cherry pie.


i'm trying not to be whiney. i don't know what my original intention was in creating this blog. maybe it was to prove to myself that i could actually stick with something. maybe it was to prove to myself that i could be a writer, and that my creative writing degree was worth something after all. i know that i wanted to remember the students i worked with, how terribly sweet some were, and how others were awful, and how all of them were tragic. i finished dan brown's (not of da vinci code fame) book about his first year of teaching a fourth grade class in the bronx. it's called the great expectations school, and i highly recommend it. he captures perfectly those great moments of insight, the kind of stress that drains blood from your face, the way administrators talk down to young teachers (making the latter feel like students themselves), and the overall hopelessness of the education system. the book is more or less what this blog would have been about, had i been more willing to put up with so much bullshit.

i hate being uncertain about things. the feeling is like drinking a tablespoon of robitussin. doubt tastes like bad cough medicine. sometimes i'm perfectly okay with it, and other days, right before going to bed, i think, my life is ending one day at a time, and i'm squandering every day i'm given. i know that i could just up and go, possibly even pull off an into the wild (except i wouldn't go to fucking alaska), but my biggest fear is that i'll just end up where i started again. it doesn't feel right, being home and doing nothing. it's completely surreal to feel like i've transported back to the late nineties, back to my early teen years, completely hopeless, wanting out, but stumbling in the dark, searching for an exit. the scariest thing is that it could happen again at any point down the line. the marriage fails, the company downsizes, the health insurance runs out. it's nothing new.

now, just some random anecdotes: my mom told me that sometimes when she's driving, she'll remember a scene from the novel, a confederacy of dunces, and she'll start cracking up. one time, sam told my mom that his dad made hard-boiled eggs to go with chicken adobo. "one for every member of the family," he said. my cousin aileen once had a boyfriend in college who died of leukemia. my uncle's sister, cheryl, makes really good cherry pies. once, she made me one for my birthday when she found out how much i liked them. i fit all my paperback books into two drawers in my desk.

i'm bored with the things i'm writing about.

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