but if i move my place in line, i'll lose

91 Days

2006-03-02T23:50:00.000-08:00

That's how many days are left until Jaron and I tie the knot. Lately, I've been just a tiny bit stressed out and not having any fun planning the wedding. We have definitely made some progress in the plans, and I am feeling much better. According to Katie and Sarah, I have got to get more excited and start having some fun planning our big day. I'm really, really trying.

Yesterday, Jaron and I found some great pink ribbon for our invitations and some pink linen for the tables. We also met with Robert at the Uark Bowl and talked about how the tables, florals, food etc would be arranged. It was the first time I could really picture all of our family and friends celebrating at the reception, and I have to tell you I got a little verklempt. It definitely helped me to know that no matter what happens in the next 91 days, our wedding will be beautiful, I will be with the people I love, and I will be married to the perfect guy for me. I can finally say that I am excited about this time of my life. If you see me and I'm acting like Debbie Downer about all this wedding stuff again, tell me to come back and read my blog, ok? Thanks.

Well, I'm subbing at Holt Middle School tomorrow so I better hit the hay. I'll try to post again before the wedding, but don't hold your breath because you might die. My track record for posting on this thing is not so great.

Spanish for Spanish Speakers

2005-11-22T22:39:00.000-08:00

Jeidy, Jairo, Anselmo, Gerson, Crissol... I scan the names... maybe, I can use last names instead. Contreras, Guiterrez, Moscoso, Oropeza, Pacheco... maybe, not.

What are they saying? My stomach clenches, forms a knot. They're laughing; they're looking at me. They can tell I'm uneasy, and they are already using it against me. What are they saying?

A boy ducks down by his desk, believing he is out of my sight, and whistles. He straightens in his chair, a smirk spreading across his face. This is the game he has been playing for the last fifteen minutes. He whistles, I look up, He stops. very funny.

"Who didn't bring anything to read with them to class?" Crickets chirp, a tumblewood rolls by, blank stares. I am forced to leave a note for the teacher telling her that I have no idea who actually brought their reading materials because no one will answer me.

Two boys won't stop talking, Ulises and Roberto. I move Roberto to another table. He stares at me for ten minutes straight, barely blinking. He finally takes his eyes off of me, but only to get the attention of Blanca, the girl sitting in front of him, so that he can tell her something in Spanish, his eyes now back on me. He is laughing and nodding in my direction.

I think I'm going to throw up.

Only 30 minutes have passed.

I'm nauseous and on the verge of tears. I have to do this five more times today.

I ask another boy to tell me his name because I have already asked him politely three times not to talk because it is a reading day. He says it is Marcos. The class snickers. There is no Marcos on the roster for this period. No one will tell me who he really is. They are rallying against me. Finally, a girl that is sitting at the table in front of the teacher's desk takes pity on me. She writes his name on a small piece of paper and flashes it discreetly at me. "Hugo" "Thank you," I mouth.

The whistler picks up the room phone. The one that I am afraid I will have to use to call the office when I lose complete control. I tell him to put it down, and suprisingly, he does.

He picks it up again. I lose it. I yell, "Put that down now. If I see you pick that phone up one more time, I will send you to the office." Combined with a look that screams, "TRY ME," my threat works. The class is silent, and for five minutes, I am victorious.

The morning creeps by. I am fighting the urge to roam the halls of Springdale High during lunch, writing down the name of every ESL and Spanish for Spanish Speakers teacher I can find. That would assure that I would never be subject to a day like this again. It should be a crime to let substitutes walk into this blindly. It's cruel, inhumane.

Toward the end of the day, I'm beginning to think someone is playing a joke on me. I start to analyze the room and predict where the hidden cameras are and where the people are waiting to jump out when the bell rings at 3:13 pm. Maybe, I will win a new car or a trip to Paris for staying the whole day...

3:13 pm. The bell rings, the students leave. No one jumps out. No free car. No Eiffel Tower. I don't care, I don't have another 30 pairs of eyes (yes, 30; I have 30 people in all of my classes, but one.) watching me squirm, and that's reward enough.

