clueless
So, I must say I am completely clueless when it comes to dating. I have never lived in a big city and usually people just meet, hang out where they met, and then end up hanging out at home.
I don't have enough guts to be all cosmo girl about and wink at the hottie in walmart or get his number.
The situation is seriously screwed. I like music and I like guys who are into music, but I only meet guys who are into music at the concerts that I travel two or more hours to get to. And well, i can't afford that commute to date someone.
Right now, i am busy trying to get my mom's CD burner to work. Not sure if I can, but it is worth a a try. it is buzzing like a crazy furball down there.
anyhoo, I have told some of you that my school district is restructuring. I went down to the elementary school that I will be teaching at and well, it was not pleasant. The trip to work will now be 25 minutes. The place is in the middle of BFE and I can foretell that my heart will be broken a million times. I drove by literal shacks that people lived in. The porches were cracked and caving in and babies were running around in diapers on them. For a town with no money, they had at least two bars. When you think of ghetto and poverty, you are thinking of this place. My next year will be faced with kids who can't afford to buy materials. Kids who can't afford to wash their clothes every day. Kids who may go home to a house without electricity or water. Parental contact? The numbers change from month to month.
On the plus side, poverty creates imagination. I was poor when I was a kid. I remember living in one house with five kids in one room sharing a bunkbed. I remember my older sister taking care of me. I remember wearing my brother's underwear because mine weren't clean. I remember being sick a lot. None of those things make me angry. I didn't blame my kid for having no college education and trying to do the best he could with what he had. I mean, I didn't know I was poor when I was kid. The other day I was in McDonald's and these three kids came in. Oh, they were cute, blonde hair girls and a little tow headed boy. The girls were in big black boots in the middle of the hot summer. The oldest girl had dirt all over her behind. The middle child's pants were at least two sizes two big and they were held up with some rigging of a rubber band. The boy didn't have on any shoes and his pants kept falling down. Grandpa was taking care of them and he seemed disoriented and confused. I mean, he had money. It wasn't as if the old guy was taking care of them. Just watching, I could tell he didn't see these kids often. The oldest sister was nagging at the other two and had great manners. And I thought, you know, I bet those kids don't know they are poor. And i bet they don't know they should feel sorry for themselves.
ok, this is getting long and i don't know how to do one of those cut things. i'll go bother myspace now.
I don't have enough guts to be all cosmo girl about and wink at the hottie in walmart or get his number.
The situation is seriously screwed. I like music and I like guys who are into music, but I only meet guys who are into music at the concerts that I travel two or more hours to get to. And well, i can't afford that commute to date someone.
Right now, i am busy trying to get my mom's CD burner to work. Not sure if I can, but it is worth a a try. it is buzzing like a crazy furball down there.
anyhoo, I have told some of you that my school district is restructuring. I went down to the elementary school that I will be teaching at and well, it was not pleasant. The trip to work will now be 25 minutes. The place is in the middle of BFE and I can foretell that my heart will be broken a million times. I drove by literal shacks that people lived in. The porches were cracked and caving in and babies were running around in diapers on them. For a town with no money, they had at least two bars. When you think of ghetto and poverty, you are thinking of this place. My next year will be faced with kids who can't afford to buy materials. Kids who can't afford to wash their clothes every day. Kids who may go home to a house without electricity or water. Parental contact? The numbers change from month to month.
On the plus side, poverty creates imagination. I was poor when I was a kid. I remember living in one house with five kids in one room sharing a bunkbed. I remember my older sister taking care of me. I remember wearing my brother's underwear because mine weren't clean. I remember being sick a lot. None of those things make me angry. I didn't blame my kid for having no college education and trying to do the best he could with what he had. I mean, I didn't know I was poor when I was kid. The other day I was in McDonald's and these three kids came in. Oh, they were cute, blonde hair girls and a little tow headed boy. The girls were in big black boots in the middle of the hot summer. The oldest girl had dirt all over her behind. The middle child's pants were at least two sizes two big and they were held up with some rigging of a rubber band. The boy didn't have on any shoes and his pants kept falling down. Grandpa was taking care of them and he seemed disoriented and confused. I mean, he had money. It wasn't as if the old guy was taking care of them. Just watching, I could tell he didn't see these kids often. The oldest sister was nagging at the other two and had great manners. And I thought, you know, I bet those kids don't know they are poor. And i bet they don't know they should feel sorry for themselves.
ok, this is getting long and i don't know how to do one of those cut things. i'll go bother myspace now.