SAVE JACKIE!!!

My dear friend and Co-worker, JacMac, has reached a new level of concern today, September 18, 2009. It has been a bumpy couple months for my little buddy, I understand this and have sympathy for her shortcomings and stupidity. Aside from her colorful personality and good looks of course, she is having a hard time finding another part-time or full-time job. I have taken the liberty of assisting her in the matter. This is the purpose for my blog today. Jac needs a job!

Don't get me wrong, she is a hard worker and very capable of doing great things in the work force... but when I glanced in her cubical today and noticed she was applying, on freaking Craigs List, to be a pimp for a company called, "Women-Finding-Women" I knew that the little voice inside my head was God asking me to reach out to a friend who has completely lost her morals for survival... I was horrified at first and then the opportunist in me gave her the address to my recreational basketball league that takes place every wednesday night, thinking I might get a small commissions check for leading her to a gold mine of "Women-Finding-Women-Weekly." She took down my reference J.I.C. (just in case) she has to actually take the pimp'n job to pay her car payment this month. ;)

This is where you, the reader comes in... If you have any references, ideas, friends, help wanted or leads on a job, leave a comment for Jackie on this blog so we can get her steady employment and save the face of her beautiful family. THANKS!

JacMac (in black)

Just a Little Story

I finally moved all my crap/important items into my drawers and closet today. I have had a mountain of clothes on the floor in my room that changes shape every time I dig through it for my next outfit. For the first time in weeks I can see my floor! It's TAN! Who would have known?!?! Feels good to have some order in my life. It is crazy to notice that once I start getting a little control in my life, other things start to get in order too... like my room.

 I love both my jobs, and I haven't been able to say that for the longest time now. The teacher I assist at the high school has been one of my favorite people/teachers for years now and I'm so excited to learn everything I can from her. She continues to teach me more and more about how to effectively influence and teach kids in our profession. I owe her so much for taking the time to help me with my craft.

The other day in class we did an exercise that really forced the kids to open up to one another and get to know the journey their classmates have been on in their lives, what their dislikes and likes are and so much more. When J.J.(teacher/friend) announced the activity we would be doing that day, you could see some of the kids were nervous about exposing their personal feelings, stories and qualities with the other students in class. But after a couple people opened up and shared, it was like a wild fire spread across the desks, everyone was becoming more comfortable and honest. I would have never known how inspiring and strong my students were until this day in class. I am so impressed with what kids can endure and overcome these days. I have been inspired by the honesty and life stories of each and everyone of these students. That day in class really helped me put my life in perspective and find my footing again. I thank them and hope they know that I support and believe in their abilities to become who they dream.

My Techno Alias

It has recently come to my understanding that I will occasionally take on a completely different personality when texting. Of course it is different with close friends who know me and interact with me on a daily basis, but when you meet someone new, someone you have no obligation to, it is incredibly entertaining to mess with them by creating a new "you" through your text messages just to see how they will react or respond. Interestingly enough, my text alias seems to intimidate or entertain the most conditioned text messenger. I LOVE IT. But when is living in this text message world too much?

We can become anyone we want through text, it's empowering. I understand that. For some reason it gives you a sort of high becoming and portraying yourself in a way you most likely wish you could be. I've decided it is actually quite frightening what we can become. The funniest part is I more often than not, find people more entertaining and attractive through text messaging. That's incredibly hilarious and SAD. How impaired have we become interacting face-to-face? I almost rather text date than actually date in some instances. I hope you don't find me rude, but people are becoming less and less well-rounded as the years go on and become more technology driven. Where did the depth go? We'll read 1,000 texts a day, but won't pick up a classic by Hemingway. It's complete bull shit. There aren't many people you can head to coffee with these days and leave knowing the conversation at hand was life changing or enlightening. Instead, your coffee date will most likely go like this, you grab your coffee, sit down in a uncomfortable contemporary steel chair, exchange a few sentences of dialogue and proceed to text message some "fake" person on the other end of your mobile phone. Unless that "fake" person on the other end of that text message is me, that shit is not worth ignoring the flesh and blood sitting across the table from you. I'd like to challenge everyone to get a grip and freshen up on their social skills in reality and not technology. Soon "sexting" is going to be considered better than actual sex! This is a road that might solve the filthy distribution of S.T.D.'s, S.T.I.'s and H.I.V., but seriously, let's not play it too safe. 

SAY CHEEEEEESE!!!!!

