Change in the Weather

Remind me not to open my mouth too soon.

I am guilty of continually being overly optimistic.

Two bad days. And now N wants out of the program. We're meeting with his mom on Wednesday next week.

I'm disappointed, but then again, if his behavior was to continue the way it had been, I would have kicked him out. So today we talked about job skills, and we talked about getting through high school, and I told him that I offer tutoring here in the afternoons, and I think we left on good terms, but a big part of me just wants to cry.

Because I don't know how to fix everything for these kids. I don't know what to do for them to make it all better. And I guess I don't have to make it all better- I only have to be there for them when things are bad.

But today, I want to find a training opportunity on the net for adult literacy. Then, maybe I during the meeting on Wednesday, I can say, Hey, we'll be offering adult literacy here pretty soon, would you like us to contact you when that is up and running? N's mother had previously told me she was interested in finally learning how to read. And N can read, but not very well, and it would surely help him in school if he were to raise his ability level.

Time goes on.

Funny story- yesterday, Yesica and I did outreach by taking a walk through the neighborhood and passing out condoms and information on STDs and HIV/AIDS. We came upon a group of young men, including N, and one of my guys from RCIA, and we passed out the goody bags, and they were laughing, saying, "How did yous guys know this is exactly what we were wanting?"

As we headed on, some more of their friends came out- these guys were older, 20 or so. They ran after us asking for some bags too. We gave them some bags, got their ages, and were walking away when one of them asked, "Hey, you got a boyfriend?" Yesica turned around and said, "We don't offer that."

Back in Chicago, Part II

Only last night did I finally catch up on the sleep I missed during my vacation to TN.

But it was all cool. I wasn't really droopy or sleepy or even feeling that bad, I was just kind of aware from time to time that I wanted to get a really long night's sleep at some point. So last night I did.

N came back to CCP lab last Wednesday, and told me that in fact, he did not go to the doctor, nor was he going to. He was moody, and once again, it was like pulling teeth to get him to do his work. So I told him off.

I said, Look, you were going to go to the doctor to see if they could help you, because something needs to change if you're going to make it in this program. So if you don't go to the doctor, that's fine, but that means that you have to change by yourself. I told him that he had Thursday and Friday to prove to me that he deserved to belong to the program, or he was out, because I wasn't going to put up with his yelling and complaining and not getting his work done.

So he came in Thursday, and did much better than Wednesday. Then he came in Friday, and did much better than Thursday. He came in forty minutes late today. He said he had gone to eat. I asked him why he didn't go earlier and he shrugged his shoulders. So I said, "Next time go earlier. Don't come in late anymore." So he shrugged again, with a half-smile, and said okay, in a way that was not dismissive, but that actually suggested that he meant it.

He was personable and productive- got all his stuff done without complaining. He talked to me about a lot of things, and generally seemed to enjoy himself today. Sr. Angie, Oscar, and Diana all said that it was because they like it when you're firm with them but still show them you care. Sr. Angie cited one conversation in particular that I had with N where he was telling me that they found cats on Mars. I disagreed with this assertion, and we talked about it, and other related outer-space topics off and on the rest of the day. Sr. Angie said he probably very rarely had people disagreeing with him about things like that without making fun of him. So I respect him, but demand respect in return. That, combined with J not being there to fight with and play with, and it makes for a much more productive and enjoyable CCP lab.

But here's a bit about my trek to TN:

We took the greyhound bus to Memphis last Tuesday, hardly slept at all, and were crazy-tired the rest of the day. That night, Mom took Michael and I and my sisters Anna and Mary to this Italian restaurant, and I had toasted ravioli for the first time, and several glasses of sweet tea, which you can make any time, but it is really nice to be able to get it in restaurants. I got to meet Mom and Dad's, and Anna's new puppies, who are mad-crazy frisky. And cute.

Dad hooked us up with some Eddie Izzard DVDs and tapes, so Michael and I were well entertained the next day.

