On a Snowy Afternoon

I hate this weather. I seriously do. I look out the window here at the Starbuck's and all I see is the heavy flakes of a witner that is encroaching. But it isn't heavy enough to clog the streets and give me the break I so need from working. No, it's just enough to annoy, and seriously, that is what it's doing. Annoying me.

And annoyance, as i probably already stated, means that something else is bothering me--I just can't put my fingers on it.

I think it is because I'm going through all of these life changes and rites of passage as of now but I cannot, for life of me, tell if they are what I am supposed to be doing. I'm a big believer in Fate. I equate the concept with God--in that, I cannot thinking that both have a plan that they are following and we are supposed to fall in line with. When Fate sends signals, its not because God wants me to know the path, but merely that I was attune enough to myself to read the symbols. Like this Florida stuff. I know I'm supposed to do something linked to Florida. Something. But am I supposed to go there? I just found out two of my coworkers are from the area I would like to find myself. Am I supposed to connect with them?

I wish, in my heart, I really could send an email. An emial to someone who would know. Some sifu or teacher or someone who has already reached a pinnicle and has soemthing to show for it. Someone like Oprah or George Clooney or even the President. I'd love to ask,"hey, what signs did you see? Or were there times when you were like...am I doing this right?"

That, in and of itself would provide me with volumes of information. That email would make it to a clear-view bulletin board so I can refer back and say, "SEE, you're not a total idiot!

"Just mostly one."

Until that time, I'll stick to meditating.

I ask this because a very obvious sign came to me. My husband and I LOVE the Space Coast. That is a place where we'd love to live and die. I applied for a teaching postion there, and was shafted by a cold hearted office assitant.

"Can you be here for an interview tomorrow?" The manx questioned, knowing full well i was in Colorado.

I was turned off the prospect of working there. If that was the kind individual they'd hire to answer thier phones, I could only imagine what else she was smoking.

So I shut down that blue chapter and went on living. I was saddened, to be sure.

And then, out of the blue...an email from the school district. They had all of my information for that district and I could now apply for positions. Not that there was any.

The door opened again. Why now? It was creepy.

But was it a sign?

I'm not a boss

I can't figure it out. I love my new job, I really do, but there is an aspect that is driving me zonkers.

I'm a boss.

Now, let's think about this, I teach children. One would think, with the supreme idiocy on the loose out there today, reining in adults would be a breeze. But the fact is, I have only read one management book: Mutiny on the Bounty. Beyond that, I've zero skills.

And I act more like their friend than their boss. I have the hardest time with that distance. I cannot do that. It is not the way I work. I see everyone as fully as I can. I've taken pride in that. It explains the success I have with my students, frequently. I know they are people with likes and dislikes and it would be silly for me to see them as cardboard cut-outs. Grant you, my government wants me to not care any more. That way, they can give their friends lucrative contracts, destory unions and earn more cash than everyone. And if they can disinfrancise use, sobeit.

Thanks Emperor Bush.

But I will continue to care, so help me.

it I do the same for my coworkers. I think of vets in war. No, not the kinds carrying kittens in trenches, but the kind wearing unflattering greens in the desert. They experience something unique between themselves and their units. How can they come back to reality and drop that.

I experience something unique with my coworkers. We all suffer the same amount of stressor in that classroom. How am I supposed to be above that? No. I can't tell them what to do. I ask. And I will continue to do so. But it's punishing really. I really, really like this job. I'd like to hold onto it, but this one thing is really weighing on my heart. I want those three people to be content enough to go to work. I need them to be. And I need to serve my students as well.

I hate it. I bring this up because my question for today was to think about a group project. Do I like to do them?

Fuck no. I've hated group projects and it only got worse. Teachers know about multiple intelligences. Yet they are seemingly the last to do use them. So I'm totally fucked in high school, undergrad and graduate school. I had to meet with others, usually off campus, to 'discuss.' We'd all decide to give each other A's. I hated it. Sure, I'd give ole lazy douchesnoozle an A, but I'd give myself a bad grade. I hated having to rate others who are more or less my supposed peers.

On the multiple intelligences, I was what was labeled 'self-smart.' Not people smart. Let them go get together. Let them party with their badass selves.

One wound i still have is one stupid project working for an 'ad' campaign. it was stupid from the start. It was all about money. How we could save money for college.

First off, when Mom and Dad are paying for a majority of students at the private school, do you think the froshlings care? whatever, the 'group' decided, and I was only one vote.

Moving on...I had to someone show enthusiasm for saving money on college, my last sememster of senior year. Thrillsville. But for the group I had to play along. I suppose this was training for real life. My group even asked if I'd do some articles for the school newspaper and for a local paper I wrote for. I did.

Then they got mad at me...because my articles were inaccurate. They had refused to proof what I wrote. But, boy, did they turn on me when I didn't do as they commanded.

I hate group projects.

And it's gotten worse over the years.

What's really bad? I realzied a chunk of that is borne out of my own social fears. Yea. I have them. And it has become more pronounced over the years. Perhaps it is from years of just seeing people pissing me off...and trying to really believe they are people. And getting more and more discouraged that, well, I cannot feel safe any more around adults I don't trust. I trust kids a bit more...they don't know any better.

That's two comments in one week. Good job.

What's your favorite color?

I suppose there is ome truth in this-some belief that people who like certain things like other certain things equally. It would make sense. Colors have long been linked to symbols of emotion, and since they are equivalent in some cultures, well, there you have it. The importance of stating your like your favorite color.

However, as I have grown older, the colors have changed. I'm not as to why. There was a time, when everything had to be blue, including my Slurpee. I couldn't eat raspberries in real life, but dang, I loved my blue razzberry lollipops. But, once, as I got older, i found a green sweater that cut me a better view and I noticed, I kinda like green a bit.

And no one held me to it. No one beat me up for liking both green and blue. I was into both and there was nothing. No violence, no color-guard to make me like one color.

What I did notice, however was a natural drawing to a specific spectrum. Blues, green and blacks tended to naturally pull my eyes to them. It wasn't until I was older that I got the picture. They had something in common.

The sea. The colors of the ocean. I loved their restful waves, their friendly apporach. My colors were now not a decision, but something that developed organically and wholly.

I like it over the pink triangle--a vulgar reminder of a days we should avoid thinking about frequently.