Back to school. It's the first school year in my life that I am not a student. It is crazy to realize how much of my identity was "student." Although, I might not be a student, I am still mistaken as one, and not in a good way. As most of my reader's know, I am going to be a high school teacher and I am currently a T.A. right now at the school I will work for until the semester change, when I should hopefully have a job teaching. Now, when ever you start a new job, you want to seem as though you are qualified for that job, right? I know that I'm qualified, I have the degree and shit, but it's hard to be confident when you are walking down the hall of the high school you work at and your fellow faculty member asks you where your hall pass is because they think you are a student. I'M TWENTY FOUR YEARS OLD. Embarrassing. This is only where my story begins. 

So I remember why they had me do all those story problems when I was in high school, it was for future reference like this, my problem solving skills were being finely tuned and ingrained in me to solve all sorts of problems in my life. So I saw the problem and I came up with a solution, I would make my hair a little less fun, dress in dull colors, act serious or mad and stop smiling so much. This was my new image and hopefully would make me look more like a teacher. My first day in my new image was picture day! O' joy! I hate pictures, always have. Every picture in my childhood has me frowning in a camouflage outfit. I would wear nothing but camo when I was a kid, I must have known that my life would be an ongoing battle for attention. 

I approached the lady at the photo counter who had all the information and the cards with names on them to give the photographer when it was your turn to be photographed and documented into the archives of horrible year book pictures taken by Life Touch Photography. Bastards, they always catch me when my smile is deflating and limp making me look like I have a crazy case of Bell's Palsy. The woman at the counter looked me up and down and said, "Senior?" I responded with, "Ugh, I'm twenty four years old." She gave me the pity look you get when you are inadequate at something, searched the faculty file for my name and handed it over with a hopeless glance. Great! I still look 16. Now I just look sixteen, boring and angry. It didn't end there though, the lady who prepares you for the photographer thought I was a Junior and the photographer thought I was well developed Senior. I knew he thought I was well developed because he couldn't take his pretty blue eyes of my rack. Is it like a prerequisite when applying for a photography job that you have to be a perv? Cause I qualify and need a second job. Think I look old enough to get the job, because I'm sure they aren't hiring Juniors and Seniors in high school!?!?!

When telling this story to a friend, she answered, "At least you look young!" Let me remind you all about the theory of age; it is not good to look young when you need to look older to be credible, e.g. when buying beer with your I.D. that no longer looks like you because you change your hair length and color every month, leaving both you and your I.D. photo looking underage and unalike. Now on the other hand, it is also not good to look old when you need to look younger, e.g. after your husband of 25 years leaves you for a younger woman (it is my personal believe that men age better than women) and you are left trying to find a new financial plan(male) but they're all swooping the younger chicks, leaving you screwed and penniless. I need to look older by next week and I have to stop laughing at the students when they disrespect authority. 

Butterfly Effect

Finally!!! I'm out of the twin (one seater) and back in my big kid bed (two seater). My bed has been used as THE symbol of my maturity with friends for a while now. It might be funny to tease a twenty three... shit... twenty four year old for sleeping in a twin sized bed, but I want to prove them wrong right now, just for shits and giggles and because a new blog has once again been demanded from one of my four readers. 

I just want you all to know that I have not outgrown that bed, and I feel like I am so immature that I should probably have characterized sheets and an oversized stuffed animal that smells like years of cuddling and drool. I felt like a high schooler today. I've finally developed a strong crush, and for the first time since high school, I changed my outfit like 9 times and freaked out that my hair wouldn't look sloppy perfectly. Having short hair makes perfection look silly, but when it won't look messy "perfectly", then I see red. Now to me having a crush seems so adolescent and juvenile. I had a friend tell me like a month ago that she had a crush, I responded with, "Aren't we too old to have those?" I'd like to publicly retract my last statement on "crushes" and say, "No, we are not too old to crush!" And after worrying about money, sanity, school and what I'm going to eat next (my biggest decision of everyday), having a crush is a great vacation from worry. 

Now, what to wear?!?! I haven't unpacked anything from my move and I've been wearing the grossest outfits all week. They've probably noticed, huh! Why do I care? Now this is why I've missed having a crush, because they make me get ready in the morning... and the make-outs are way better. Okay, I like crushes mainly because the make-outs are better. And this is my explanation for that, maybe pressure makes everything better? Developing a crush puts pressure on the situation and in-turn makes everything that happens within this "crush" you have developed and created in your head worth while. Now that is my butterfly effect theory! I can hold hands, kiss and cuddle with anyone, but it is only the ones I crush on that give me butterflies. I'm attracted to the other ones and interested, but the crush makes the difference. I think it is all psychological really. I've missed my crushing abilities. I got to get ready! 

To be continued...

Home~ Sweet~ Home~

I'm sitting here (well actually laying on my twin bed, yeah I know twin beds are for kids or college students living in a dorm, I am neither of those), in my room, wondering where to start first when it comes to packing your life away. I'm moving out of my parents house for the last time. One might look at my age and say, "It is about damn time Chels", but I have really enjoyed moving in, then moving out, then back in five or six times in my young adult life... Okay, I Lied. It's a pain in my ass, but at least I got to see my mom everyday here and there.