Thursday, we headed to Murfreesboro by way of Lawrenceburg. We stopped by to see Grampa in the hospital, and met Joan in the hall. He was only supposed to have visitors for 15 minutes, but we snuck in and wound up hanging around for about 35. He really didn't look too great, but he had a good color, and everyone kept saying how much better he looked, so I tried to see him from their perspective. He was definitely happy to see us, and rather talkative, which was one thing cited often as a good sign. (Michael said he was surprised and happy that Grampa seemed happy to see him- since he had never seemed happy to see him before :) We went and visited with Joan at the house for awhile, helped her a bit with the computer, and enjoyed listening to her battle-against-the-loggers stories. Go, Joan!

Once in M'boro, we spent some time finding people- and wound up over at Trevor and Bone's apartment, where we stayed for the duration. I went to Liquid Smoke to play the open mike I always used to play (It's changed a lot in nine months- I don't know anyone now, and I almost didn't get to play except that one guy who was scheduled didn't show up. It wasn't great, but it made me happy, and fulfilled my nostalgia quota).

Friday night we went to La Siesta and drank way too many margaritas with Duke and Gilley. Later we went to hang out with Autumn, who is moving this summer to Kentucky for grad school. I made a point to be happy for her and not think about how this meant that she wouldn't be around when we came for visits in the future. From now on, we'll have to go out of our way to see each other. Sad story.

Saturday morning, we went to the zoo with Molly and Eric and Ian, and we played in a huge playground. That night, Michael role-played with the boys while I headed to Nashville to hang out with my circle of friends up that way. We watched Labyrinth, and drank butterscotch schnapps, and talked of silly and serious things, and then suddenly realized it was 2:00am.

Then I stopped by Cindy's house on the way home to see Nikki, who was sick and therefore couldn't come to Winn's to watch Labyrinth. And Cindy, my fellow Harry Potter freakhead, showed me the long preview for the next movie, and we squealed with delight at how awesome it's going to be. So if anyone wants to send me hundreds of dollars of movie gift certificates so that I can see it many dozens of times, I won't object...

Oh! And Christi gave me a Trinity (from the Matrix) T-shirt, and Cindy gave me a copy of "V" (my film debut), and Elizabeth gave me hand crafted hemp necklaces.

Oh! And Elizabeth drove in from Atlanta to see me that night! She came in at midnight! It was so cool, because I really didn't think I'd get to see her this visit, but she came anyway!

And Fred and I talked about Hispanic culture, and Crys is moving up.. this weekend I think... to Murfreesboro, so I'll definitely get to see her again next time I visit. And I got to see Mylena too!

But then, :(, I was very tired when I got back to M'boro, and it was 4:00, and I went to pick up Michael, and I saw my adopted brother Jeremy, but was too tired to really get to hang out. So next time.... Calvinball! Yeah.

And then Gus chewed up my shoes. I ordered some new shoes on line, and they should be coming in today, but I've been wearing my running shoes ever since, 'cause they're the only shoes I have now except for my snow boots, and it's making my feet smell. But Mom was nice enough to pay for my new shoes even though the ones she was replacing were like 5 years old, because they were Dr. Martens, and those things last forever.

What? Who's Gus? Just some guy I know...

Back in Chicago, Part I

Okay, Spring is here, and hormones are flying about like pollen, affecting everything.

Normally, as I walk down 47th to the Western bus stop, I get a few honks. People in Chicago just honk. It's what they do. It's part of life. Two short beeps. That's the standard.

So, yesterday, when I was walking home, I was not surprised to get a wolf whistle straight off. But I was a bit surprised when I got several long beeps. Usually, that happens when it's someone I know. So I turned.

No, it was just some a-hole yelling "Hey Baby" and the like.

A minute later, more long beeps. I look again- and it was just some other a-hole yelling "Hey Baby" and the like.

Immediately after, more long beeps, but I'm not falling for it this time. I just keep my eyes on the sidewalk ahead.

I got home and ate dinner and wrote a bit and was getting ready to watch City of Lost Children (which is a really bizarre movie, by the way) with Daena when Fabian came in and said,

"I went down south after school today to go to the teacher store-"

"the What?" I ask.

He waves me off. "They place to get teacher supplies. Anyway, I was driving down 47th and I saw you walking so I honked, but you just kept on walking. I was going to give you a ride, but you ignored me, so I just drove on."

