Twenty Thirteen

What 2013 meant for me:

I have spent the last week thinking about the past year. I have discussed this with some people and I think I  got caught up. I was quick to think that this year wasn't so great, but really I can't say that.

The year started off with my recognition for my teaching, which I still am working at perfecting. However, I am learning that there is no such thing as a perfect teacher, or perfect student...there are only those who strive for perfection. These are the people who want the best for themselves and for others and will do just about anything to achieve it. These are the people who aren't afraid to to be flawed. They fail. They make mistakes. They reevaluate. They regroup. 

Twenty Thirteen saw the ten year anniversary of my grandmother's passing and the realization that I hang on to this even with too hard of a grip. 

Twenty Thirteen saw my feet get wet in the ocean for the second time in my life. It's greatness amazes me. 

Twenty Thirteen saw my heart try to let someone in that just wasn't right for me. She wanted me to give more than I had to give. 

Twenty Thirteen saw my brain (and heart) decide to make changes in the way I educate. With the the support and similar vision of some truly great people I embarked on this journey. We called it a pilot program, but I think it has really taken flight...and can't wait to see how it continues to soar. 

Twenty Thirteen leaves me with hope. A simple word: Hope. One syllable. Four letters. Powerful in it's simplicity. I hope for the best. I hope for the best for you all and for myself. I hope for more exciting changes and more of the same. I hope for fireworks all of the time and not just on special occasions. 2013 was full of bursts of fire and I can only hope that 2014 brings even more. 

A Life: Three Years At A Time

Three years. For whatever reason, I have looked at my life in increments of three years. I’ve made plans to reevaluate every three years. When I decided to move to Baltimore, I said that I would reevaluate where I was  in three years and make another plan. Only something happened along the way, I stopped reevaluating things. It’s been four years. Some could argue that the first year was rough, and can be ignored in some aspects. Without that first year, these past three wouldn’t have happened.

I pride myself on my ability to see the end results of something before I start it. Or at least how I envision it to end. SIDEBAR: It’s unfair to assign an end to anything, but an end, to me, is the opportunity to set a goal and work towards finishing it.

So here I am…looking at the next three years. I have goals. These are goals tied to previous accomplishments and can be modified based on their progression.

1. Continue learning how to be a better teacher, and not let the negativity of some people defeat my ambition to do so.
2. Go back to school…I know this is a crazy goal…but school leadership is in my future in some way or another.
3. Give back. The combination of my trip to Haiti and a friend’s current trip to Belize have inspired me to get out there again. Early stages of research have begun.
4. Buy a house. Three years ago I would've said I would never buy a house. I saw it as a sign of settling down. Now, I see it as an opportunity and think a little settling down can be a good thing.
5. Finish my book. This project has been in the works for too long. I am constantly finding inspiration for it in the people I meet, but am failing to put these inspirations into words.
6. Think outside the box and color outside the lines.

Haven't We Met - Nick

Nick was still fascinated by the lost cell phone and the woman who found it. “Should have hit that,” he boasted to another bartender, who wasn’t listening. “She was flirting so hard on me. Girl wanted this. Probably stole my phone, just to pretend she found it for me.”

Nick was sure of one thing in this world. Women wanted him. All women wanted him. Truth be told, he hadn’t gotten laid in over a year, but he wouldn’t let anyone know that. Instead, he spoke of endless conquests. When in actuality he had an endless supply of lotion and Kleenex and stories of women running away after talking to him for thirty seconds. It wasn’t that he was unattractive. Quite the opposite actually. Nick was attractive. When you looked past the disheveled way he wore his clothing and hair, you could see a beautiful face and decent body. His brother, the model, constantly told him he could be modeling if he put a little more effort into things and didn’t waste what little money he had on drugs.

Nick cashed out for the night. He never looked at his tips in terms of money but in terms of how many pills he could buy. Tonight’s take: 50 little orange pills. A text to his dealer and a pick-up was arranged. He grabbed his jacket, smacked some waitress on the ass, and headed out the door.

Twenty minutes later he was standing in the lobby of an apartment building waiting to be buzzed up by Ian. Every time Ian buzzed the door open, Nick missed his opportunity to open it and had to buzz again. Annoyed by this, Ian ran down to let Nick in. “Damn, do you even shower before you go to work, “ Ian said as he led Nick upstairs. Nick ignored the insult. Best not to retaliate with the holder of the orange pills. Nick sat on the couch and watched some TV show about people surviving in the woods with little supplies. He thought to himself that he could do that and wondered how he could get on this show. “Yo, Ian how you get on this survivor show?” he asked as if Ian knew that answer. The response he got was a laugh and something about Nick being too much to deal with sometimes. Ian came back from the bedroom with a small bag of orange pills and told Nick to move over.

