Substitute Teaching

I lost my nanny job three weeks ago and it's been pretty stressful. 

I applied for and then turned down a couple low-salary nanny job offers, then quickly filled out the substitute teacher paperwork for three public school districts. I had to fill out everything three times: W2's, I9's, 1040's, and application packets. I met various human resource ladies, as well as a police officer who did my background check. He was handsome and rolled my fingers very gently when taking my fingerprints.

I also tried to renew my teaching certificate in New York State so that I'd have the option of moving back there. But the state of NY won't renew it! They said the graduate program I took at Plattsburgh State is no longer accredited with them. I'd spent days filling out an online application, and in one of the final steps, I was required to enter my graduate program code. But it kept saying "invalid." I spent hours on hold and speaking to various people at the NYSED offices and the college, back and forth, to no avail. I will have to do my master's degree all over again if I ever want to teach at a public school in New York in the future.

On my second week of unpaid unemployment, I got a cleaning job and made $75.

This is week three. I submitted an application to work at a private school for autistic children. I really prayed hard about this job, and I really hope I get it. The school is hiring five 1-on-1 "treatment teachers" and I know one of the autistic children who resides at the center. I know his entire family actually, so they'll be a great reference.

I also substitute taught this week, for high school and middle school. I prefer the middle school. My personality doesn't mesh well with the complacent personality of most high school idiots or the hyped up personalities of elementary school energizer bunny babies. Middle school kids and I get along great. It must be the way I speak in fragmented phrases, and off-topic, incomplete thoughts. Like a weather-forecaster. I'm all over the place. They stare and absorb. It's awesome. And in the end I think they even learn something from me sometimes.

When I sub for a high school class, the kids take out their cell phones and start texting one another. They drink iced coffees and eat snacks, and usually one student takes a nap. It's rude, and insulting. And it doesn't help that teachers don't leave actual teaching plans for subs. Instead, they leave piles of worksheets to hand out. I take attendance and pass out the worksheets and sit there, telling them to keep it down, put your cell phone away, pick up the stick wad. They almost always ignore me. I'm just a sub. I don't even know their names. In ten years of subbing, I've never had a student tell me his/her real name when I decide to write them up. Other teachers have told me I'm too nice and I need to get tough. I don't know how to do it. It makes me uncomfortable.

The way that high school teachers talk, I've noticed - it's as if they wanted to become newscasters. They deliver their rehearsed lecture in a firm, smooth tone. If given the opportunity to teach high school, I think I could develop that fluid and assertive salesman-like rhetoric. But when I sub for different grades and subjects everyday, I just can't lecture spontaneously on any given topic. I can't develop professionally either.

But when I sub for middle school classes I can. I subbed for seventh grade English on Wednesday. The students and I read an essay called "Melting Pot" by Anna Quindlen, and another selection by Bill Cosby called "Was Tarzan a Three-Bandage Man?" I successfully started a group discussion about 1930's New York City and diversity. I told the kids to imagine all the races interbreeding until everyone was the same color and there was no more prejudice. But the kids were upset, and one white boy said he didn't want to be African American. A dark-skinned boy next to him covered his face. I quickly changed the subject and asked the kids what their ethnic background was. All the kids shared, one at a time. They gave percentage breakdowns that often added up to more than one hundred. One very Irish-looking kid said he was part Asian and I didn't know if he was being truthful. Then I made a comment that every culture has it's own unique foods, and this prompted a group brainstorm of everyone's favorite type of Italian pasta. We were all over the place, but ended up finishing the assignment questions and having a great time!

Middle school kids are crazy and happy for no reason. They don't know how bad life can get yet. But they feel grown up enough to want to socialize intelligently with one another. They enjoy challenges. They enjoy the activities I learned about in my graduate program years ago: Activities that the high school kids are too cool for.

