It's been some time since I've posted anything on this blog. It's actually kind of funny because it seems almost like yesterday I was writing out some long post, even if the details seem kind of fuzzy. A lot has happened in the past few months, despite a few months not being very long at all. For some reason I cant seem to put my finger on, I feel like more has happened to me in the last five months than has happened to me in the majority of my life. I disowned my father, lost the man I loved, was betrayed by the woman who birthed me, went through a stint of homelessness, was taken in by my best friend and her family for a time, was kicked out by that same family and blamed for marital problems that existed far before i came along, went through another stint of homelessness, got a good paying job, was fired from another job for some stupid reason or another, and had my heart broken all over again by that same man I lost.
Putting it in to a list like that makes me wonder how all of it could have possibly happened in such a short time. I mean there have been so many other little experienced peppered in between those big ones. Some things I have been proud of, some things I might be ashamed to admit to some people, and other things that are just things that don't go either way. An innumerable amount of experiences have been packed into these last few months, and yet, it seems like it all happened in just a few blinks.
Frankly I'm amazed that I've been able to cope as well as I have, what with everything that has gone on. I shudder to think what would have happened to me has these things happened a year ago. I've become a lot stronger than I ever thought I could be in terms of my mind and my emotions. I've weathered things that would have driven me insane a year ago, and here I stand, a bit jaded and only slightly worse for wear.
At the moment I'm just sort of coasting. I keep myself busy in order to pass the time. I work five days a week, nine hours a day, and volunteer three days a week, a few hours a day. I try to keep some semblance of a social life and I find myself becoming much more active in the gay community. I think I've finally reached the point of acceptance; acceptance of my growth from child to adult, acceptance of my break up with the man I loved, and most importantly acceptance of myself.
I may not be as happy as I have ever been, but my self-confidence is higher than it has ever been. I finally view myself as more than just some kid who flits from one clique to another because he never really fits in to anywhere. I'm making my own way through life and I'm finally comfortable in my own skin. I may be uneasy about my future but I'm finally done avoiding it. It's time to grow up, and I think I'm finally ready.
Sunday, October 23, 2011
Monday, July 11, 2011
Hope
I had always wondered why most people had a morbid fascination with disaster and destruction. Thousand will gather to watch the demolition of a building. While the coroner cleans up the remains of a body from a car accident people will drive by slowly, itching to glance at the deceased. When executions were public, you were considered unfashionable if you weren’t watching as the guillotine sliced through a criminal’s neck. As long as our species has been around we’ve flocked toward all things morbid. Even the religious will say the hooker deserved her death as they crowd around for a closer look at her freshly discovered corpse.
I suppose the generations born in the last forty years can claim they have a reason for their macabre minds. Death, destruction and all things gruesome have become so main stream in the world that we’ve become desensitized to such things. These days, when we drive past a fatal car accident more often than not we’ll think, tsk, tsk, they shouldn’t have been texting. Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to have lived in simpler times, where such things were taboo and altogether kept unseen. Words like murder, rape, killing, drugs, heart failure and cancer were spoken in hushed tones as if saying them quietly would keep such things away from ourselves and those we love.
Then I realize that, despite how desensitized we’ve become, we’ve also come a long way from those days in terms of science, medicine, education, and human rights. Although there are still people clinging to the ways of old, people who think that interracial relationships shouldn’t occur, that evolution just simply doesn’t exist, women should remain in the kitchen and that men should only be with women and vice versa, the majority of people have opened their minds to such concepts and have accepted it as the norm. Certainly we still have more to learn, more to accept and more to grow, but in contrast to how we used to be, we’ve become so much better.
Most of the time I think the human race is without hope. All that we ever hear about is death, destruction, and advances in violence. However, sometimes people surprise me in their kindness. Just the other day I was visiting my grandmother’s grave, something I haven’t done in too long. Once again I just didn’t think about bringing flowers for her. While I sat there, talking to her, missing her, and feeling guilty for not brining anything, I was approached by an older woman. With nothing but kindness on her face, she handed me a bouquet of flowers, no doubt extras left over from what she brought her own deceased family member or friend, and told me to leave them on the grave I was visiting. “No grave should be without flowers, especially on a holiday.” With a smile and kind eyes she walked away and to her car.
It amazed me that anyone could be so kind. It was true that I was already in tears from how much I missed my grandmother, but new tears flowed because of that kind woman. They were tears of happiness and hope to the world. Though part of me still dreads the future of the human race, a new part of me is excited to see how far we will go, to see if we’ll evolve past the horrors of now.
I suppose the generations born in the last forty years can claim they have a reason for their macabre minds. Death, destruction and all things gruesome have become so main stream in the world that we’ve become desensitized to such things. These days, when we drive past a fatal car accident more often than not we’ll think, tsk, tsk, they shouldn’t have been texting. Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to have lived in simpler times, where such things were taboo and altogether kept unseen. Words like murder, rape, killing, drugs, heart failure and cancer were spoken in hushed tones as if saying them quietly would keep such things away from ourselves and those we love.
Then I realize that, despite how desensitized we’ve become, we’ve also come a long way from those days in terms of science, medicine, education, and human rights. Although there are still people clinging to the ways of old, people who think that interracial relationships shouldn’t occur, that evolution just simply doesn’t exist, women should remain in the kitchen and that men should only be with women and vice versa, the majority of people have opened their minds to such concepts and have accepted it as the norm. Certainly we still have more to learn, more to accept and more to grow, but in contrast to how we used to be, we’ve become so much better.