When the secretary says, "Well, how did it go?" I bite back the truth of how my day really went. I force the words, "Did someone add eight extra hours to the day?" and "You know, maybe, you should give people a Valium or at least, some Rolaids when they sub for this class" back down my throat. Why? I don't know. Maybe, I'm embarrassed that those kids knew they had the upper hand at the beginning, and I never managed to get it back. Instead of the truth, I laugh (nervously) and say, "Today... Oh, it was fine." I hand in my badge and key, practically skip to my car.

In my car, I lay my head onto my steering wheel, I take deep breathes, I turn on the radio, I sing along.

222 days...

2005-10-24T12:09:00.000-07:00

that's how many days left until i get married! yay!

newsflash: i can hear what your saying

2005-10-09T15:07:00.000-07:00

"she was a tartlet. she took everything. it was gone before i knew it. i thought he would at least want to sleep on it or talk it over but... it was done. 'i want a divorce.' that's what he told me..."

where do you think a conversation like this should take place? at home? in your car? in a park at least 30 feet from anyone else? those are all good suggestions.

i overheard this conversation verbatim at chili's while waiting on tables. a woman in her late 40's or 50's had brought her two college aged sons to chili's to tell them that their father had been cheating on her and that although she had thought they could work it out, he didn't even want to try.

AWKWARD.

it's really hard not to eavesdrop on people when your job is to come to their table and talk to them. i'm not even sure i would call it eavesdropping. that woman and her sons weren't even at one of my tables. they were at a table beside my section. she looked desperate, tired, overwhelmed, and scared. she barely ate anything, and she was the topic of conversation in the kitchen. everyone kept saying, "what a freak! why would you come to chili's and tell your family that?" part of me thought that too as i walked by and saw the confused and hurt looks on her sons faces staring down at their table. but then, i tried to understand why she might do that. maybe, she needed a public place to keep her composure so that she could tell them everything that they needed to know. i don't know.

eventually, they left, leaving three full plates of food and wads of tear-stained napkins behind. i was relieved to be able to walk past that area of the restaraunt without feeling like an intruder on a very private family moment.

around 9:30 or 10, i got my cut slip and happily began cleaning my tables to go home. as i approached one of my booths to fill the salt and pepper shakers and the sugar caddy, clean the ketchup bottle, and count the coasters, i heard a girl's voice, "he's abusive, you know. i know he is; she just won't admit." then a guy's voice, "he hit her? are you sure?" "i'm positive." "what she needs is a big fat guy. a big fat guy that will take care of her, protect her, and feel special that she's with him."

AWKWARD.

a big fat guy? what kind of advice is that? what she needs is no man at all until she can take care of herself. after she's accomplished that, maybe, MAYBE, she should be in a relationship. maybe.

unfortunately, i have to be at work in 30 minutes. i'll let you know if anything interesing comes up in conversation at my tables. here's a tip for you for your future dining experiences: servers hear everything and so do the tables around you.

a hug would still be nice...

2005-06-22T02:30:00.000-07:00

i'm feeling much better. all of this was brought on because my dad decided to give me a call and chat for a few minutes right before i went to bed. the insatiable urge to hop immediately into my car and drive seven hours to visit my parents has subsided, and my unnatural fear of zombies is under control. i think i'll finally get some sleep.

good night.

will somebody give me a hug? anybody? please?

2005-06-22T01:57:00.000-07:00

i can't sleep. whenever i can't sleep, i think about different things that make me upset like jaron being away or my family being so far away and what i would do if something were to ever happen to any of them. really horrible stuff. i don't think about it on purpose. it's just what my brain seems to settle on. thinking about all of that makes me very emotional, which usually makes me cry and stay awake even longer because my brain is full of horrible thoughts and going 90 miles a minute, and i can't breathe out of my nose.

i've been missing my dad a lot lately. it's really weird because i never would have considered us close. i guess i've just begun to see how human my dad really is, and it's heartbreaking. he's my dad. he's up there with wolverine and batman. but lately when we talk, it's about bills and money and not having enough of it. he talks to me about jordy, and how he is going to teach her how to drive a stick shift, and all i can think is, you never taught me how to drive a stick shift... what about me? and for a few minutes, i'm jealous of a thirteen year old.