This morning, when I got on the bus, this guy in the back who looked vaguely familiar waved at me, and then did that finger motion that means 'come here'. He looked vaguely familiar and was acting in a familiar way, so I thought maybe I knew him and I went to sit in the back of the bus nearby.

He said, "Hey, how ya doing?" in that way that is clearly a come-on.

I rolled my eyes and laughed, having fallen for it once again. Go ahead, honk at me. I'll look.

I said, "Oh, I thought I knew you from the church." He gave me a puzzled look and I explained further, "I'm married."

He laughed too and said, "Oh, sorry," or something like that, that clearly indicated the coming-on was over. I turned to look forward. Then he says, "Are you happy, though?"

I laughed and said, "yes, I am."

He said, "Good. That's what's important." Then after a few minutes he says, "You should be flattered, though."

And you know, he was a good-looking guy, and I was, so I said, "I am," and laughed again.

Then he said, "Where were you before I was married?"

And I thought, 'HE's married?' So I asked him, and he said, "No, I was just saying, where were you before i was married." Which is a funny explanation when you think about it, but changing the inflection really did make it make more sense.

When I got up to leave, he said, "Take care. Love you."

I said, "Bye."

A Day of Kati's Most Interesting Life

Way of the Cross was this morning. I woke up at the crack of 7:30, which is ridiculously early in my work schedule (okay, maybe not- I usually wake up at 8 or 8:30 with Michael anyway- but my work day usually doesn’t begin until 11:00). But I hadn’t woken up early enough, or maybe I should have paid more attention to the time as I was lounging about getting ready for work. At any rate, I wound up high-tailing it out of the house ten minutes later than I had wanted to.

I arrived at 8:50, ten minutes before Way of the Cross (Via Crucis) began. I ran into the office to grab some things, and then headed to our station. My RCIA group had the eleventh station- Jesus nailed to the cross- in the garden. The other stations were positioned all over the neighborhood, and several hundred people processed through the streets with a large cross. Someone played a trumpet; someone beat a drum.

Saul showed up first. Then Erica and Leticia. I asked Erica where her brother Gustavo was, and she said she wasn’t sure if he was coming. I said, Yes he is. Let’s go get him.

She looked at me apprehensively, but walked me to her house three or four blocks away (eight city blocks is a mile- just for reference). We slipped in, woke Gustavo, and then headed back. It was already after 9:30, and we were afraid that Saul and Leticia would be alone when the procession came.

But we got there, and waited. Gustavo came, and we waited.

At about 10:15, I was keeping a lookout when Marco drove by and told me that they were at the fifth station. He estimated it would be another forty-five minutes. My group slumped their shoulders. I said, Okay, Gustavo, take me to Carlos’ house. He said, Carlos? I said, Yeah, we got time, and we wouldn’t want him to miss out, would we?

So Gustavo and I walked to Carlos’ house, and spoke with his mother. We listened as she relayed messages from us back to Carlos, who we could hear yelling about how he was taking a shower. So we left instructions of where he should go, and headed back to the garden.

We all talked lightly about a number of things, including a certain question with which I’ve been entertaining people all day. Then- we saw the procession rounding the corner. Two more stations until us, and my group got all nervous. They started making jokes about what they were going to be doing (Gustavo, who was playing Jesus, said he was going to grab the hammer and chase people out of the garden. Then he got nervous, and said he was going to run and get Carlos to play Jesus. Then Erica and Leticia said they were going to leave. It was kind of funny, actually.)

And then they were coming.

Gustavo stood on a bench, arms extended, head down. Erica and Leticia assumed prayerful postures at his side. Saul knelt down before him. I squatted behind them, banging a hammer against two pieces of wood for the sound of nailing Jesus to the cross. And then we had it- a living painting.

Fr. Bruce brought the crowds through, and we all prayed. Within three minutes, the crowd headed to the next station, and we followed, our work in the garden being done.

As we walked on, Carlos finally met up with us. And we also saw Nina- the last member of the group that no one had been able to get a hold of. She had forgotten we were doing a station, and had walked the whole way with the procession.

I talked with a few of the Marimbistas, one of whom had questions about a paper he is writing about Hamlet. He wants to write about existentialism, and I felt a surge of pride. We had earlier spent a week working on an existentialism paper. I had told him I would make an existentialist out of him yet. I think I succeeded.