Most of the time I think the human race is without hope. All that we ever hear about is death, destruction, and advances in violence. However, sometimes people surprise me in their kindness. Just the other day I was visiting my grandmother’s grave, something I haven’t done in too long. Once again I just didn’t think about bringing flowers for her. While I sat there, talking to her, missing her, and feeling guilty for not brining anything, I was approached by an older woman. With nothing but kindness on her face, she handed me a bouquet of flowers, no doubt extras left over from what she brought her own deceased family member or friend, and told me to leave them on the grave I was visiting. “No grave should be without flowers, especially on a holiday.” With a smile and kind eyes she walked away and to her car.
It amazed me that anyone could be so kind. It was true that I was already in tears from how much I missed my grandmother, but new tears flowed because of that kind woman. They were tears of happiness and hope to the world. Though part of me still dreads the future of the human race, a new part of me is excited to see how far we will go, to see if we’ll evolve past the horrors of now.
Thursday, May 26, 2011
Looking for a great place to smoke hookah in Vegas?
Then look no further. The Red Hookah Lounge on Tropicana and Pecos, in the Tropicana Cinemas parking lot, is the right one for you. Tired of going to other places that claim to be lounges, but blast music so loud you can’t even hear yourself think, let alone have an actual conversation with friends? Tired of the same old bland menu of flavors you deal with every time you go to a normal lounge? Let Red Hookah solve that problem for you. It’s one of the few lounges in town that has a comfortable atmosphere that fosters conversation and friendship. And, with a menu of 120+ single flavors and specialty mixtures, you’re sure to have new things to try for a long time to come.
Boasting an experienced and helpful staff, Red Hookah Lounge is there to ensure that you have the best possible time smoking hookah. You’ll never leave unhappy. Though it doesn’t seem large at first glance, the lounge contains a large room of ten different tables, as well as six VIP rooms for those groups that want a little privacy.
Now, I bet you’re thinking that in order to get all of this, you’d be paying quite a pretty penny. The best thing about all this is that it’s also one of the cheapest places in town to smoke. With single flavors at only $15 and most mixes at $20, you won’t be paying an arm and a leg just to have a good time. As well, for groups, Red Hookah Lounge has an excellent special running. For $10 a person, depending on the size of the group, you can get up to six single flavored hookahs! Or, if you so choose, you can combine any two to make any mix you want, or get a mix off of the menu.
Red Hookah Lounge is by far the best choice for great atmosphere, beautiful decoration, and excellent hookah. Stop on by to give them a try! I can assure you that you won’t be disappointed.
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
Last Night's Episode of Glee
Now, for those of you who don't know, I am an avid follower of the show Glee. Originally I began watching it because I did choir for twelve years, and I wanted to see how Fox would interpret the blood, sweat and tears shed during rehearsals and performances. As well, I wanted to see how they would incorporate the drama involved in choir. Many people don't think about this, but when you throw a group of teenagers in a room together and have them bare their hearts and souls out in front of one another, drama is going to happen.
Anyways, none of that matters right now. The reason I continued to watch Glee was because of a few key story points. First; Karofsky, the school bully, and Kurt, the only openly gay kid at the school. There was drama there and a lot of potential for an excellent plot arc. So far, though it's going slowly, things are looking up there.
The second was the character of Sue Selvester. She's the evil coach of the school's cheerleading squad. She has made it her life's goal to destroy the Glee club because they took away from her funding. Anyways, though she's a terrible person, we found out in the second or third season that she has a sister. Her sister lived in a nursing home and was born with Down Syndrome. Despite how she was to the rest of the world, there were a few scenes that showed how loving and caring she could be whenever her sister was involved. That was originally what made me love Sue.
If you watch Glee and have not seen last night's episode, I recommended that you don't read further. I will be posting spoilers that will ruin the episode for you.
In last night's episode, Sue's sister passed away due to a case of pneumonia. I know that, originally, when Sue first said something about it, many people thought she was saying it as part of an elaborate scheme to bring down the glee club. I, however, knew better, If there is anything Sue never jokes about, it's her sister. Eventually in the episode, Sue goes on to say that her sister caught a small case of pneumonia, but the doctors didn't think it was anything to worry about. They put her sister on antibiotics and said she'd be fine. The night of her death, Sue was with her sister. Her sister insisted that Sue go home to get some sleep. So, against her better judgement, Sue went home. At around 2 AM, only a couple of hours later, Sue got the call that her sister had passed away.
Immediately, I began tearing up. It wasn't necessarily because of the character's death or because of how it affected Sue. It was more because of how it resonated in my life. My grandmother passed away when I was thirteen. In an effort to give me a good day, my mother took me out to a movie after school and then to dinner. After dinner she told me the news that my grandmother was placed in a hospice. Immediately I was shocked. I knew what a hospice was, what it was for, and it just didn't make sense to me. My grandmother was a strong and powerful woman who kept on going no matter what. However, her stomach cancer had gotten the better of her. My mother took me to the hospice so I could see her. My grandmother was in a drug induced sleep so she wouldn't have to be in pain. She was sleeping more peacefully than I had ever seen her sleep. I wanted to stay, but my mom said that it was a school night so I needed to go get sleep. The next thing I remember is my mom waking me up and telling me that she passed away in her sleep. Even now I can feel tears welling up at the memory.