I was certified to teach both high school and middle school English when I lived in New York State. But when I moved to RI five years ago, my middle school endorsement was not reciprocal but my high school ("secondary") endorsement was. So I can only teach high school English, unless a middle school wants to hire me and help me pay for the classes I need to take to get middle school certification. It's such a mess. My whole life. I just want to be normal and have a job and a baby like everyone else. And I don't even know where I'm going to live next month. I might sleep in my car and shower at the Y. Or try out the shelters. It's pathetic. But that's where a month of no paychecks has put me. I'll be blogging about homelessness pretty soon.

New apartment and sushi

Wednesday I moved into a half house share with a girl who was already living here but her housemate left. I found the place on Craigslist. The girl is really nice and made me a welcome sign on my door.

But this is just temporary, for the month of December. For the long term I'm looking at a furnished studio apartment in Ninigret Park.

I'm kind of excited about moving again next month. I'll be surrounded by hiking and biking trails, the ocean, and three large fresh water ponds. There's actually a small commune of people each renting out single rooms in what happens to be a refurbished motel, and I'm going to look at one of those rooms next week. It would be affordable, furnished, and highly therapeutic.

I'm only juicing a few mornings each week. I've been drinking the glowing green smoothie everyday for two weeks though, and that is made in the blender.

I've been seriously pigging out in the mid-afternoons and late evenings, mostly on candy and chocolate. It has been wonderful. I can maintain my weight-loss when I drink the glowing green smoothie all day in place of breakfast and lunch. I can afford a mid-afternoon snack and pig out for dinner (within reason). My mental energy is high, and I feel good all day when I'm avoiding crap food in general. I also bought a pro-biotic supplement at the health food store, to help digest my evening pig-out meals.

Some sad news. My weekly evening cravings for tofu green curry have disappeared completely. That dish and I go way back to '07. I am sad to see it go, but also relieved.

I have a new weekly craving in its place however:

Now I crave seaweed salad and sushi. I particularly like cramming a giant wad of wasabi into the center of a piece of sushi, then layering it with several pieces of ginger, and finally soaking the sushi in a bowl full of low sodium soy sauce for a minute. I use chopsticks. Words can't describe the explosion of sensations inside my mouth and mind and body when I chew down into the roll. I get the same face sweat action as with the green curry at the Thai restaurant, but at a Japanese Hibachi bar instead. I also love huge pieces of raw fish inside my mouth. Maybe in a past lifetime I was a wicket horny lesbian. The texture and flavor of raw fish to me is just wildly orgasmic. The thought of it makes me moist. My mouth that is. And my twat. It turns me into a little bunny.

I got a check for $477.53 from Geico from a scratch someone put on my car. It was awesome! I was praying about coming up with a security deposit for my next apartment, and then this check came. I wasn't even going to make the claim. But the person who hit my car did the right thing anyways and reported it. If you're out there, person who hit my car, thank you, and I'm sorry. I heart you.

I meant to write a blog on forgiveness this week, but having seen every episode of Oprah while growing up, and watching TedX talks on YouTube about forgiveness all this week, and reflecting on the Bible - I still don't know the first thing about forgiveness. All I arrived at in my searching, was that I have to do it because God says so. God probably thinks I could use a lesson in obedience and submissiveness anyway. I also figured out that I have to decide to forgive every morning I wake up. And I've been doing that successfully most of this week. At least when I die I can tell God in good conscience, I tried to forgive.

God also knows that I live in a nice little place called denial 90% of the time, which is probably why my life is the way it is, but I escaped into the great big world of reality recently. I want to blame the juice fast for this, but fasting is just a tool to remove the blinders. Blatant sober reality without any perks or fixes completely bares a person's soul to themselves. It's just so painful and ugly and meaningless, in the Sylvia Plath sense. I've shared some of that darkness with the world as opposed to letting my light shine. So naturally the vicious cycle continues, and I concur that I'm a horrible person, and thus do more horrible things, unless I snap out of it, and remember God loves me in spite of my sins, and took action to forgive me, so maybe I should forgive myself as well.