you spend your whole life wanting to be in the next stage of your life, and when you get to the place that you always thought you wanted to be, you realize that the other parts weren't so bad. they were just different.

the past few nights, i've had a couple of nightmares. one of them had zombies in it. you may laugh, but it really wasn't funny. hordes of them pressed in around the house where my parents, sister, a few aunts, uncles, cousins, and i had boarded the windows and prayed that we would be safe. eventually, they got in because they always do. instinctively, i instructed everyone to hit them in the head with whatever you could get your hands on. one by one, i watched my family get picked off until a handful of us were left. i felt myself give up in the dream. even in my dreams, i didn't have the power to drive the zombies out and save myself.

i've decided that death by zombie would be a horrible way to go.

and you may ask yourself - how did i get here?

2005-06-10T08:12:00.000-07:00

i bought the new coldplay album, and it's amazing. they are in my top five favorite bands, and they have been since i bought their first album my senior year of high school. listening to their albums gives me an insatiable need to create something musical. i never do, but it still has that effect on me. i don't know how i would begin to create anything anyway. the only instrument i can play is the trombone. i know, i know. don't laugh... ok, you can. it's funny. i don't know where my trombone is though. it must be at my parents house somewhere. i hope they didn't sell it because it was a nice one, and who knows, maybe i will feel the need to provide some brassy entertainment somewhere some day. ok, not likely.

i think when my work schedule isn't so sporadic, i will take piano lessons. maybe, after a few years, i can quit my day job and become a lounge singer. ok, also not likely. i would just like to be able to play something beautiful. i can't imagine what it must have been like after jimmy eat world listened to "clarity" in it's entirety for the first time or deathcab "transatlanticism" or fleetwood mac "rumors." to be able to say, "i made that" must be an overwhelming feeling.

i have several friends from high school who are in bands. they have no intention of getting real jobs or going back to school. they work enough to pay their bills and spend countless hours writing, recording, mixing, loving their music. i'm insanely jealous of them. not jealous enough to alter my plans, but just the right amount of jealous to be irked that they are so carefree, and i'm not. i'm jealous like the man in his minivan with his wife of 15 years and their 4 kids who looks over at a stoplight to see a young guy in an awesome sports car with the top down. hopefully, he would never trade his life with his family for the fast lane, but he is annoyed that that guy is on the road.

my friends do produce wonderful music, and i suppose, it's enough for me to appreciate it and feel because i know them and what the songs really mean, i am a part of it. mostly, it's just hard to swallow because i feel, in a sense, that i have left them behind. i'm no longer a part of their scene. when i talk to them, they ask me what bands i'm listening to now, and i can't honestly think of anything new and have to admit to myself that i don't have time to find new underground music any more and that when i'm in the car, i'm usually preoccupied and i leave the radio on instead of putting in some new ultra-cool cd that i just bought.

"everybody knows it hurts to grow up," and i guess i am. the larger rational part of me knows that although i may be stressed sometimes about finances or finishing school and starting a career or making the biggest commitment that you can make, getting married, i'm incredibly happy with the way my life is playing out, and i wouldn't trade it to go every weekend to rock shows of bands i don't even like but am supposed because they are indie and cool or to work at guitar center and hope that my commission is good enough this week to help pay for a grungey van that can take me across the country on a tour that will leave me in debt instead of bringing me insurmountable fame and fortune.

i love my friends, i love the fact that in two years i get to work with kids and hopefully, help them get excited about learning, and even though i never thought i would say this about anywhere in arkansas, i love where i live. i love my family, and i love jaron. i'm excited about where we are going and what the next years of our lives together will be like. i'm finally beginning to let go, roll down the windows of my car, and proudly sing along to "since you've been gone" on the radio. putting in my new coldplay album and saying, "wow, they created something amazing" is enough for me.

i know how i got here, and there's no other place i'd rather be.

9 to 5, for service and devotion. you would think that i would deserve a fat promotion, want to move ahead, but the boss won't seem to let me.