Later on in Glee, a distraught Sue agrees to let one of the kids in the club plan her sister's funeral. When the funeral rolls around, despite Sue's fears of having no one show up, the church was full of other patients in the nursing home, the staff, people who knew her, and all of their families. Surrounding the casket was large colorful mushrooms and green grass. Sue's sister's favorite movie, one that she had watched at least three times a week for thirty years, had been Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. Behind a veil, a small orchestra was playing a medley of music from the movie. Immediately upon seeing it, I began tearing up again, the memories of my grandmother's funeral coming to mind. Then Sue began her speech and I lost it. Tears flowed free as she tried to speak, but kept stopping because of her tears. The glee club director got up and finished her speech for her, and with every word that was said, I cried harder. It made me realize how, even today, I miss my grandmother so damn much. She was the rock in my life. She was the woman that practically raised me. I saw her every single day from basically the time I was born until her death.
After the speech, the Glee club sang a beautiful rendition of her sister's favorite song from the movie; Pure Imagination. It was so heartfelt and full of love. Despite all the hell Sue put them through, and believe me she did, they were still there for her in her time of need. As I'm laying in bed writing this, I'm listening to the snow globe I bought my grandmother when I was just a kid. After she died one of my relatives tried to throw it away, saying that it was just another knick knack she had collected over the years. I saved it because I knew it was something she had loved, something was me to her. The song it plays is Till the End of time. Though it was a song originally meant for lovers, I think the lyrics still stand. "Till the end of time, 'long as stars are in the blue, 'long as there's a spring, a bird to sing, I'll go on loving you."
I'll keep this snow globe until the day I die. It will always be visible no matter where I live. It will always remain a constant reminder of the woman I loved so dearly, of the woman who raised me, of the woman who shaped who I am, of the woman who I will miss forever.
Anyways, none of that matters right now. The reason I continued to watch Glee was because of a few key story points. First; Karofsky, the school bully, and Kurt, the only openly gay kid at the school. There was drama there and a lot of potential for an excellent plot arc. So far, though it's going slowly, things are looking up there.
The second was the character of Sue Selvester. She's the evil coach of the school's cheerleading squad. She has made it her life's goal to destroy the Glee club because they took away from her funding. Anyways, though she's a terrible person, we found out in the second or third season that she has a sister. Her sister lived in a nursing home and was born with Down Syndrome. Despite how she was to the rest of the world, there were a few scenes that showed how loving and caring she could be whenever her sister was involved. That was originally what made me love Sue.
If you watch Glee and have not seen last night's episode, I recommended that you don't read further. I will be posting spoilers that will ruin the episode for you.
In last night's episode, Sue's sister passed away due to a case of pneumonia. I know that, originally, when Sue first said something about it, many people thought she was saying it as part of an elaborate scheme to bring down the glee club. I, however, knew better, If there is anything Sue never jokes about, it's her sister. Eventually in the episode, Sue goes on to say that her sister caught a small case of pneumonia, but the doctors didn't think it was anything to worry about. They put her sister on antibiotics and said she'd be fine. The night of her death, Sue was with her sister. Her sister insisted that Sue go home to get some sleep. So, against her better judgement, Sue went home. At around 2 AM, only a couple of hours later, Sue got the call that her sister had passed away.
Immediately, I began tearing up. It wasn't necessarily because of the character's death or because of how it affected Sue. It was more because of how it resonated in my life. My grandmother passed away when I was thirteen. In an effort to give me a good day, my mother took me out to a movie after school and then to dinner. After dinner she told me the news that my grandmother was placed in a hospice. Immediately I was shocked. I knew what a hospice was, what it was for, and it just didn't make sense to me. My grandmother was a strong and powerful woman who kept on going no matter what. However, her stomach cancer had gotten the better of her. My mother took me to the hospice so I could see her. My grandmother was in a drug induced sleep so she wouldn't have to be in pain. She was sleeping more peacefully than I had ever seen her sleep. I wanted to stay, but my mom said that it was a school night so I needed to go get sleep. The next thing I remember is my mom waking me up and telling me that she passed away in her sleep. Even now I can feel tears welling up at the memory.
Later on in Glee, a distraught Sue agrees to let one of the kids in the club plan her sister's funeral. When the funeral rolls around, despite Sue's fears of having no one show up, the church was full of other patients in the nursing home, the staff, people who knew her, and all of their families. Surrounding the casket was large colorful mushrooms and green grass. Sue's sister's favorite movie, one that she had watched at least three times a week for thirty years, had been Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. Behind a veil, a small orchestra was playing a medley of music from the movie. Immediately upon seeing it, I began tearing up again, the memories of my grandmother's funeral coming to mind. Then Sue began her speech and I lost it. Tears flowed free as she tried to speak, but kept stopping because of her tears. The glee club director got up and finished her speech for her, and with every word that was said, I cried harder. It made me realize how, even today, I miss my grandmother so damn much. She was the rock in my life. She was the woman that practically raised me. I saw her every single day from basically the time I was born until her death.