There. That said, I really enjoyed having hard ciders and nachos with my new housemate and her friends last night. One of my own friends came over with additional snacks, and just those couple hours of good food and conversation, with the distraction of the television, and some alcohol to boot, really swept me away from the robotic undertakings of the day. I mean, a person needs to live! Not just stay alive, but live and be happy. I'm going to fall short of my ideals for myself everyday, so I may as well get used to it now. I'm 31 years old. I'm never going to have a perfect day. Everyday I'll catch myself indulging in something I shouldn't be indulging in, or saying something I shouldn't be saying, or buying something I shouldn't be buying, or thinking something I shouldn't be thinking. I have to be okay with that. Maybe in acknowledging my own need for self-forgiveness, I can grow in my capacity to forgive others.

Facebook

I like when people have exciting news, and positive and uplifting insights to share on Facebook. I am uplifted myself after reading these comments.

I especially like all the nature photographs people share, and wish there were more in my daily scrolls down the feed.

I also like taking embarrassing pictures of my dad when he sleeps and posting them, since he refuses to learn how to use technology. He's a pretty good sport about it though, as long as I don't get his belly in the picture.

One particular FB friend shared some dreamy elephant pictures once. I love elephants. These pictures were so beautiful. I became fixated on one image for a long time, maybe ten or fifteen minutes, when I first saw it, just in awe of - maybe - I don't know, having had a glimpse of heaven. I'd love to go on an African safari someday and see elephants in the wild. I could watch them lumber around all day.

I read the book of Matthew today in the Message version of the bible. The Message is very plain and direct sounding, and I felt guilty of pretty much everything, but one verse shot out and got me right in the heart:

Matthew 6:25-26:

If you decide for God, living a life of God-worship, it follows that you don't fuss about what's on the table at mealtimes or whether the clothes in your closet are in fashion. There is far more to your life than the food you put in the stomach, more to your outer appearance than the clothes you hang on your body. Look at the birds, free and unfettered, not tied down to a job description, careless in the care of God. And you count far more to him than birds.

I also felt deeply convicted by Matthew 7:1-5, but it's too humbling to share those verses here. That's not what this blog is about. But it makes a good segue.

I feel that Facebook should be more of a prayer community and less of a gossip chain. I want to send positive vibes to people when I see them share about a struggle. I also have to admit, I want to see people struggle once in a while. Some Facebook users rarely, if ever, post anything. Well is your life perfect or is something too terrible to share happening? I don't know!

Even if you feel you have nothing particularly significant to say, say just that. "Nothing particularly significant to share today." If you don't want to say anything at all, share a song or a picture. You're on the computer killing time anyhow. Why not?

Some FB users are just the opposite. They clog up the news feed, albeit with many interesting things, but I don't have time to read it all and still catch up with my other friends' pics, video shares, funny jokes, good news, and life concerns. If Facebook put me in charge of the next design, I'd probably create a function that allows users to set a weekly/daily limit of post shares from each friend. I mean some people have like a thousand friends. Realistically, if we believe everybody is equally important in the big scheme of things, why make a habit of burying one guy's comment with five or ten of our own?  That may have been the only comment some user posted all day or all week. Certain friends I'd like to hear from more, end up sharing less, I believe, because when they notice others clogging up the feed, they know they're tiny concern or cute joke will probably just get buried, and they think, nah, it's not that important. Well, for what it's worth, it was important to me.

I'm going to try and post on FB just once or twice a day, three or four days per week. I think that's acceptable. And I vow to prayerfully consider all the struggles my friends share, and to celebrate with my friends in spirit when they share good news. Isn't it fun to share good news? Knowing others take part in your joy? Isn't that just awesome? Facebook has such potential. We could maybe even use Facebook to elect an Independent presidential candidate next election. Jesse Ventura maybe? I'd even vote for a kid if he ran. I digress.

