How many W’s can you find in this picture?

Week 3. Or so the fingers would indicate. I have failed to update with anything up to this point since the day I got internet. Mostly because I’m a failure. So are more than half my students…Yeah. Not even joking. According to the other teachers that is normal-last year’s freshmen failed the first 6 weeks, too. It is, however, a bit disconcerting to look at your grades listed and see all F’s, D’s, and C’s.

I feel like I’m finally starting to get the hang of the New Tech model. I don’t have it fully, but I’ve definitely improved. Because I’m in the ideal situation, I talk to pretty much all of the other teachers daily, getting advise and sponging off of their vents, resources, and wisdom. Chris (principal) stops in my classroom during my planning about every other day, and he’s in my classroom at least once a day. He likes to see what’s going on in the classes. Just so you know, this is not normal. One of my classes makes me want to tear out my hair sometimes…or perhaps their hair… For some reason the other 2 classes are great. They’re kids-sometimes they talk too much and get distracted. But they respect me and listen. They actually do what I tell them to do. The other class…not so much. They could care less.

Since I moved here I’ve been required to entertain myself on a weekend ONCE. In over a month. Awesome. One weekend Mom & Dad were here, the next I went home, Labor Day Heather and Rachel were here, and then this weekend Mom & Dad spontaneously vacationed here and we spent Sunday at my dad’s cousin’s house at Lake Norman. They took us out on their pontoon boat and I went out on their jet skis with dad’s cousin. I DID hang out with someone new this weekend, though. Three someones, actually. Went to dinner, watched a movie-perhaps I am capable of making friends outside of college? With said friend I am (as of 20 minutes ago) working the concession stand at Friday’s football game. Just call me Sally Smalltown.

Although I have had visitors every weekend, I’m getting that “time to go home” itch a bit. It happens when I move somewhere-I get physically antsy to visit home. There used to be a defined line when I was at Rochester. For weeks I’d be fine. Then all of a sudden I was just…off. I do have a date for which to shoot, though- after week 6 I get to go home. I get to go to work, drive 7 hours, and then stay up all night. And I can’t wait. For 7 years I’ve been driving 7 hours randomly just for the weekend to go to my youth group’s lock-in. It is the most impractical trip I make yearly. Last year was the first year I missed it, and I’m elated to go back. (I would, however, love to be back in Europe missing it again…No offense, lock-in.)

I think I’ve found a church. Providence Road Church of Christ. It’s an hour and 20 minutes away. Jeff Walling’s church in Charlotte. That is quite a long way to drive for church. I quickly realized, however, that I need that comfort zone. I could go to one of the Baptist/Methodist/Episcopalian/etc. churches around here and feel fine about it. I’d be fine just being happy to disagree about the points with which I don’t agree and going with it for the “assembly/family” aspect of church. BUT I’ve come to find out that, while I can feel fine about going to another church, going to a church of Christ is so FAMILIAR, even if it’s full of strangers. When the whole rest of my world here is still pretty unfamiliar, I’m okay with driving an hour and a half to feel at home once a week. And they have a small group that’s only about a half an hour away. Plus it gives me a reason to hang out in Charlotte once a week.

I made some pretty tasty pasta today-cream sauce with mushrooms, tomatoes, onions, bacon. It wasn’t what I expected from the recipe, but it was good. I’m excited to eat it again tomorrow.

Olympics, Facebook, Seating, and All the Things I Miss(ed)

I cannot describe how happy I am to have the internet in my apartment. I’ve been able to get online a bit at work-enough to check my email and do work. Facebook and most of the world, however, is blocked by the “high school students should not have access to this during the school day” internet blockers. I got the password at the end of last week to override the blocker, but I had a guilty conscience about using it too much. Plus, every time you changed a page in facebook, you’d have to put the password in again. 

I missed most of the Olympics, crazy amounts of news, and have felt paranoid about my finances all week (because I’m used to balancing my checkbook online all the time). 