After the speech, the Glee club sang a beautiful rendition of her sister's favorite song from the movie; Pure Imagination. It was so heartfelt and full of love. Despite all the hell Sue put them through, and believe me she did, they were still there for her in her time of need. As I'm laying in bed writing this, I'm listening to the snow globe I bought my grandmother when I was just a kid. After she died one of my relatives tried to throw it away, saying that it was just another knick knack she had collected over the years. I saved it because I knew it was something she had loved, something was me to her. The song it plays is Till the End of time. Though it was a song originally meant for lovers, I think the lyrics still stand. "Till the end of time, 'long as stars are in the blue, 'long as there's a spring, a bird to sing, I'll go on loving you."
I'll keep this snow globe until the day I die. It will always be visible no matter where I live. It will always remain a constant reminder of the woman I loved so dearly, of the woman who raised me, of the woman who shaped who I am, of the woman who I will miss forever.
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
I May Have Saved a Life Today
Today I was on the way to the store to get some new clothes for work. I stopped at the gas station to get a soda and took a way that I normally wouldn’t take just because I felt like it. That route took me past a middle school and an elementary school, the former of the two just getting out for the day. Since it was a school zone I was driving slowly down the street, watching for kids and reminiscing about my days in middle school. I glanced down a side street and noticed a large group of kids gathered around in a big circle and just felt this ball of hot lead gather in my stomach. I couldn’t just keep driving. So, I did a quick U-turn, as I had already driven past the street, and drove up to the crowed. Sure enough, in the center, was this little kid getting beaten. I immediately hit my horn and held it. A bunch of kids look at me in surprise and bolted, not wanting to get caught watching a fight. After a moment even the guys doing the beating stopped and looked over at me in suspicion. I turned off the car and got out, my heart pounding so hard. I yelled at them, asked the what the fuck they thought they were doing. A couple of people started coming out of their houses and the guys took notice (they were probably in middle school themselves, maybe even high school freshman or something). They bolted and took off down the street. I went over to the kid who was laying on the ground crying. I asked him if he was okay as I knelt down next to him. His lip was busted open and his nose was bleeding profusely. I asked one of the people standing around if they could go inside and grab some paper towels. They did and came out quickly, I gave them to the kid and he mopped himself up. Someone asked if they should call the police. I looked at the kid and asked him if he wanted to get them involved or if he wanted me to just take him home. I ended up taking him home.
His mom answered the door, instantly saw him, and started crying and freaking out. She looked at me, a big burly guy, and thought that I had been the one who beat her son. She started coming at me, saying she was going to call the police and press charges. Both the boy and I quickly corrected her and told her what happened. She was crying harder and she hugged me and apologized. Before I left she tried to give me money for saving her son. I waved it away and said I couldn’t accept payment for being a decent human being.
I was jumped when I was in middle school. Three high school seniors attacked me from behind and started beating me. Had someone not had the heart to stop their car and get them off of me, they probably would have beaten me to death. We got the cops involved and when they found the culprits, they said it was gang retaliation. I was a short and chubby little white nerd, so obviously I was a hardcore gang banger. Anyways, the point of the story is that had someone not stopped and helped me, I probably would have been beaten to death. I was surrounded by kids I knew, kids I had known since elementary school, and all of them had these looks of excitement and glee. They wouldn’t have stopped it.
When I saw that crowed, I instantly thought about what had happened to me. I couldn’t just drive away. I didn’t get the whole story about what had happened because the kid was really quiet. Had he been scared for his life? I honestly don’t know. What sparked this brutal beating? Again, something I don’t know. But I can sleep easier knowing that I helped this poor kid.
His mom answered the door, instantly saw him, and started crying and freaking out. She looked at me, a big burly guy, and thought that I had been the one who beat her son. She started coming at me, saying she was going to call the police and press charges. Both the boy and I quickly corrected her and told her what happened. She was crying harder and she hugged me and apologized. Before I left she tried to give me money for saving her son. I waved it away and said I couldn’t accept payment for being a decent human being.
I was jumped when I was in middle school. Three high school seniors attacked me from behind and started beating me. Had someone not had the heart to stop their car and get them off of me, they probably would have beaten me to death. We got the cops involved and when they found the culprits, they said it was gang retaliation. I was a short and chubby little white nerd, so obviously I was a hardcore gang banger. Anyways, the point of the story is that had someone not stopped and helped me, I probably would have been beaten to death. I was surrounded by kids I knew, kids I had known since elementary school, and all of them had these looks of excitement and glee. They wouldn’t have stopped it.
When I saw that crowed, I instantly thought about what had happened to me. I couldn’t just drive away. I didn’t get the whole story about what had happened because the kid was really quiet. Had he been scared for his life? I honestly don’t know. What sparked this brutal beating? Again, something I don’t know. But I can sleep easier knowing that I helped this poor kid.
Monday, April 25, 2011
There's a Saying that Goes
You don't really know what you've got till it's gone.
It’s more true that anyone could possibly realize. I can think of so many instances in my life where I took for granted what I had, and regretted it so much when it was gone. I suppose the most notable thing I’ve lost over the years is my Grandmother. She was my rock in life, the most important person to me when I was young. She was taken from me when I was thirteen by stomach cancer. I sort of always saw her as someone who would be there no matter what. I saw myself asking for her advice when I was graduating high school, college, getting married, buying a house, having kids…growing old. When she died, it came as a rude awakening that nothing lasts forever, that you really don’t know what you have until it’s truly gone. I have so many regrets when it comes to her, so many things I wish I could have said and done. The fact of the matter is, it’s too late to do anything. I know that.