Juice Fast Days 27-28-29-30

Well today is Day 30. The most exciting thing about finishing this juice fast is the realization that I can make mistakes and still be successful in my goal. I binged on junk food last week, including a late night snack at Rhody Joe's one night of buffalo chicken nachos with extra blue cheese. Oh my lord, I'm salivating by just recalling the wet, greasy orgasm I had in my mouth that night. Oh it was heavenly. And the next day, I mustered up all my guilt and gave it to God, and told myself I could do better.

Juicing is really all about trying to do better. The biggest challenge for me was not mustering up willpower, but rather forgiving myself when I inevitably slipped up, and then getting back on track instead of indulging in self pity and self destructiveness for too long.

This morning I weighed myself, and the number on the scale read 125.5. This is incredible. My average weight has always fluctuated between 135-145, which is already not "fat" by most people's standards, so a 10 lb loss is significant. I'm optimistic it will be a long-term loss too, because my body has taken on a completely different shape than in my previous shorter fasts. On my 10 day juice fast in August, I went from 137 to 127, then gained it all back in September. But this 30 day juice fast, with the addition of regular yoga class attendance, made for a deeper and more visible transformation on the inside and out. Of course, only time will tell how long the impacts of my juicing will last, though I have no intentions of stopping just because 30 days have come and gone. 

I intend to continue juicing, now that I've experienced such relief from things so simple as just fitting into ALL my clothes. Even my skinny jeans, which I barely squeezed into when I received them as a gift 3 or 4 summers ago. My inner thighs don't rub when I walk. Yes, they touch, but they don't rub. BIG difference in comfort and confidence there.

Another thing I must reflect on is my attitude. While I've felt more confident and energetic, I've had to ask God to tame my tongue. During the last stretch of this fast, I began to feel entitled to guilt-trip others on what they feed themselves and their children. I became preachy, sarcastic, and just plain mean. Fortunately, some of who I'll always consider my truest friends, have called me out on this. You know who you are. Thank you for risking our friendship, whatever large or small scale that friendship may be, to let me know when enough was enough. We live in a world where it's hard to speak honestly and directly to one another without worrying about stepping on toes and hurting feelings. I think the best thing I can do when I make a mistake, is to thankfully accept the criticism, reflect on it quietly, repent, and apologize. I wrote some horrible things last week in my blog, and have since edited out the comments, but again, for anyone who saw a judgmental attitude and self-righteousness in me, please know that God exposed this bad root intentionally and I believe it has now been severed for good. If you are my friend, and you are reading this right now, please hold me accountable to love in all my actions going forward.

Though I'll continue my juicing, I'll be returning to blog topics which incorporate memory, reflection, and exposition. Thanks for being part of this journey with me.

Juice Fast Days 25-26

Well I'm a loser. I shouldn't even be calling this a juice fast anymore. Apparently I have no willpower. I was judgmental last week in one of my blogs, thinking nobody would notice. And here I am sitting in the exact weakness I recently judged in others. I will never run a marathon, have a real job, or be a mom. These are truths I have to live with everyday. So sometimes I resort to a fantasy world, on FB or Blogger, where I can pretend I have something to say or offer the world. Nope. Apparently not.

One time when I was abroad in London for college, like 12 years ago, our St. Lawrence group was on a bus and some girls started playing a "Would You Rather..." game, where you fill in the blank. I offered a very perverse "Would You Rather" question, and the whole bus went dead silent. Then one girl named Karen spoke up. She said, "I liked her better when she was quiet."

I just need to shut up and watch life go by. This is how I lived most of my life growing up. I was a watchful, "good" baby. I always wanted to be good and special. Who doesn't? And I am extra kind to mentally disabled and otherwise outcast individuals. I truly love these people whom society shuns. But when it comes to life and people in general, I suck! I need to go back to being "quiet." I'll be the nice, quiet, boring girl I was in high school. At least people seemed to like me then.

