Armed with Cheesecake and Vodka, World Watch Out, I'm Back!

I have these papers that I need to do for a portfolio.  I like to post them on here, clean them up, edit them and perfect the main point and then print it off.  I have many papers that I need to write so this will be updated often.  You can comment how you like but just remember everyone has their own opinion.  You do not have to read about mine and I really don't want to hear yours unless it is worthy and non judgemental of my ideals and concepts. Since I am an older person, say in my early, very early 40's I can say without a doubt that many of my classmates as well as myself were bullied in school.  All grades had some sort of social ladder that only certain people were allowed to climb while the rest were gathered at the bottom waiting for the torment to start.  When a conflict arose, the end result was a fight at the end of the school day.  A face to face fight; off campus of course and we would end our feuds and transgressions with each other...

 Most teachers have a story of why they became a teacher.  Most teachers aren't teaching because of the money or the vacation time. There is some sort of story or motivation behind it. Here is my story. My childhood was wracked with emotional and physical abuse.  My parents were both alcoholics and when they divorced my mother started beating me on a regular basis.  The beatings started when I was in third grade and continued until I was a Junior in high school.   I enjoyed going to school.  It was a safe haven for me and I got to escape my reality for a few hours each day.  The only time I would miss days from school was when I had bumps or bruises that were visible.  When I would go back to school none of the teachers would question the fading discoloration areas on my face.  The teachers were allowed to hug you and such but stayed out of the students home life when it came to discipline. That all changed when I was in the fourth grade.  My teacher for that year was a stand up te...

Here in Virginia, along with most of the east coast are patiently waiting for Sandy to leave.  She hasn't even arrived yet, and I'm a bit interested in seeing the results.  I love storms, with the exception of losing power.  Everything is charged and ready to go.  iPad, iPod, iPhone, Nook, Laptop, flashlights.  Candles are visible and a few bags of ice are in the freezer.  I did go to the grocery store today, just to see what was going on.  There was no milk.  Now, I am wondering what these people are going to do with all of this milk when the power goes out.  Make hot chocolate or eat 3 boxes of cereal in one sitting.  Since I'm not really a milk drinker, I can't fathom having that much cow in my house.  There was also no bread nor bananas.  I can understand this, since I could live on peanut butter sandwiches forever.  Right now it is raining and I have my sliding door open and the temperature is going down.  ...

As we all go through life mistakes will be made and as I was told growing up, as long as you had learned something from the mistake it was okay. I am on a new path.  Well, actually it is an old, well used path that I wandered away from.  I have had the itch during the past 8 months to get back into teaching.  I missed being around the liveliness of the children as well as witnessing the looks on their faces when they succeeded at something that they thought was unattainable.  Well, for the past year I took some time from the work force, started my Master's degree in Elementary Education and spent time in classrooms to ensure that I would be able to handle the amount of energy that these young guns give off.  Good news, I knew I could handle being in the classroom and was looking forward to it.  I just recently started interviewing for teaching positions in the private schools and am looking forward to finding my classroom.  Oh and by the way, I was ...

I often wonder when the "right" time is. I havent written for almost a year. Things were very stagnant and I hit a low in my life and nothing was happy or sunny or funny enough to write about. I basically crawled under a rock for awhile until it was time to go out at night, in which I drownded my sorrows, went home, lather rinse repeat, you get the jist of it all. I went on a trip to the Smoky Mountains in Tennessee for a photo trip. There were 6 of us and many of us had extensive knowledge of our camera with the exception of, yours truly!! I loved the landscape and the area, and in fact looked athouses there as well. The people I was with were all very different. There was a retired male doctor from Dallas who insisted on always talking and if he was not interested in what you were talking about, he would change the subject right in the middle of someone else's sentence. There was another gentleman who was afraid of heights. Umm, we were in the mountains, goi...

I think of writing often, but then I forget the premise, the reason and the passion that I once had to write daily. Today I noticed the mistakes I have started to make in grammar and in spelling. I NEED to continue to write. I find myself spending more time and effort on the task at hand, rather than throwing the halfway done task out the window. The money spent to fix what I have started is enough to help diminish the feeling of "let's paint the entire house two colors" manicsode. That is what I call them now, manicsodes. I feel that this is a good thing, yet there are still times that I will just break down and zone out. This does not last as long and I am glad. Someone told me recently make sure to take time for me, and do what I want to do. I do miss writing, I miss continuing an education and I miss the moments that come naturally to me. Yes, I do still brush my teeth, thank you very much. This week is filled with holiday smells and people running th...

They say that it is good to write. It is good to write your feelings especially if one cannot express feelings to another. It helps to open the soul, help to heal, remember the good times, and reflect on the bad. I try to write every day, but most days I delete the things that I write, since I know other’s will read and feel the sadness in my heart. The sadness is one of the only things I have and at times I do not want to share the sadness, I want to keep it inside and countdown until I can go home, lay in bed and let out the sadness so no one can hear. I feel that I must stay strong for the people around me. I want others to see my as strong, that I can take care of myself and that I will survive. They do not need to know the truth of what really is going on in my heart and soul. Sometimes it seems like a battle. Not necessarily of good and evil but of love and guilt. I lay awake at night thinking of everything we had planned to do, how we were going to live and the memories...