I used to be really good friends with this girl named Summer. Somehow, against the odds, we became really close. I say somehow because she’s everything I’ve ever really hated in people. She was that blonde Barbie in high school we all wanted to cut. She hated to read and was ditzy as they came. However, against the odds, we became great friends. A couple of years ago, over the summer break, she moved closer to where I lived. I spent so much time around her and her family, and grew to love them like a family of my own. Her parents treated me like a son. I also saw how she treated them, and let me tell you, it wasn’t good. From that time on, I sort of grew to dislike her. She was such an ungrateful person, always getting what she wanted and then sulking because she couldn’t get more. She’d sneak out all the time, talk back, argue, and never do anything they asked, and when she did, it was usually with some smart remark.
We had a falling out because of how she acted with them and how she was changing. She began drinking, doing drugs, and eventually we just stopped talking altogether because anytime she got in contact with me, it was only because she wanted something. Well, flash forward to about four months or so ago. I was feeling very nostalgic and was driving by where they lived. So I stopped by, just to say hi. Summer wasn’t there (because she moved in with her loser boyfriend after dropping out of high school) but I stayed for nearly twelve hours just chatting with her parents and catching up and playing with her little brother and sister. Since that day I’ve tried to make it over there at least once a week to see them and spend time with them. I’ve grown to sincerely wish that they were the family I really had. I saw how much pain Summer’s mom was in because of how she treated her, saw how resentful her father was because of what she was doing with her life.
I few weeks ago I learned that they’re moving to Washington. Julie and Casey, the parents I wish I had had, and their two kids Cody and Kailee, the two little kids I love like siblings, are moving to another state. Despite everything she put them through, they are begging her to go with them, begging her to drop the jobless felon she’s shacked up with and join her family. She says no. She can’t leave him. I spent Easter with them today. I helped them hide the eggs, watched as Kody, six, and Kailee, three, ran around the yard searching for the eggs. I ate dinner with them, watched movies, played with the kids, and just talked with Julie and Casey. Summer showed up well after everything was through, said one quick hello, then went to the pig sty of a room they let her keep. Later, when dessert was served, she came downstairs and ate and said she needed to talk to me about something in private. She dragged me outside and down the street so she could tell me how she likes her boss and how he likes her and she’s thinking about leaving her boyfriend and blah blah blah.
It just made me mad. She’s so tied up on what she should do between the two and she’s not even considering how she’s throwing away the family that loves her so much despite what she’s done to them. I truly wish that I could have grown up with her family. I see what she’s throwing away and it makes me so mad. Had I been with them, I would have had an amazing father instead of one who was never there because he was too busy getting high and winding up in prison. I would have had a fantastic mom who was attentive to her kids instead of one with anger issues who solved everything by yelling. I would have had a brother, and eventually a sister, instead of spending the majority of my life alone and friendless. I might actually be happy right now, had I been born into that family. And she’s tossing them away like they’re nothing.
I started off this whole thing with the intent on telling you guys to always cherish what you have, because when it’s gone you’ll regret it for the rest of your life if you don’t. It ended up a suppose a resentful rant about how much I wish I could have been in her place. Either way, I suppose the moral is cherish what you have or else you’ll regret it.
It’s more true that anyone could possibly realize. I can think of so many instances in my life where I took for granted what I had, and regretted it so much when it was gone. I suppose the most notable thing I’ve lost over the years is my Grandmother. She was my rock in life, the most important person to me when I was young. She was taken from me when I was thirteen by stomach cancer. I sort of always saw her as someone who would be there no matter what. I saw myself asking for her advice when I was graduating high school, college, getting married, buying a house, having kids…growing old. When she died, it came as a rude awakening that nothing lasts forever, that you really don’t know what you have until it’s truly gone. I have so many regrets when it comes to her, so many things I wish I could have said and done. The fact of the matter is, it’s too late to do anything. I know that.
I used to be really good friends with this girl named Summer. Somehow, against the odds, we became really close. I say somehow because she’s everything I’ve ever really hated in people. She was that blonde Barbie in high school we all wanted to cut. She hated to read and was ditzy as they came. However, against the odds, we became great friends. A couple of years ago, over the summer break, she moved closer to where I lived. I spent so much time around her and her family, and grew to love them like a family of my own. Her parents treated me like a son. I also saw how she treated them, and let me tell you, it wasn’t good. From that time on, I sort of grew to dislike her. She was such an ungrateful person, always getting what she wanted and then sulking because she couldn’t get more. She’d sneak out all the time, talk back, argue, and never do anything they asked, and when she did, it was usually with some smart remark.
We had a falling out because of how she acted with them and how she was changing. She began drinking, doing drugs, and eventually we just stopped talking altogether because anytime she got in contact with me, it was only because she wanted something. Well, flash forward to about four months or so ago. I was feeling very nostalgic and was driving by where they lived. So I stopped by, just to say hi. Summer wasn’t there (because she moved in with her loser boyfriend after dropping out of high school) but I stayed for nearly twelve hours just chatting with her parents and catching up and playing with her little brother and sister. Since that day I’ve tried to make it over there at least once a week to see them and spend time with them. I’ve grown to sincerely wish that they were the family I really had. I saw how much pain Summer’s mom was in because of how she treated her, saw how resentful her father was because of what she was doing with her life.