I'm too ashamed to leave an honest account of everything I've eaten in the last 2 days alone. There's 12 days until Thanksgiving, and I'm going to try and extend my juice fast during this time. So this is what I was thinking: I'm not beating myself up over having some occasional healthy treats - salad with dressing, roasted veggies with oil and salt, spirulina chips, and Fire Cider, during this juice fast. BUT, I had a total of 6 cheat days where I completely threw in the towel (5 of those 6 cheat days were this week alone!). So I'll make up for those days with an extra 8 days of juicing. I was supposed to finish the fast on November 13th, but I'll go until November 21st instead. Gotta finish strong.

My job went well this week. I bought a Groupon for 5 passes to KidzKastle in Warwick, and I took the 3-year-old Friday. She loved it. I could smell mold and poo in some of the play rooms, and I'm sure it was a huge germ fest, but I bought more Fire Cider at a local health food store last night and took a large swig to take care of any viruses I may have carried home.

I went to two yoga classes this week and ran a mile on the elliptical. The elliptical machine is much harder than the treadmill, and I could really feel it in my abs and buttocks.

My condo is getting new carpets put down today. As I write, it's Saturday morning. I spent the better part of Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday night taking everything out of my room to prepare for the carpet guys. Moving music equipment downstairs, along with other small pieces of furniture, drawers of clothes, and heavy bins of knickknacks, has been quite the workout. I'm hoping it will partially make up for this week of very bad diet choices.

Juice Fast Days 23-24

Well the cheating continues. I must be pms'ing. I'm actually a couple days late.

On Day 23 (Tuesday) I started the day out fine, and had two cups of apple/carrot/strawberry/ginger juice. I was fine and full all day until around 8:00 at night, at which point I drove to Shoguns, a Japanese Hibachi restaurant. There, I ordered the house soup and seaweed salad, and a water. It was amazing.

On Day 24 (Wednesday, my day off), I also started the day out fine. I made two cups of apple/carrot/ginger/mango juice and again was fine for the rest of the day. I went to Yoga at 6:30, and it was an extra hard workout. Lori took us into a folded eagle position and then transitioned us into warrior 3. Oh God. I had to start fantasizing about food at that point. After Yoga, I went to Shoguns (again!) and ordered the house soup, a seaweed salad, and a vegetarian avocado cucumber maki roll. I used extra wasabi and ginger, and dipped each piece of sushi in a heaping bowl of low sodium soy sauce, and the flavors made me perspire and nearly hallucinate. It was incredible. Then I went and got gas, and bought some snacks in the gas station. This is when I really threw in the towel. I bought a yogurt-covered fruit and nut bar, and a package of circus peanuts and caramel chew candies, which I sucked on in bed while reading.

I have to be honest. I really wanted to lie about all this cheating. From the very first cheat on Day 7 I wanted to lie. But honestly, what good does that do if someone else tries a juice fast and finds themselves weak on some days and strong on others? Maybe there are people that can go 10/20/30 days without cheating. I can't. I couldn't. Maybe I will in the future.

One good thing I can pat myself on the back for is this: I haven't had alcohol in almost a month. I don't think I've ever consciously avoided wine and margaritas for so long. I've also avoided coffee, milk, ice cream, and meat altogether during this fast. And I'm at the point where a cup or two of juice in the morning sustains me all day long. I'd like to continue a lifelong habit of morning juicing, skipping lunch, and having a light, healthy dinner. Apart from maintaining a healthier weight, this way of eating keeps my energy good. I don't get groggy or fatigued during the day.

I ran out of Boku green superfood powder drink mix last week and ordered more, but it takes so long to ship. I probably won't get my shipment until this fast ends, but when it comes, I'll be more inclined to drink my glowing green smoothie drink in the evenings. Those green smoothies are so filled with fiber, they fill me up. Not drinking them in the past several days is probably why my willpower broke down and made me cheat.