Although, it is strange moving this time, knowing that it is the last time this home will be mine. Stupid I know, how as humans we create these strong attachments to material things we have decided to give sentimental value to in our lives, but in my pathetic defense, we moved into this home the year I was born and it has been my safety zone and home base my whole life. Every time I've screwed something important up in my life, I've come back to home base to pick my ass back up, swallow my pride and start over. Whether it be quitting a basketball team, getting kicked off a basketball team, changing colleges, or most importantly ruining my relationship with someone I loved, they all led me back to home base to rehabilitate myself and cope. I'm scared as hell for my next screw up to say the least because I won't be able to run home, my roommate Chip will have to talk me off the top step at our new place... seriously the staircase is huge... at least broken arm worthy. She is soft spoken, caring and logical, don't worry, I'll be fine.

While packing, I've been thinking about all my memories here. I want to thank my siblings for every great childhood memory I've had with them. My best friend and brother Dave and all our adventures together all over the neighborhood and in our imaginary world we would create with lego's and action figures. My little sister for all the fights and drama. My oldest brother for the torture and finding my sister-in-law Kaydee who is like one of my own sisters and best the decision he has ever made. My sister Danielle for her humor, care and designer couch to make-out on because I don't dare do it on Howie's couch. My sister and best friend Katrina, for always being my best escape from reality, her connection with me that gives her the skill to know when I need her most and always being there for me, and MOST importantly for always understanding my oddness. I love you guys and miss you so much. I had the best childhood because of my siblings and parents. And don't worry, I didn't forget you Levi. I will always look back on my memories with my best pal Levi who grew up across the street from me. I'm so proud of him and what he has made of his life. I love you buddy.

I want to thank my parents for building a home that can be a happy memory for us all, not just my family but all the friends who have spent hours sitting around the bar in the kitchen hanging out and eating my mom's amazing cookies. We will all miss 2288 in Williamsburg. I try and understand how it all worked out over all these years. My parents could possibly be exact opposites, but they built something that worked for me and hopefully the rest of my family. I'll miss watching TNT double header's on Sundays with my dad, and always rooting for the team playing the Jazz, just to get his competitive side surfaced again. I still hate Karl Malone purely to tick my dad off. My dad with his tough side that only covers up what a softy he really is. He is my biggest supporter, fan and buddy. Through basketball and now school, he wants me to achieve my dreams. I thank and love him for being a dreamer too. My mom, my closest and best friend ever. I will miss our talks laying in her bed on any given afternoon. Our cokes with sonic ice and the unofficial book club we've created together because of our love of literature. Her voice and hugs that always calm me down on a stressful day. All her sayings in her soft spoken voice and her ability to love and connect with any and all of my friends. She is the ideal mom and best friend. She fills the two major roles in my life and that is why when I think I've lost everything, I have everything in her. I love you guys so much and I love my memories here and can't wait to build a home and memories with the one I love.

Bad Luck... Equals New Beginnings.

I don't like to think that there is such a thing as Karma, because it makes me feel doomed every time I make fun of some random misfortunate looking soul, as I point and laugh while saying, "your team" to my nearest friend. It just makes the statement, "karma is a bitch" make so much more sense to me though, because I am a bitch, which in turn makes karma one. I need to be nice, maybe. Bad karma is not a good time.

After thinking a lot about my life, I realized that I have had a series of misfortunate events these past couple months, whether they be let downs or mess ups, I'm not fully aware of why they are happening to me. Is it bad luck, or bad karma? Now, I can look at this negatively and feel sorry for myself or take the higher road and realize, whether it is bad luck or karma, improving myself is never a bad thing, so why not do it regardless of whether it cures my karma or not. Improvement is needed now and fast, before loss of sanity happens.

I've felt almost every emotion there is possible to feel in the last couple of months. As much as I've hurt, been frustrated or even been happy, I am thankful for the ups and downs because I have never felt more alive. I have put walls up and missed out on some great opportunities because of my past let downs, this is only hurting me more. It is okay to be vulnerable and honest with how you feel and what you really want. It is the only way to be happy. There are things we lose and gain during the trials of our lives, somethings we will miss and other things we can do without. It's refreshing to know that you can do without somethings and there is only more to gain by letting go. Whether it be in relationships, careers or friends. I've found that you can only build from what you've lost and in turn won't settle for anything less than what you have already had if you value yourself and your worth. I'm ready for bigger and better things, hopefully self improvement will give me luck or create a that better karma I need.