Anyway, um, is any of this interesting? Is it worth reading?

Because here’s the deal, as I write it, it sounds all nifty, and *stuff is happening*, and it’s cool and all… but… we sat around in the garden for two hours. And we talked, but we all agreed that it was still boring. Those three minutes of performing the station- that was neat. And walking the last few stations- that was neat too. But it was preceded by literal *hours* of boredom.

Here’s why I mention this:

I met this girl online a couple of weeks ago, Robyn. She’s a writer like me, and has been helping me with one of my stories. I asked for help on the site when I posted the last chapter and she responded. So I went and checked out her stories before I wrote her back and accepted. She said she had also gone to check me out and had come to this blog.

She said my life sounded interesting. But I thought, Heh, it’s just life. Then she told me she was still in school, was wanting to become a Forensic Pathologist, her Chemistry teacher, Karen, was trying to set her up with this job at a morgue, and you know, things like that, which I have to admit sound very interesting to me.

Then, she mentions to me that she has been home for the past month with “Glandular Fever.” The name sounds scary enough, but then to think about having been home for a month with it… I asked her about it. I’d never heard of it.

Well, it’s this virus that causes fatigue and nausea and depression, and two golfball-like protrusions to stick out of your neck. The symptoms typically last a month or two, and then the virus stays in your system for two years, during which time you can relapse, but then afterwards, you’re immune. Bugger for me, she said, I’ve gone and relapsed already.

She was talking about it like she was telling me about an ingrown toenail. She said that it was a really boring disease, actually. I couldn’t imagine how she could be so calm about it all.

But THEN, she continues on by mentioning this blog, and saying that her life is boring, but that it sounds like I’m always doing something new and interesting. “It must be exhilarating,” she said.

And I thought (my jaw still slack from having read about her ailment), What are you talking about? My life is so boring. It’s just life.

So that’s when I had this minor epiphany. People think *their* lives are boring, because people live *their lives*. Every day, I brush my teeth, and go to the bathroom, and wait for the bus, and I can categorically say that none of those experiences have EVER been what I would classify as “exhilarating”.

So I asked Michael about it, and he agreed that he, too, leads a really boring life. Now, maybe I’m biased, but I think Michael leads a pretty interesting life (And I even see him balancing checkbooks and playing computer games). But, at 8th Day, he organizes demonstrations, and protests School of the Americas, and does all sorts of research, and is always learning new things. He lobbies Congress and the UN, for crying out loud! Boring? No, not boring.

And based on my observations of three people for a couple of hours yesterday, I came up with this theory about how all people all over the world think their own lives are boring.

(I might mention now that I had a similar epiphany when I was still in college. I was talking to Dustin about all these interesting things I used to do. “Used to do”- like there was this six month period where I did everything interesting I’ve ever done, when actually, it was spread out over years, and interspersed with boyfriend troubles and homework and flossing.)

Anyway, I wrote Robyn back with this minor epiphany, telling her that, yeah, my life probably is actually really interesting. It’s even the life I want to live. It’s just that I do all these other really boring things (like, I took a four-hour nap today… and I think I finally licked that funk that had me ill this week—boring, boring). Balanced with the interesting stuff, to me, it just seems like life, plain and simple. And, I said, Your life is not boring. I think it’s rather interesting, actually.

Robyn wrote back that she could definitely see how people would get so used to the routine of their lives that they would start taking it all for granted and not realize how interesting other people would think they were. But, she said, she still couldn’t imagine her life being interesting to anyone else. Until… she began to wonder… How many people have ever had a koala ride around on their back? And how many people have ever had their clothing that was hanging out to dry get attacked by kangaroos?

I’ve been entertaining people with that question all day.

In a nutshell

Man, crazy times.

I keep meaning to update, but then so much happens, and I fall behind, and then it's too much to say.

And then more happens...

Now I'm fighting off some bug. For a few days now I've been pretending i"m not getting sick, because this is a really bad time to get sick.