Juice Fast Days 21-22

I have some explaining to do about Day 21. It was a Sunday, and I woke up well-rested from the extra hour of sleep from daylight savings. As soon as I woke up, I felt I should read my bible, since I'd be going to an 11:00 church service. But I didn't read my bible. I went on FaceBook and also wrote a blog, and I said some very mean and immature things. I was feeling lofty in my own way of thinking about juicing and overall health.

After blogging I showered and made a carrot/apple/ginger juice and drove straight to church, only to get there an hour late, because the church meets at 10:00 instead of 11:00 on the first Sunday of each month. I didn't realize this because I just started attending a few weeks ago.

I missed the music and got there just in time for the sermon. It was strictly about loving one another, and a guest preacher read from the book of James. After the service I went to a music studio a few miles down the road where I've been working on a music album. I'd cancelled my new violinist because I couldn't afford her, and just used the session for vocal takes. I had a great session, and felt high on life: singing and juicing and my changing body and renewed energy and church and the beautiful sunny day it was.

After my recording session, I drove to Providence to meet my friend Fred. The first thing out of his mouth when I got there was about all the ruckus I'd caused with my blog. For the first time all day, I recalled the hurtful things I said at the end of the blog, and after driving around Providence with Fred for an hour and talking about history and neighborhoods and politics, I dropped Fred off and whizzed home to delete my "fat people are gross" commentary. I haven't even logged into FaceBook to see what I stirred up, but to whomever I insulted or hurt with my comments, I am truly sorry.

I don't mean to pick on fat people as if there is one stereotypical fat person. There are skinny fat people too. I should have said unhealthy. An unhealthy lifestyle does gross things to an unhealthy person's body. I need to be more sensitive about how I say things. I didn't even realize people read or cared about my blog. I figured the five or so hits a day I get on blogger are my mom, my aunt, Fred, and a couple other random people. Whatever happened on FaceBook Sunday, it caused me to get 35 hits on the blog, which I've edited as of last night.

I had a bit of a panic attack about how dumb I was. Fred said people were hurt and questioning my faith. He made it sound like I'd started WWIII. I'm so ashamed, and won't return to FB for a while. The social networking community is better off without my off kilter commentaries. I'd like to put a bag over my head. I went to bed early Sunday night, but woke up at 1:00 a.m. tossing and turning for over an hour, recalling my foolishness, then awoke again at 4:00 a.m. and drifted in and out of shallow sleep until my alarm went off at 5:30 and I woke up to a case of the Mondays.

Today, Monday, Day 22, I walked through my shame all day. I read the books of James, First and Second Peter, and First John while at work. Everything was about loving one another, just like yesterday's Sunday sermon. I've completely missed the mark. I also read today about Bio-Individuality (Roger Williams, 1956), a well proven theory that everyone's digestive system is unique. Everyone responds in a uniquely different way to various foods. There is no one perfect diet for everybody. What works for me isn't going to work for everyone else. And vice versa. A person's blood type can help determine what kind of diet his/her ancestors ate, and what foods he/she may or may not digest efficiently. So in a nutshell, I really have no place telling people what they should or should not eat. The best thing I can do is read the research and experiment on my own body to see what works for me.

In addition to reading the bible and the theory of Bio-Individuality today, I also binged on junk food. I was so disgusted with myself. I'm gross. I juiced in the morning, then ate a salad for lunch, then snacked on pistachios, 3 Oreo cookies, 1 chocolate truffle double-dipped in cream cheese, several peanut butter pretzel sandwiches dipped in cream cheese, a couple handfuls of apple chips and mango chips and yogurt covered raisins, a granola bar, and even a couple bites of the 3-year-old's macaroni and cheese, as well as two tootsie rolls from the older sisters' Halloween candy stash.

I got done work at 5:45 p.m. and went straight to Yoga. I feel a little better now but still hugely disappointed in myself. Hopefully tomorrow is a better day.