I few weeks ago I learned that they’re moving to Washington. Julie and Casey, the parents I wish I had had, and their two kids Cody and Kailee, the two little kids I love like siblings, are moving to another state. Despite everything she put them through, they are begging her to go with them, begging her to drop the jobless felon she’s shacked up with and join her family. She says no. She can’t leave him. I spent Easter with them today. I helped them hide the eggs, watched as Kody, six, and Kailee, three, ran around the yard searching for the eggs. I ate dinner with them, watched movies, played with the kids, and just talked with Julie and Casey. Summer showed up well after everything was through, said one quick hello, then went to the pig sty of a room they let her keep. Later, when dessert was served, she came downstairs and ate and said she needed to talk to me about something in private. She dragged me outside and down the street so she could tell me how she likes her boss and how he likes her and she’s thinking about leaving her boyfriend and blah blah blah.
It just made me mad. She’s so tied up on what she should do between the two and she’s not even considering how she’s throwing away the family that loves her so much despite what she’s done to them. I truly wish that I could have grown up with her family. I see what she’s throwing away and it makes me so mad. Had I been with them, I would have had an amazing father instead of one who was never there because he was too busy getting high and winding up in prison. I would have had a fantastic mom who was attentive to her kids instead of one with anger issues who solved everything by yelling. I would have had a brother, and eventually a sister, instead of spending the majority of my life alone and friendless. I might actually be happy right now, had I been born into that family. And she’s tossing them away like they’re nothing.
I started off this whole thing with the intent on telling you guys to always cherish what you have, because when it’s gone you’ll regret it for the rest of your life if you don’t. It ended up a suppose a resentful rant about how much I wish I could have been in her place. Either way, I suppose the moral is cherish what you have or else you’ll regret it.
Monday, March 21, 2011
Welcome to my World
The last few weeks I've been in a sort of dangerous, "I really couldn't give two shits," kind of mood. As a result, I feel I've become very detached from the important things in my life. School, love, friendships, family; I've been seeing them in a new perspective that I hadn't ever considered before. Perhaps this is just me growing up some, changing from the kid who cared about everyone and everything and never wanted to step on any toes, to the man who looks out for himself since no one else really will. As well, I've been very philosophical lately. Generally, I tend to get that way whenever I'm extremely tired and yet don't sleep. Around one or two in the morning I just tend to think about things in my life and the world and what they all mean in the grand scheme of things. The past week or so though, I've been feeling like that all the time. Perhaps I'm just generally tired more than in the past. I can assure you that, at the moment, I could definitely use a few more winks of sleep. Anyways, sorry for the rambling. Just some thought vomit for you on this cold and dreary Monday morning.
Friday, March 11, 2011
The Japan Tragedy
Those of you who know me probably know I'm not a very religious man. I have my own relationship with a higher power and I don't believe in organized religion. However, despite that, my prayers go out to those in Japan and the areas still at risk of getting hit with that tsunami.
The horror that this video only begins to scratch the surface of makes me very worried. I have never been one to believe these End of the World dates. If anything, I laughed at those that did, then became smug when we were still alive the next day. However, I can't help but wonder if something like this is a sign. I may not be very religious, but I tend to listen to my instincts and the little niggling feelings that hit me. The dread that I'm feeling now is more than a little niggling feeling. Am I saying that it's really going to happen? No. However, I am saying that I am worried more so now than with any other End of the World date that has passed.
The horror that this video only begins to scratch the surface of makes me very worried. I have never been one to believe these End of the World dates. If anything, I laughed at those that did, then became smug when we were still alive the next day. However, I can't help but wonder if something like this is a sign. I may not be very religious, but I tend to listen to my instincts and the little niggling feelings that hit me. The dread that I'm feeling now is more than a little niggling feeling. Am I saying that it's really going to happen? No. However, I am saying that I am worried more so now than with any other End of the World date that has passed.
Thursday, March 10, 2011
It's Been Some Time
It's come to my attention that it has been quite some time since my last post. Truthfully, this blog had fallen to the back of mind mind, filed away under 'things to do when life calms down and gives me a moment to breathe'. Even though life hasn't calmed down one iota, I figured I owed you all a nice long thought provoking post. Either that, or a post updating you on all that has happened to me that you'll just stop reading part way through because all of it is school, work, more school, and more work. I decided that the thought provoking post would go over better.
Today, I come to you with a heavy heart. I'm not sure how many of you keep up with the local Las Vegas news, but a travesty has occurred quite recently. Every single faculty member, from teachers to support staff, are being forced to reapply for their jobs at Chaparral High School for the next school year. The man that made that school the fun and interesting place most high schools aren't, Kevin McPartlin, is being removed from his principal position. He is to be replaced by some unknown person who will be announced Friday, March 18th.
Now, you may all be wondering the reasoning for such a drastic measure. Well, join the club, because even I am mystified. The school district has said that, due to low test scores, low graduation rate, and high drop out rate, Mr. McPartlin has failed as a principal. Because of that, the school needs to be put under new management. This new person must review every application put in by the current staff and is allowed to keep up to 50% of them. So, no matter what, at least half of the staff will be complete strangers. However, s/he can choose to keep none of them.