BUT in the last two weeks I’ve done lots of big girl things-opened a new checking account, gotten my own tv and internet services, changed my electric, spent 2 hours waiting to get fingerprinted, worked 2 full weeks in my first real job, organized and decorated an apartment, and planned the first 2 months of school. 

I was a disastrous mess the few days after Heather, Sara, and Rachel left. We went to the one Church of Christ on the Sunday they left. It was awful. Seriously, it was so bad (but I hadn’t heard the “five steps of salvation” so many times all at once in quite a while, so at least that’s… something). Ask Rachel Craddock if you need confirmation. I just spent hours after school on my air mattress weeping, watching sad movies so that I wouldn’t feel so pathetic, and texting. I didn’t want to talk on the phone because I’m not good at being emotional and articulate at the same time. At all.I actually had to tell mom to force dad not to offer to bring me home any more. He has this habit of insistently offering to pack my stuff and move me home at any moment. I was afraid if he offered too much I’d take him up on it. 

Somewhere in the middle of the week-in the midst of planning, getting excited about the plans, driving to Charlotte, and running out of tears, I got more comfortable. By the time mom and dad got here I was much better. They might have preferred it if I was still weepy (to show that I miss them), but I was happy to be dried up. 

I miss home every day. Home, Michigan, camp, Europe (and the posse therein)-all the places that are home. Those are the places where I feel comfortable-I know my way around, I know my place in those worlds, I know how to be myself and be comfortable in the fact that I am loved and love in return. I’m surviving here just fine, but I think it’ll be a while until I thrive. I don’t see myself in a tier 1, a bizarre posse, a turtle family-whatever you want to call it… The staff at the school is great, but they have lives of their own. And they really don’t understand my humor most of the time. I think that they don’t really understand sarcasm here. That will be a problem for me.

A lot of my hesitancy to be home here probably has to do with the fact that, as a master of guarding myself, I am on the top of my game here. I think I’m hesitant to get comfortable and love it here because in my head I’m just here for the job, not the place. And I do think I will really love the job. I do so far. But at this point Wadesboro is REALLY just a place to write on my envelopes until something else comes along. Surprisingly, the accent gets on my nerves. Last night I was creeped out by my bedroom and had to sleep in the living room. I don’t want to change my license because I don’t want to claim North Carolina. But I have, after all, only been here for two weeks. And I have successfully taken out my own trash four times. 

Next week will be a bit crazy-insano. I work Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday. (Everybody else works the whole week, but I got permission to leave.) Wednesday I leave after work to drive to West Virginia. Thursday morning I’ll leave with Jeff, Julie, Jake, & Carly to go to Michigan to hear Elie Wiesel speak at Rochester on Friday. We’ll hang out until 2ish or so on Friday and then drive back to West Virginia. Mom and dad have called fierce dibs on Saturday. I may or may not be spending the night (after m&d sleep) at Heather’s on Saturday with Sarey Mayle and possibly Anna and Rachel. Sunday we’ll be waking up supa-early to drive to Parkersburg. We’ll go to church at 36th Street (hope that’s not a surprise) and then have some lunch and possible bowling with our favorite Parkersburg kids and folks. I’ll then drive back to NoCo to go straight to bed and start school the very next day. Nothing like a whirlwind to get the blood pumping.

Rebels and Causes

When I was a little girl, I used to sit on my dad’s knees when he was in bed. He called it the queen’s seat. From that elevated position I ruled the roost. Too timid to ask for (letalone demand) anything, I suppose I was a benevolent queen. My parents would teasingly ask who my favorite was and I would diplomatically answer, “You’re both my favorite!” 

I think the 6th grade is the first time I ever did anything with which I knew someone I loved would disagree. I cut my ridiculously long hair to a not-so-ridiculous mid-back length. I was literally afraid to show my dad after I got it cut-not because I was afraid he’d be mad, but because I was afraid he’d be disappointed. He loved my long hair with the bizarre passion with which fathers love their baby daughters. Heather and Jess had provided him with quite enough to be upset about in their tumultuous teen angstedness, and I just wanted to be the one to cause no waves. 