“You can’t take up the whole couch.”

The two shared a joint and watched as the TV contestants ate bugs. “Fuck,” Nick yelled out and put his hand over his mouth as he pretended to puke. “That shit is nasty. I take it back. I couldn’t be on this show. They tell me to eat a bug and I tell them to kiss my ass. Not for anything would I eat a bug. Nasty. Nasty. Nasty.” Nick went on and on about how nasty it was to see people eat bugs and how no one should be eating bugs.

“I ate a bug once,” Ian said to a stunned Nick. Ian went on to tell a story about eating some bug when he was in junior high. Not an accident but as a dare. A dare proposed by a girl. What kind of bug? How did it taste? Did you throw it up? “I don’t know what it was. It didn’t taste bad. Crunchy. No, I didn’t throw up,” Ian responded just as quickly as the questions came.

The two sample one of the orange pills each and before they knew it they were talking at light speed and considering a trip to the club.

A trip to the club would be great They walk to the club and order drinks I’ll have what he’s having That’s weird It tastes fruity It is fruity a burly bartender snaps back They came to the wrong club Men dancing with men Men kissing men Shit Fuck Damn We’re already here Let’s stay They move to the dance floor They dance or they think they’re dancing They are flailing their arms around They hit nearby dancers They dance with each other If we look like we’re together they won’t hit on us Ian disappears Nick continues gyrating around on the dance floor A man offers to buy him a drink He thinks this is a bad idea Don’t want to give him the wrong idea Free drinks though Another fruity drink the burly bartender asks Yeah, another fruity drink On his tab as he point to the older guy that is rubbing his arm Let the guy get a little feel Can’t hurt anything Nick thanks the buyer of the drink and runs off Looks back to see the guy giving him the finger and saying something to the bartender They look at Nick and shake their heads He takes that as his cue to find Ian and get out of there He downs the fruity drink and thinks to himself that he would like another but can’t risk going back to the bartender now He doesn’t find Ian He finds another orange pill in his pocket and inserts it in his mouth Time to go Time to go Runs out the door Looks both ways Runs Runs Runs Outside another club Looks fun he thinks Bouncer knows him He doesn’t know bouncer He goes in anyway Don’t worry about the cover Bouncer takes care of his people Not his people Not his anything Enter the club Run to the bar Bartender knows him too He doesn’t know bartender but takes him up on the free drink Nothing fruity Nothing too hard Tastes good Leaves a dollar or two on the bar and runs off Dance Dance Dance Some girl is looking at him She wants him No she is disgusted with his dancing No you can’t have my number She runs away She really runs away He will tell his friends he fucked her in the bathroom Time passes Another orange pill Too many in one night Too many for sure He loses time Wakes up on a couch in another room Still hears the music thumping It’s muffled Girl he knows is sitting next to him She is spaced out Opposite of orange pills She looks at him She looks through him She touches his lips Nice lips Touches his chin Nice chin Nick laughs Says something about kissing the nice lips Girl kisses him He kisses back People are in the room watching him He can’t pass this up Keeps kissing Starts groping Girl pushes away Too many people around to keep going He gets up He walks away He gets lost in a hallway He’s outside Fuck It got cold He starts running again Runs Runs Runs Diner is open Orders a burger and fries Gravy please Gravy on a burger the waitress asks Yes Gravy On A Burger Sips water Sucks up lemon seed Gags a little Waiting for food takes forever Coming down Coming down Coming down

Nick takes a bite out of his burger. “Fuck,“ he says and calls the waitress over. “Who put gravy on this burger,” he asks rudely. An old man on the next stool answers for her. “You did, idiot. She asked you if you were sure you wanted gravy on it and you said you did.” At that point Nick looks down on his plate and takes another bite of the burger. It’s disgusting but he wouldn’t dare say anything else. He looks back at the old man who is looking at him too. The old man shakes his head and goes back to his crossword. Nick forces down the rest of his burger and feels himself getting tired. He knows he needs to get home before he completely passes out. Can’t have a repeat of the other night when he passed out in the park and woke next to a pile of dog shit. He wants his check but doesn’t want to ask the waitress for it. She brings the old man his check. He hands her a twenty and tells her to keep it. “Thanks, Charlie,” she says as she leans across the counter to kiss his cheek. Nick also throws a twenty on the counter and almost asks where his kiss is. Surprisingly, he knows better. He leaves. He wants to run home but his body is moving in slow motion. It takes a long time but he finds himself in front of his building searching for his keys. They aren’t there. His roommate isn’t answering the phone. Nick sits on the stoop. Soon enough he is sleeping on the cold stairs.