The school district thinks that by bringing in all new staff, it will pull the students out of the rut they have currently fallen into and bring up all test scores, bring up the graduation rate, and lower the drop out rate. The numbers will look good and they can bring those to Washington and the country can see that we are no longer failures. Yaaaaaaay!
If only the boys and girls at the district weren't complete idiots. If the rest of the country were idiots like them, maybe their plan would work. As it is, I would love to strangle the person who came up with this idea. Something like this will never work, and let me tell you why.
I went to that school. I know the types of people there. I know the students, I know the staff, I know the Chap dynamic. Yes, Chaparral High School doesn't have the lowest drop-out rate. The big wigs forget to take a lot of things into consideration when this comes into play. In an economy like this, a lot of students are forced to take jobs in order to help support their families. Because of that, they drop out of traditional high school, some of them even going on to do Adult Education in an effort to still get their diplomas. Now, I know that not everyone who drops out does it because they have to get a job. There are those students who just don't see the point of going to school. Trust me, I know. I'm friends with some of them. However, that way of thinking starts in the home. Parents who didn't get an education themselves, didn't stress the importance of school, will inevitably produce offspring who think the same way they do. In essence, they raise kids to not think at all.
The graduation rate is something that can also be accredited to some students trying to balance school and work. Test scores, however, are the majority of the reason many students don't graduate. Teachers are charged with preparing students to pass their proficiencies. Even as low as kindergarten, students are trained to know the things they need to know in order to pass. With the state budget for education so low, teachers are forced to teach classes of 40+ students a lot of time. How on earth are they supposed to give the students the attention they need in order to properly teach them? Most teachers spend more time reprimanding disruptive kids then they do actually teaching, which again goes back to the home life. It's not a teacher's job to teach kids how to have respect, how to behave, how to be civilized adults. That's something that falls on the parent. However, we have so many parents around that just generally don't give a shit about their children, so they grow up to be disruptive hooligans. So, because teachers have to spend too much time telling students to be quiet and listen, the rest of the kids in the class don't get the adequate education they need. After failing the tests multiple times, may kids just feel like they are too dumb to function, so they just drop out.
With the way education is being run in this state, we're setting our children up for failure. We tell them they need to be at a certain level by a certain time, yet we punish them when they aren't because they don't have the adequate means to get there. Aside from the mentioned points, there's one other large part that I want to cover.
Teachers are a big part of a student's life. Provided they don't drop out, teachers are there for 13+ years of their lives. Though the teachers change each year as we as students grow older, we can always remember those teachers that we connected with on a deeper level. We all have those teachers that encouraged us when we things got tough, that talked to us when we were in a bad place, that made us smile when we really needed it. Teachers are more than just people who teach us things; they are a vital support system. In the world today, sometimes teachers are the only support system a student has. I was raised by a phenomenal woman. She has a past that she doesn't like mentioning all the time, one that eventually led to dropping out of high school. However, when I came along, she got her GED and started working far harder than any person should have to work. She was a single mom and was always working, so a lot of the time I was with my grandparents. Even so, she always taught me that education is the most important thing we could ever get. She taught me how to be respectful and how to be a decent human being. However, because she was gone a lot, she wasn't so much a support system as a parent who I love dearly, but didn't really connect with. I relied heavily on my grandmother.
When I was in the eighth grade, my grandmother passed away. I was in an extremely dark place. I barely managed to finish out the eight grade and move on to high school. It was there that I met a few wonderful teachers. I met Marsha Borovicka, the woman that taught me how to sing my cares away. I met Wayne Leavit, the man who taught me how to laugh and to never stop writing. In my freshman year of high school alone, I got back two things that I loved dearly. If it weren't for those two, I probably would have ended up taking my own life. The next year, I met a wonderful woman by the name of Ginger Clayton, who's views on life never cease to amaze me. She also encouraged me to write, and also taught me to never look at the world from one point of view. Always look at it from all around, because it's then that you truly learn. My Junior year I met Mrs. Gloria Lee and Mrs. Kelley Polson. Mrs. Lee taught me to read, read, read everything I can. She is also an extremely witty woman who always has my brain churning out comebacks for her remarks. Mrs. Polson taught me to never stop caring for others. That year, I also met Mrs. Courtney Craig, who taught me to stand up for myself no matter what.
It was because of these fantastic people that my high school experience wasn't the hell that so many I talk to claim theirs was. They taught me so much more than was in their job description, and because of that, they will always be in my heart and I will never forget them. I know my story isn't the story of every student out there, but I do know that, even if they can't admit it, every student has at least one teacher who they love, who encourages them all the time. I know quite a few students who go to school just to see those teachers, who attend classes to make them proud.
Now, the school district thinks they can fix everything by ripping apart the only rock many students have to cling to? They don't care about students. All they see are numbers, and they want those numbers to change. Oh, the number will change alright, but not in the way they want them to. This is a decision they will end up regretting.
Today, I come to you with a heavy heart. I'm not sure how many of you keep up with the local Las Vegas news, but a travesty has occurred quite recently. Every single faculty member, from teachers to support staff, are being forced to reapply for their jobs at Chaparral High School for the next school year. The man that made that school the fun and interesting place most high schools aren't, Kevin McPartlin, is being removed from his principal position. He is to be replaced by some unknown person who will be announced Friday, March 18th.