College rocked my home world. Seemingly out of the blue and for no clear reason (other than a mysterious God-led sort of spontaneous decision), I randomly just declared I was going to Rochester and pointed myself full force in that direction. While I fully contend that that was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made, it was the hardest thing I’d ever done up until that point in my life. Honestly, it’s probably the hardest thing I’ve ever done until now. I moved to Rochester with no friends, no clue, and not much independence. In the AG parking lot I hugged my family, turned around, and walked to the dorm knowing that I was taking away their anchor, their queen-the dear young one who never caused any trouble and never did anything to make anyone upset. I saw my dad cry more in those 6.5 years (yeah, I held on to college for a long time…) than in the cumulative rest of my life. Dad sees me as the one person in his world who is like him-I don’t ask him to do much, yell at him, or give him crap. I am non-confrontational and adventuresome. He likes that adventurousness when it’s something neat to talk about-like trekking around Europe. When it involves something more permanent it’s a different story.

My mom loves to be the different one. She’s all support and encouragement, but secretly she sneaks into my bed when I’m gone and cry/naps. Or she becomes and internet junkie just to talk to me online. She moved away from home when she was young (19) and then got married and stayed away, so she sees things a little bit differently.  

My sister doesn’t want me to go. Desperately she doesn’t want me to go. We’ve been best of friends since I was 15 or so-since she came back from Memphis. College was hard-it was hard to be apart and it was hard on us. Because of it, though, we’ve grown a lot. We’ve become better communicators (after several abysmal failures) and I believe that we understand each other better. She’s been so great about being supportive, even though I know full well that given her preference she’d beg me not to go just as dad does. I’d have her live with me in North Carolina in a second, but for as much as I go she stays. I wish that every once and a while I could let down the tough, determined, and adventurous veneer to show her that it breaks my heart to leave as much as it breaks hers to wave goodbye. 

But I know myself well enough to know that, although it hurts, this is what I need. Since I came back from Europe I’ve been a bit of a time bomb. For a while I didn’t do so well at being home-I felt restless and stagnant and was afraid I would slide into a routine that would spiral into living in my parents’ house for years. It didn’t seem like long after I got comfortable in my own skin that I was planning to leave again. At least at this point, I would love to be back home again before too long. I think that now wasn’t the time for me to stay, even though now I ache to stay. It would have felt like settling. I need to come back on my own terms and with a purpose… one more ambitious than working at the Gap. I’ve been at home now for longer than I had been in 6 and a half years. Long enough to let everyone get perfectly comfortable. The first dose is free. The second will cost you.

This job is fantastic. I couldn’t have created a job more up my alley. And at the same time it scares me like crazy. I know for a fact that it’s going to force me to work harder than I thought possible. I feel (out of stubbornness) like I have to be all excitement and expectation, but I’m willing to admit- sometimes I’m so nervous it makes me nauseous. 

“Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have summoned you by name; you are mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned, the flames will not set you ablaze, for I am the Lord, your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior.”-Isaiah 43:1-3

2 months from now I’m sure I’ll have very different things to say. I just don’t know what. I hope I’m good at my job…I really hope that. I hope I’m good at this job. But at the same time I hope that I don’t get so attached to North Carolina that it becomes a home I don’t want to leave. 

So yeah…once again tomorrow I’ll abdicate my throne and trade off the scepter for a wanderer’s cloak. 

“I’ve seen your flag on the marble arch. Love is not a victory march. It’s a cold and it’s a broken hallelujah.” -Jeff Buckley

“I cannot fix on the hour, or on the spot, or on the look, or on the words which laid the foundation. It is too long ago. I was in the middle before I knew that I had begun.” -Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice

“My little beast, my eyes, my favorite stolen egg. Listen. To live is to be marked. To live is to change, to acquire the words of a story, and that is the only celebration we mortals really know.” -Barbara Kingsolver, The Poisonwood Bible

Neverland

My best friend got married last week. I spent the week in New York at her house for the first time in a monumental friendship. Somehow in all our travels, I never managed to make it to Syracuse before then. Because Naomi is relaxed and low-maintenance, it was probably the least high-stress wedding ever. Granted, there were little things that caused friction occasionally, but so so minimally. We went to Niagra Falls, which was large and in charge…immense and intense… a tall wall of fall. 

