)

What he said "Soccer for life."
What I heard "Sucker for life."

What it said was "Royal Port Rush Drive"

What I read was "Royal Pain Push By"



What she said was "Better to be a little over dressed than a little underdressed."
What I heard was "Better to be a little over dressed than a little undressed."



What it said was "Loveless sinners"

What I read was "Lifeless suckers"

What he said "Salve mundi."
What I heard "Salty Monday."

What it said "Excorcising demons"
What I read was "Excercising demons."

What it said was "The catchiest song"

What I read was "The catechesis song"

What's better is I blinked and read "The catiest song"

What is in a name?

Given that it's been a long time since I last posted I figured now was as good a time as any. That and I'm procrastinating about cleaning my room. Some of you may know that a few days before Christmas I started my latest job- assistant teacher at an early learning center about two blocks away from my house. I like my commute.
Anyways, due to my new position I have an unique perspective on life- to see what parents think (or rather, don't think) of when naming their little bundle of joy. Maybe it's a sign of the times but should I be worried that most of my kids have names of characters from movies that came out a little before they were born?
In the three classes that I've taught I've had at least one Isabella or Bella in every single class. My first class had three. My current class has only one but there are only three girls. Please note- there are no children named Edward. However there are two Jacobs. For this reason I now believe that Texas is Team Jacob.
Initially that was going to be my entire blog post except for some snide comment on parents making unique names by misspelling common names like "Karizma" or "Caiden" until I got the newest students in my class.
The first is named Jack- yes, there are Disney fans even in Texas- I have want to call him Captain.
The other little boy is named Hunter. I thought this was a particularly boring name... until I realized that every single day Hunter wears camo... camo jacket... camo pants... camo hat... camo shoes... I didn't even know they made those... and camo shirt. It is one thing to name your child after your weekend obsession... it is another thing to make it the theme of his life and wardrobe. Poor kid. What's better is he's got a unique issue with meat- as in, he hates eating it. Again, poor kid.
P.S. Hunter wore a shirt today that says "You call it a mascot.... we call it a hamburger."

Winter in Texas

So I've finally admitted that autumn is over and winter is finally upon us and my first impression of the state may have worn off. With the changing of the seasons I still love my second home but I must say there are a few observations that I feel must be reported. I don't know how my Mother ever managed the changing of the seasons in California but the abrupt, yet welcome drop in temperature has been.... special. Christmas decorations are flying up (sometimes more literally than figuratively), it takes us at least seven minutes to dress every individual child for the weather, leaves are migrating into the house with every little person's step, Jim get's out every time a door is left open, and the baby's breath has become special to say the least. With all this cheerfulness it's hard to stay sober... er, I meant somber. This will be my first Christmas away from my parents and brothers and sister; as happy as I am to be here, I sometimes get caught up with the fact that there are people who aren't here... that normally are. I just want you to know that I miss you, I wish you were here, but I feel like I'm supposed to be here now. Don't feel neglected- just remember that in everything I do, I am most CERTAINLY my Father's daughter... but I promise not to marry a guy who doesn't speak your language or your culture... or join the seminary for ten years.

The Patriot's Wife

As some of you may have heard by now, I spent a few days in Virginia with my nearest and dearest friend. While there we did a whirlwind tour of some of the closer historical sites including Colonial Williamsberg and Monticello. Due to this I got on a giant history kick (I know, it's not that far for me to go) and while there I started writing this song. It's told from the perspective of Abigail Adams and actually has some relevancy from some of her actual letters but are not her actual words. I need feedback. I'm aware it's cheesy. A bridge will be coming soon.

A knock at the door around four am
And by now I know that it won't be long
Our children will be up soon but it will be too late
And I'll have to say that you have gone
You kiss me before you go and reassure me that you'll be missing me
And you'll write when you get through to Boston
As you turn to go you ask if there is anything I need
And I pray you won't be long gone
But I can't say the words that will hurt you
Because your cause is to both of us dear

I want you to stay
Why do you have to go away?
I need you to stay
Let the world right itself today
You know that I'll always be faithful to you
And I want you to know you still hold my heart too
So why do you have to go away? Away
Oh why do you need to leave me again
You're my best friend, my dearest friend
But I won't ask you to stay

As you left you couldn't meet my eyes so you didn't see my tears
You never saw my strength or my hidden fears
Fourteen months is too long for you to be away
Our children have almost grown while you were away
Your letters are all I have so don't you dare stop writing me
Let me know you're safe in London
Send me pins for your dearest lover please
And keep yourself for your ever devoted
But I won't say the words that coudl hurt you
Because the truth is the worst for you to hear

But I want you to stay
Why do you still go away?
I need you to stay
Let the world change itself today
You know that I'll always be faithful you
And our children send all their love now to you
But why must you stay away? Away
Oh why do you need to leave me again?
You're my best friend, my dearest friend
But I can't ask you to stay

Fare thee well, good bloggers

As some of you may know from various other forms of communication, much has been altered in my life of late. Soon I will be made godmother (again) to one of my female cousins. My last day at the worst job I've ever had is fast approaching and so I am filling out many new applications. I am going to Virginia to visit my best friend for a week. And in one more addition to my very busy lifestyle, I am writing NaNo WriMo. For those of you who are not familiar with this, let me explain. The idea is to put aside the month of November and write a few thousand words every day put towards a book that (theoretically anyways) might be finished in one month- hence National Novel Writing Month. It's a great scheme and along with all the other great changes in my life, the weather is changing and I'm making cookies today. Due to all these changes I am taking a sabatical from my much neglected blog. I will write one more post before I give it up for the month but don't expect any fabulous discussions for a while. I'll miss you.

Just a Thought: Questionable Morality in Cartoons

Over the past few weeks I have watched more Disney short films than I think I have watched since... er, well... forgive the pun but since I was short. This means lots and lots of music by the Andrews Sisters and even more Donald Duck. Between the Three Caballeros cast, Chip & Dale vs. Donald, and the Mickey Mouse gang, Donald is easily the most reviewed character. What entertains me even more is that Donald, although not a bad person, is usually the butt of the joke and frequently plays the bad guy. Now I'd be the first to say that slapstick humor would be bereft if it were not... well... slapping people and if it's gotta slap someone I'm all for hitting the duck. I don't much care for ducks... or geese. And let's face it anything that WADDLES like that deserves to be dinner. I'd also like to point out that much of my dislike for geese and ducks is a childhood incident in which I was feeding them bread and they decided to attack me.


Okay, back to my point. I'd like to stress that I don't in point of fact hate Donald. Sure I don't like him all that much but why do we as a theoretically mature society enjoy the pain and suffering of Donald? Sure it's hilarious but don't we teach our kids not to laugh at other people's misery? I mean I could be wrong- I think Home Alone is one of the funniest movies out there and the Marx Brothers should be knighted but I don't understand why it is okay to laugh at Donald's misery. Is it because he's loud and obnoxious. Or is it because he generally acts out in anger over things that shouldn't upset any normal person- like finding chipmunks in his Christmas tree, or being stuffed in a box, or continuously being forgotten in lew of Mickey Mouse. Oh wait, those are all things that would upset me. Maybe it's because he tends to act without patience and poise which are considered immature. Again, I'm struck with how often those characteristics describe me. Now it's just a thought, but maybe we don't like him because we see our own flaws in him? Isn't that the main reason why we don't get along with others; because we are too similar? She's too bossy. He's not very organized. Perhaps if we looked closer we could see the virtue in being similar as well as being different. Yet again, it's just a thought.