2005-05-20T10:15:00.000-07:00

the last few weeks have been pretty hectic. graduation was last saturday, and i'm glad it's over. i've been really lazy the past few days. i've gone to work, but when i'm not at work, i don't do much of anything except lay by the pool. it's starting to become a boring routine. i start my new job at chili's on saturday, and i'm not sure what to expect since i've never waited tables before.

it looks like i'll only be at pier 1 for 2 or 3 more weeks. after i talk to my new manager at chili's on saturday about how many hours he can give me, i'm going to put in my two weeks notice. at this point, even if he said he could only give me 15 hours a week, i would still quit pier 1. it's just not worth the hassle. i can't stand my manager. i know what you are thinking, jamie, you won't always like your boss; are you just going to quit every job that you have if you don't like your boss? the answer to that is no. this is not my career. thank God. it's just a job. my boss is disrespectful, plays favorites, and knows nothing about what he is doing. i don't have any more patience left for him. the thought of going to work makes me angry because i know when i get there i will have to clean up after him and do all the projects he was too lazy to do himself. wednesday night, i had to redo the gallery wall, the wall with all the mirrors and shelves on it, by myself. it was a nightmare. some of the mirrors are really heavy, and balancing on the top rung of an 8 foot ladder holding a mirror in a wrought iron frame half my size is not my idea of a good time. maybe, it's just me. maybe, i'm being a baby. at this point, i just don't care. hopefully, everything will go well at chili's on saturday. we'll see. the idea of only working at pier 1 for 3 more weeks is really exciting.

my family came to visit me for graduation, and it was really great to see them. i wish they lived closer so it wouldn't be so choatic when they came to visit. it looked like they were moving in. you couldn't walk in my room because they brought so much stuff. they were only here for 5 days, but they packed like they were staying until august. my mom, sister, and grandma each brought at least 4 pairs of shoes. my apartment seemed empty and quiet after they left. i'm not sure why it was so hard for me to see them go this time. usually, i'm ok with it because i know i will see them again. i even have my next visit planned. something about them leaving hit a chord this time.

i guess i should get ready for work. i'm supposed to be there in 45 minutes, and i'm still in my robe.

with your feet in the air and your head on the ground, try this trick and spin it

2005-05-01T22:18:00.000-07:00

dead day is friday. thank God. i'm at the end of my rope with school. let's just hope i pass history of literature a.k.a the suckiest class on the planet. i think i have made it possible to get a C so everything should be ok. i'm an English major. this is the only English that has ever made me think, "i'd rather shove blunt pencils through my eyelids than listen to this man talk for an hour and twenty minutes." luckily, i only have to sit through one more of his lectures. wooooooooo!

tomorrow, i'm going to fill out job applications. the idea of staying at pier 1 makes me want to scream. ever since we got a new manager in november, it has been a nightmare. it wouldn't be so bad, but one of the other assisstant managers is ridiculous. she takes copious notes in a tiny spiral notebook constantly. then, she has meetings with my nightmare of a manager in the office with the door closed. i'd give my right arm to see what's in that notebook. seriously. she told one of the associates that she wants me to quit. that's the only reason that i want to work at pier 1 until i die. just to spite her. she'll probably get her way though. i'm going to try to find a part time job and work at the new place and pier 1 for a little while until i decide whether it would be better to continue working at both jobs or quit pier 1 altogether. we'll see.

on a more positive note, my mom, grandma, and sister are coming to visit me in 10 days! i haven't seen them since january. this will be the first time my grandma has ever come to see me in fayetteville so it should be fun. it's also the first time my family will see my new apartment. i miss them a lot so i'm really excited to see them.

unfortunately, i have to be at work at 6 am tomorrow. barf. i promise i'll try to update more often.

riiiiiiiight.

2005-04-14T20:18:00.000-07:00

well, i had a livejournal, but in the end, jaron and terra were right. blogs are better. i figured it might be nice to have a place to write about stuff so maybe, i'll keep up with this better than the livejournal. we'll see.

i have exactly 3 weeks of school left. i'm pretty excited, which is refreshing. i say it's refreshing because i don't do well with change. i cried on the last day of junior high. no one is sad to leave junior high. just me. i'm horrible with change, but for the first time in my life, i feel like i am ready to move on to the next chapter. i'm excited about what the next year has in store for me. it's a good feeling.