It may be an indication that I refuse to grow up, but church camp is consistently one of my favorite weeks of the year. It is the place where I do not hesitate to shower unconditional love (and showing love is sometimes a problem for me) and know without a doubt that it is returned. At camp you can be completely ridiculous and outlandish, then turn around and in the same breath address philosophical issues. This year my “bizarre posse” took it upon ourselves to rename every food and beverage offered in the canteen with our own names, giving names to combinations as well as individual foods, then integrated them in such a way that the campers were ordering with our names by the end of the week. It was fantastic! Camp is also the time all year when I spend a whole week with my sister. 

We’ve been going to camp for about 8 years. It’s amazing to see the little kids I knew at the beginning of our camp adventure grow into these pillars of wisdom and faith. I count the time from year to year for the simple fact that I adore these people. I see it as a time, once a year, where I can (at least hope to) let them know that they are completely loved and wanted. I consider them family in a way I can’t necessarily explain, even though I may only see them once a year. 

I often see my life as a series of people to miss. Given the opportunity, I would simply gather them all in a commune of fun, hilarity, depth, and great books/movies/music.  My idea of heaven is a conglomeration of dear ones. 

On that note, I’ve reached a point where I’m really hesitant to move to North Carolina. The job is ideal-I do not hesitate to start work at all. I’m so excited about the situation, even though it sometimes scares the crap out of me (most of the time). BUT I feel like it’s one of those times when God’s timing can be slightly aggravating. Just when I get comfortable with the idea of moving and excited about starting a new life, I’m reminded of how much I love the old one, connected to home in renewed ways, and attached to my family. I’m not at all questioning whether or not I’ll go to North Carolina, but it’s gotten much harder lately.

Wadesboro, NC

I found an apartment today. I neglected to take pictures. It’s a duplex…a brick house with some elderly people in the apartment next door who are very friendly and might make me cookies or something. The landlord mows the grass, there’s great parking, and I have a very non-creepy outbuilding (which I don’t need because I don’t have to have a lawnmower). The house has 2 spacious bedrooms, a huge kitchen & dining room, and a living room. Oh, and a bathroom. The second bedroom will probably serve as a library 90% of the time. 

After apartment looking, I met Chris, the principal of the school, and looked at the school. It is a small part of the bigger high school, and the students pretty much never associate with the rest of the school. It’s VERY elitist. Like, the most careful and purposeful elitism. He seems really great, and the school seems really great-right up my alley. But I can tell already that they are going to work my skinny white butt off. You know how, as above-average students in an average or below world, we don’t really have to work much to get good grades and demonstrate our above average abilities? The very nature of this school is to force kids like that to have to actually work. 

There is a Sonic right across the street. Apparently they make pretty frequent school trips to the Sonic. I’m a-okay with that. The school has a wild hog. The principal hunts wild hogs for fun. Apparently he’s caught around 400 in the last year. Now I’m a little paranoid that I’ll just run into one…since they’re apparently so prevalent. He caught one and built a pen for it, and it lives right in the school courtyard beside the greenhouse. Before he was the principal, Chris built a planetarium for the school. So we have our own hog and planetarium. 

I have to be down here August 4th. My summer has pretty much disappeared. I’ll be home this coming week, then gone a week for Naomi’s wedding, then gone a week for camp, then I will be packing up in the last week of July and moving first of August. Holythecrap.

After a whirlwind day of waking up at 5, driving 7 hours, touring the town with 2 different realtors, touring the school with the principal, and eating some steak, it’s off to sleep to drive back home tomorrow…