It's Holy Week. My RCIA group are going through the sacraments on Saturday. So much stuff is happening at the church, and then next Tuesday, Michael and I are hopping on a bus to Tennessee for a week. I don't want to be sick when I go home. And I don't want to be sick during such a busy week. But my head is swimming. I feel restless, like I can't stop moving, but I also just feel like laying down. My throat hurts, my body aches. And I just feel... wrong. But I guess not all-out sick, which means I'm fighting it still, and hopefully I'll win. And soon. Cause this sucks.

So here's what's happened...

Molly and Eric and Ian came to visit, and we had a fantastic time. Went to museums, and road on the L (Ian loves trains), and they treated us to some fine food, and I showed them around where I work, and Ian played around with one of the marimbas, and it was just fun. it was almost 70 F the day they got in. It snowed the next day. So they got a taste of Chicago weather as well. It was a great trip. I'm so glad they made it up.

J and N... hmmm... they have court dates next month for their little stolen automobile infraction. I really don't know how that's going to go. they both have records, but J's is worse than N's, so he may actually be looking at a bit of time.

Their behavior at CCP was really bad the next few days. Then they started cutting again. Then J stopped coming all together. We're not sure if he's still in town or if he's moved to Indiana. his parents had been talking about it for years. They may have actually gone ahead and done it. We just don't know. They don't have a phone, and we haven't seen him or his sister around. No one was home when Marco and Alberto went to do a home visit... So...

We're meeting with N's mother and N today in about half an hour. It's like pulling teeth to get N to do any work. He comes in late, works for about 1/2 an hour, then complains for the rest of the time, refusing to do anything. Yelling a lot. Stalking out of the room. Some days it's better than others, but he's missed too many days now, been late too many times, so he's going to be out of the program. In the meeting, we have to have a realistic talk about how he might not make it at Dugan, because the behavior he's shown in CCP just won't fly there.

I hate this.

I like J and N a lot. Everyone keeps telling me there was nothing more we could have done. There was nothing more I could have done. And I know it's not my fault they cut, not my fault they'd come in late, or start fighting. But I can't help but feeling like I failed them. it's frustrating.

Art class has been going off and on. We *still* have not gotten in the sculpting equipment. What we've been doing the past week is remaking works of various artists, mostly paintings, with charcoal and colored pencils. It's actually pretty neat looking, to see something transformed like that. i don't have as many people coming right now, but the people that do come tend to be boys that don't have anyone that looks out for them at home. I think they like it when I ask them how their day was, and yell it them when they cut class, and encourage them to put their stuff in art fairs.

It's kind of funny now that I think about it... when I was their age, guys like them were also attracted to me. i used to joke with my friends that the guys I dated didn't want a girlfriend, they wanted a mother. I guess it's still kind of the same thing, except that now that I"m older than them, it makes it easier for them to put me in the "mother" category. I'm their teacher, so I have authority by right of title, so they tell me when things aren't going to great, almost pleading with me to set them straight. They want someone to tell them you can do it, don't do that, what were you thinking, good job. So I do, and they come asking for me.

That's kind of a good feeling.

Things have changed at home. Phil and Valerie are gone now. it's weird, them being gone, but I find that I don't miss the drama of the last few months. They sent us a card, and seem to be enjoying themselves on the road. So I wish them well.

I gave a talk to the Confirmation class at St. Paul church (near where I live). Daena organized the Confirmation Retreat, and asked me to talk about mission. So I did. And I sang them a song. It was a lot of fun, and a great boost to the ego to have like forty teens tell me how much I rock. The next day at the youth group meeting, they were talking about ways to raise money, and they decided they wanted me to play a show for them.

We'll see.

that's all for now.

peace out,
kati

UPDATE: We just had the meeting with N and his mother. He's going to be on hiatus from the program for the next two weeks (Holy Week, and while I'm out of town), and his mother is going to take him to get a psychological evaluation to see if perhaps his problems with doing his work, sitting still, not yelling, etc. have to do with a chemical imbalance or something. Pretty much, to figure out what else he needs, because CCP Lab just isn't enough. We also made clear that at the rate he's going, he may not finish the credits in CCP Lab, and definitely, if he carries this behaviour over to Dugan, will not make it there. Something has to change, and hopefully this will be the beginning of it.

I like this better.