Now, you may all be wondering the reasoning for such a drastic measure. Well, join the club, because even I am mystified. The school district has said that, due to low test scores, low graduation rate, and high drop out rate, Mr. McPartlin has failed as a principal. Because of that, the school needs to be put under new management. This new person must review every application put in by the current staff and is allowed to keep up to 50% of them. So, no matter what, at least half of the staff will be complete strangers. However, s/he can choose to keep none of them.
The school district thinks that by bringing in all new staff, it will pull the students out of the rut they have currently fallen into and bring up all test scores, bring up the graduation rate, and lower the drop out rate. The numbers will look good and they can bring those to Washington and the country can see that we are no longer failures. Yaaaaaaay!
If only the boys and girls at the district weren't complete idiots. If the rest of the country were idiots like them, maybe their plan would work. As it is, I would love to strangle the person who came up with this idea. Something like this will never work, and let me tell you why.
I went to that school. I know the types of people there. I know the students, I know the staff, I know the Chap dynamic. Yes, Chaparral High School doesn't have the lowest drop-out rate. The big wigs forget to take a lot of things into consideration when this comes into play. In an economy like this, a lot of students are forced to take jobs in order to help support their families. Because of that, they drop out of traditional high school, some of them even going on to do Adult Education in an effort to still get their diplomas. Now, I know that not everyone who drops out does it because they have to get a job. There are those students who just don't see the point of going to school. Trust me, I know. I'm friends with some of them. However, that way of thinking starts in the home. Parents who didn't get an education themselves, didn't stress the importance of school, will inevitably produce offspring who think the same way they do. In essence, they raise kids to not think at all.
The graduation rate is something that can also be accredited to some students trying to balance school and work. Test scores, however, are the majority of the reason many students don't graduate. Teachers are charged with preparing students to pass their proficiencies. Even as low as kindergarten, students are trained to know the things they need to know in order to pass. With the state budget for education so low, teachers are forced to teach classes of 40+ students a lot of time. How on earth are they supposed to give the students the attention they need in order to properly teach them? Most teachers spend more time reprimanding disruptive kids then they do actually teaching, which again goes back to the home life. It's not a teacher's job to teach kids how to have respect, how to behave, how to be civilized adults. That's something that falls on the parent. However, we have so many parents around that just generally don't give a shit about their children, so they grow up to be disruptive hooligans. So, because teachers have to spend too much time telling students to be quiet and listen, the rest of the kids in the class don't get the adequate education they need. After failing the tests multiple times, may kids just feel like they are too dumb to function, so they just drop out.
With the way education is being run in this state, we're setting our children up for failure. We tell them they need to be at a certain level by a certain time, yet we punish them when they aren't because they don't have the adequate means to get there. Aside from the mentioned points, there's one other large part that I want to cover.
Teachers are a big part of a student's life. Provided they don't drop out, teachers are there for 13+ years of their lives. Though the teachers change each year as we as students grow older, we can always remember those teachers that we connected with on a deeper level. We all have those teachers that encouraged us when we things got tough, that talked to us when we were in a bad place, that made us smile when we really needed it. Teachers are more than just people who teach us things; they are a vital support system. In the world today, sometimes teachers are the only support system a student has. I was raised by a phenomenal woman. She has a past that she doesn't like mentioning all the time, one that eventually led to dropping out of high school. However, when I came along, she got her GED and started working far harder than any person should have to work. She was a single mom and was always working, so a lot of the time I was with my grandparents. Even so, she always taught me that education is the most important thing we could ever get. She taught me how to be respectful and how to be a decent human being. However, because she was gone a lot, she wasn't so much a support system as a parent who I love dearly, but didn't really connect with. I relied heavily on my grandmother.
When I was in the eighth grade, my grandmother passed away. I was in an extremely dark place. I barely managed to finish out the eight grade and move on to high school. It was there that I met a few wonderful teachers. I met Marsha Borovicka, the woman that taught me how to sing my cares away. I met Wayne Leavit, the man who taught me how to laugh and to never stop writing. In my freshman year of high school alone, I got back two things that I loved dearly. If it weren't for those two, I probably would have ended up taking my own life. The next year, I met a wonderful woman by the name of Ginger Clayton, who's views on life never cease to amaze me. She also encouraged me to write, and also taught me to never look at the world from one point of view. Always look at it from all around, because it's then that you truly learn. My Junior year I met Mrs. Gloria Lee and Mrs. Kelley Polson. Mrs. Lee taught me to read, read, read everything I can. She is also an extremely witty woman who always has my brain churning out comebacks for her remarks. Mrs. Polson taught me to never stop caring for others. That year, I also met Mrs. Courtney Craig, who taught me to stand up for myself no matter what.
It was because of these fantastic people that my high school experience wasn't the hell that so many I talk to claim theirs was. They taught me so much more than was in their job description, and because of that, they will always be in my heart and I will never forget them. I know my story isn't the story of every student out there, but I do know that, even if they can't admit it, every student has at least one teacher who they love, who encourages them all the time. I know quite a few students who go to school just to see those teachers, who attend classes to make them proud.
Now, the school district thinks they can fix everything by ripping apart the only rock many students have to cling to? They don't care about students. All they see are numbers, and they want those numbers to change. Oh, the number will change alright, but not in the way they want them to. This is a decision they will end up regretting.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)